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hotchs-bitch · 2 years

Text

Hold On

Summary: When a case hits a little too close to home, it’s time for Aaron to face the music and be honest about his feelings after the breakup

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Hotch x Beth mentioned, Emily Prentiss x mentioned oc (aka @leftoverenvy)

Word count: ~12k (the girl cannot shut up) (it’s closer to 13 but it’s worth it I swear to god it is)

Warnings: hotch pov, case-compliant violence/injuries, mentions of suicide, mentions of pregnancy & pregnancy scares, domestic actions without fluff, relationship talk/references to relationship, angst angst angst, deep delving into their feelings, this is basically a case study, I once again leaned way too heavily on song lyrics so pls listen to it

A/N: As Taylor Swift said…. Dear reader, if it feels like a trap, you’re already in one. Mwahaha. Anyways I hope you enjoy this. Massive shoutout to @munsons-curls and @doctorstethoscope for fixing my many mistakes and validating me, and to everyone who has let me take them on this little ride. I can’t express how much I’ve enjoyed writing this fic, or how excited I am to write the epilogue

Find it on ao3 here and as always, happy reading <3

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—————

There's so many dreams that we have given up

Take a look at all we've got

And with this kind of love what we've got here is enough

So hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it'll be alright

'Cause we are stronger here together than we could ever be alone

Just hold on to me, don't you ever let me go

Once upon a time, Aaron had considered himself lucky. He had a steady job, as dangerous as it was fulfilling, with the BAU. He had a son, energetic and joyous despite all he’d been through. He had you, beautiful and strong and endlessly supportive of him. He had a version of the life he had always wanted, the normalcy of family game night and someone else making Jack eat his veggies. It had been perfect.

But then, he’d screwed up. Hadn’t he? He had opened up, just a bit too much, and told you something you didn’t want to hear. Scared you off.

Instead of spending the rest of his life with you, as he’d planned, Aaron found himself alone. He tried not to blame you, tried not to feel bitter about the inevitable result of finally opening up to someone so wholly.

He bit back every thought of how conditional your love turned out to be, every scathing remark about how Biometrics was one of the most useless departments in the Bureau. He pretended not to care when he overheard that you were dating again, courtesy of JJ and Prentiss’ water cooler gossip.

He’d done what Aaron Hotchner always did; he’d buckled up, lifted his chin, and done what was expected of him. He’d found a nice girl, one that fell for him quickly, and he wished he could return the depths of her affection. He’d continued to work, putting away bad guys with Morgan and Reid while missing the easy way you’d always been able to read his mind in the field.

He moved apartments as soon as it became apparent that the ghost of you would never leave; he just wished that it hadn’t followed him, haunting him with thoughts of you dancing around the new stainless steel kitchen, or flopping onto the brand new suede couch.

He’d done what you asked him to, two years ago when you’d walked away from him and left him to pick up the pieces of his son’s broken heart and ignore his own.

Everyone has a breaking point, though. Aaron, to his credit, hadn’t reached it many times in his life.

There was the first time his father hit his little brother; the first time Aaron fought back. Open-handed slaps, broken noses, Sean screaming. He had never regretted it, not even when he wound up in the hospital that night.

There was George Foyet, dead on the blood-soaked carpet after a blur of a fight. Bloody knuckles, blurry vision, Haley’s blood flecked on her killer’s face. He’d do it a hundred times over if he had the chance.

There was the breakup, the one that simultaneously snuck up on him and had been inevitable. Crumpled flowers, Aaron yelling, you packing your desk. If he hadn’t snapped, would you have stayed?

And then there were the breaking points Aaron never expected to reach.

Leaving for a case the day you broke up with him, only to return to a half-empty apartment. Empty closet, the ‘hers’ sink from the his-and-hers themed bathroom scrubbed clean, your favourite mug left in the dishwasher. He had shattered the mug, thrown it off the balcony where you liked to drink your coffee in the mornings.

The first time you’d come along on a team outing after the breakup. Laughter, avoiding glances, ignoring how good you looked. He had taken home the first woman who caught his eye that night, learned her name- Beth- and given her a place in his life, like that would solve anything.

No matter how many breaking points he experienced, Aaron could never be sure about when the next one would occur. His saving grace through it all was that at least he could keep his composure at work.

Where Aaron failed, Hotch wasn’t allowed to.

Maybe that’s why it’s such a shock when the team gets news of a bombing in New York, just days after Emily’s wedding, and Hotch nearly keels over at his desk.

You’re in New York.

— — —

The drive to the airstrip is a blur; the whole team is worried, of course, but Aaron can hardly see straight until he’s on the plane with a file in his hand and Emily is squeezing his arm.

He remembers giving a quick and quiet order to Garcia, to call you and find out if you’re okay, and it doesn’t help his nerves that all she could tell him was, “Her phone is off.”

“She’s okay, you know,” Emily murmurs, discreet enough that no one else can hear. “It’s a big city. She’s just fine. We’ll catch this guy, and then you can see her. We just need to work the case first.”

Aaron- Hotch, now- takes a deep breath and does his best to hide that those words are exactly what he needs to hear right now, even if he doesn’t plan on seeing you. She’s right; they just need to work the case. “Alright. Okay,” he says a little louder, “What do we know?”

“Not much,” Morgan frowns at the file in his hand. “A bomb went off at The Vessel. It was a structure, I guess, but no one was allowed inside and that’s where the bomb was. Makes sense with the casualty numbers- Seven wounded, two dead.”

“Probably nearby tourists, taking pictures with it,” Prentiss says thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s sending a message to outsiders, but didn’t want a high body count.”

“That could be it,” Rossi agrees. “‘Stay out of my city’.”

“There’s been no communication to any news outlets so far,” JJ chimes in. “I don’t think we’ll learn much more until we get there and have a chance to check out the scene.”

Reid adjusts a few papers so they align, most of his attention focused on the task. “You know, most seemingly random bombings have a high chance of being followed up with a string of serial bombings, for a number of reasons. Sometimes the unsub gets addicted to the attention, or the feeling of killing, or the initial bomb doesn’t impact the intended target,” he continues, not noticing the look Rossi is shooting him.

Hotch takes a deep breath and tries to push back the feeling in his chest that resembles a brick being crushed into his sternum. “Alright. JJ is right. There’s not much more we can do with no signature and no other bombings. Everyone, just try to relax; I have a feeling we won’t be getting much rest in New York.”

He watches as the team follows his instruction. The tension is palpable but they know there’s nothing they can do; the waiting is everyone’s least favourite part of the job. Still, they try to relax. Morgan pulls on his headphones and closes his eyes, JJ and Reid start to play cards, and Prentiss and Rossi re-open their file folders to review case details.

As much as he’d like to do the same, Aaron can’t bring himself to move. He sits there, head against the window, and he wonders if you’re okay. Were you caught in the blast? Did you become one of Reid’s bombing statistic numbers? Or are you perfectly fine, content somewhere in the city with no idea that Aaron is on his way there?

He wonders, briefly, against his will in a moment dripping with guilt, which potential is worse.

———

Aaron Hotchner is something of a practiced master at hiding his agony. Maybe that’s why his voice is so level when the plane starts to descend, and he finally speaks to do the one thing he knows how; direct his team.

“Morgan and Rossi, go to the bombing site. See what you can find. Prentiss, head to the hospital with Reid and start talking to victims, and JJ, see if any news outlets have been contacted yet. We’ll meet at the station later.”

As though on cue, Garcia’s computer screen against the wall of the jet lights up. The tech analyst looks a bit paler than usual, and Hotch crosses his fingers and chalks it up to bad lighting until she speaks.

“Sir, there was another bombing. Three minutes ago, in a grocery store near the Village. There’s no casualty numbers yet.” She looks like she might cry now, and it’s not hard to figure out why.

“A grocery store is a serious escalation,” Rossi says, opening the file folder he’d just closed. “There’s locals, long-stay tourists, families shopping. Big jump from a tourist trap.”

“So we know he’s not possessive of the city. At least, he isn’t just trying to get rid of perceived outsiders,” JJ offers, and Morgan shakes his head.

“If this guy is looking for the homey-cozy ‘love thy neighbour’ deal, he’s not about to get it in New York no matter what he bombs,” he points out.

When the plane jostles them all a little, Hotch takes the moment of silence to re-assess assignments. “Garcia, is search and rescue at the second bombing site?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. The team is split between doing recovery at both locations,” she says, and one nod from Rossi means Hotch doesn’t hesitate to reassign.

“Morgan, you’re with me at the new site. We’ll be assisting with search and rescue before anything else. Rossi can handle the first scene by himself. Everyone else, stay as assigned.”

“Hotch, are you sure about that? I might be able to…” On what was probably going to be an offer of how he can assist at the original scene, Morgan falters. Of course he does. There’s nothing to be done when the bomb’s already gone off.

“I’m sure. There are people out there, and they deserve to be saved.”

———

When the plane hits the tarmac, his team is ready. It’s like watching a well-oiled machine, the way they pair off and head off to their assigned zones. The only pause is between Aaron and Rossi, when he grabs his friend’s arm on the way off the plane. “Dave…”

“I’ll tell you if she’s there,” Rossi promises, and then he’s gone in a black SUV while Hotch climbs into one with Morgan and heads to the Village bombsite.

“So, search and rescue,” Morgan says, raising his voice to speak over the sirens that Hotch has turned on. “Are we heading in, or assisting from the sidelines?”

“According to Garcia, the ambulances aren’t able to make it out to the grocery store. There’s too much rubble blocking the roads that aren’t under construction, and it’s New York traffic in addition to the media outlets swarming the place.” Hotch lets out a concentrated breath. “It’s going to be all hands on deck. Look for survivors, get them to an ambulance.”

“Got it.” The second Hotch throws the car into park, Morgan is sliding out of his seat and onto the sidewalk. Both men make their way through the media storm, past the ambulances that managed to park closer than they did, and into the store.

Search and rescue is there already, along with the SWAT team. They’re moving debris, lifting fallen shelves, and occasionally carrying people out to the ambulances waiting for them.

Hotch sets into motion instantly. He breaks off for the frozen food aisle where he doesn’t see anyone searching. “Is anyone over here?” He calls out, but there’s no answer.

The bomb must have come from across the store; there’s less debris here, but the shelves are twisted and collapsed all the same. Shattered glass from the freezer doors covers the ground, and he tries to avoid it as best he can as he walks down what once was an aisle.

He steps around stray items- a warped metal freezer door frame, a pile of frozen pizza boxes, pints of melting ice cream- while keeping his eyes trained for any sign of another person anywhere.

When he finally does see something, it makes his adrenaline spike. It’s a leg, poking out from under a freezer shelf. If he has to venture a guess, he’d say that someone is pinned under the bent freezer frame, but whether they’re merely unconscious or dead remains to be determined.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Hotch raises his voice a little and gets closer to the figure. He can see the leg a bit more clearly now, and a hand poking out from under the side of the freezer. The fingers twitch slightly. Thank god.

The sweatpants the person is wearing look vaguely familiar, and Hotch can’t place them until he sees the image of Nemo on them, and it clicks. As soon as he realizes, his stomach drops. His hands go clammy, the blood rushes from his face, and it’s all he can do to stay on his feet.

When the dizziness hits him, he wants to throw something and scream and maybe sink down onto the floor and cry, but he can’t.

He can’t, because he remembers when Penelope made sweatpants out of quilts for everyone on the team four Christmases ago. He can’t, because she’d had more than enough Disney quilt for two pairs, and had given you and him matching pants.

He can’t, because he recognizes those pants because they’re in his closet at home, but the only other person who owns a pair like this, obviously handmade, from a quilt covered in Disney characters, is…

It’s you.

Aaron can’t help himself, couldn’t stop it if he wanted to; he turns his head, bends over, and throws up on the grocery store floor, on layers of glass and rubble and thawed boxes of Pizza Pops. Right there, staring at your leg and hand, Aaron almost breaks.

But where Aaron has chinks in his armour, Hotch has none. Hotch is the one who takes a deep breath and wipes his mouth and straightens up, the one who uses every bit of strength to lift a warped freezer shelf up and reveal you, with a mangled wrist but looking generally otherwise unharmed.

You look terrified.

Not that Hotch can blame you, of course.

“It’s alright. You’ll be okay,” he says, and he doesn’t know if it’s Hotch or Aaron talking, because he sounds calm but he has no idea what happened or how hurt you are. “Were your neck or back hurt? You need to answer me.”

You’re looking up at him, gaze half-lidded, and he doesn’t know if he should be scared or relieved when you shake your head and croak out, “They’re fine.”

He knows it’s risky, knows he should call for Morgan or a member of SWAT or anyone with a gurney to transport you safely. But you’re in front of him, dazed, grimy and half-conscious with your wrist bent at an angle, and all he can do is pick you up and hold you close to him. “Hold on,” he instructs, and he feels your arm wrap around his neck.

“Aaron…” you whisper, and he strains to hear you as he makes his way towards the doors with you in his arms. No words follow, though, and he looks down to see you crying against him, silent with tears slicing through the coat of dust on your face. Your arm starts to slip, and he squeezes you a little.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he promises, “But you need to stay with me. You’ve probably got a concussion, so don’t close your eyes. Hold onto me, tight. I’ve got you.”

When your grasp tightens again, he resumes moving towards the exit. The first breath of fresh air must invigorate you, because he feels you tighten your grip even more. “Aaron,” you repeat, less feeble than before, but he doesn’t want you wasting an ounce of energy.

“I know, but it’s going to be alright,” he shushes you as gently as he can until you arrive at the ambulance, and he passes you off to two paramedics who slide you onto a gurney.

He tries to step back but your hand shoots out and grips his dirtied suit with more strength than he thought you had. “Will you visit? At the hospital?”

The correct answer is no. No, there’s a case to work. No, you’ll be fine. No, we broke up and that’s weird. “We all will,” he promises instead without a hint of regret. “Just let them take care of you, and we’ll be by when we can.”

Relief shines in your eyes, and it’s the last thing he notes before your grip loosens on him and you’re wheeled up into the ambulance.

A minute or so passes before Aaron senses someone behind him and turns to see Derek, who’s watching the road the ambulance disappeared down. “She’s gonna be okay,” he says to Aaron, offering him a nod of support.

Hotch doesn’t know who he’s trying to reassure.

— — —

They reconvene at the station a few hours later, and Aaron sits mostly silent while his team discusses victimology, motives, and the chemical makeup of each bomb. He tries to contribute once or twice, but he falls quiet every time he recalls the way you’d looked up at him.

There had been fear in your eyes, of course. You’d been in a bombing, and he knows how natural fear is after traumatic events. But there had been recognition there too, a solemn kind. He wonders to himself if you wish anyone other than him had found you and brought you to safety, or if he’s worrying about nothing.

You’re safe now, and that’s what’s important. Even if you recover and stay in New York and Aaron never sees you again, at least you’re safe.

Who is he kidding? He can’t go along with never seeing you again, safety be damned. And yet…. He clenches a fist, ignoring Morgan and Reid’s discussion about chemical compounds. And yet, you’d been so close to dead. An aisle or a footstep away, and you could have been ripped away forever.

It makes him sick to think about.

He’s thinking so hard about it that he’s got no idea how long he’s had his gaze fixed on the table before JJ’s sharp “Hotch!” breaks through and gets his attention.

He clears his throat, embarrassed to be caught off guard. “I’m sorry. I was… elsewhere.”

“Did you hear what Emily said?” She asks, and he shakes his head. When he makes eye contact, JJ’s features soften. “You should go see her.”

“No. No, that’s unnecessary. We have a case to work,” he says, and Morgan scoffs at that. “We need to work it like any other case.”

“Any other case? Hotch, you carried her to the ambulance! It’s first aid 101. She could have had a broken spine, and you threw protocol out the window,” Morgan says, staring his boss down. “This isn’t any other case. You guys were in love, man. Go see her.”

Hotch sighs, wishes that the floor could open up and swallow him. Of course he wants to see you, buthe needs to catch the person who did this, first. “It’s not my priority. There are people dying, and we need to stay focused on that. I told her that we would all come visit her after the case is closed.”

“We are focused,” Emily points out. “You aren’t. You’re not helping anyone like this. Just go talk to her, see how she’s doing.” When Aaron opens his mouth to protest again, she cuts him off. “I’m not saying you should live at her bedside or propose to her, but just go say hi. It’s going to help both of you.”

When he looks to his right, Rossi has one eyebrow up. “You know you aren’t winning this one, right?” he asks, and Hotch sighs again. “Bring the girl some flowers, too.”

Aaron closes his file and stands up. “I’m not bringing her flowers,” he mutters. “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. If anything else happens, keep me updated.”

——

When he gets to the hospital, flowers in hand, Aaron finds your room almost immediately. He knocks twice on the door, is greeted with a soft, “Come in.”

“Hi,” he says gently, leaving the door open. He watches, waits while you do a double-take like you can’t trust your own vision when Aaron Hotchner is standing at the door.

“You came,” is your response, and he can’t decide if your voice is coloured by exhaustion or disbelief. Maybe it’s both, but he doesn’t like the idea of not being seen as dependable to you, even now.

Encouraged slightly, Aaron takes a further step into the room. Maybe you do want him here, and you weren’t delirious when you asked him to visit. “You asked me to; of course I came. How do you feel?”

While he waits for an answer, he observes you. You’re in a fresh pair of clothes, and before he can enquire about it you’re speaking.

“I’ve been better.” You hold up one arm in a cast. “But I’ve just got this and a concussion, so it could be worse. Remember that case in Kansas where I broke my leg? That was way worse.”

Aaron shakes his head, wanting to scold you for speaking so lightly of an event that had very genuinely terrified him, but he stops himself. It’s not his place. In lieu of conversation, he raises the vase of flowers slightly.

“I, uh, brought you these.”

In the two long years that you’ve been gone, Aaron has never stopped reading human behaviour. More than anything, he has experience with your body language, and he looks over you with a familiar eye.

He sees the tension in your shoulders, your eyes narrowing slightly in the direction of the arrangement, and he knows that you’re remembering the last time he brought you flowers. “Thank you,” you say after a pause that’s almost too long. “What kind are they?”

“They’re Gladioli,” he says, and the words are fully out of his mouth before he remembers that he should have lied.

When you were dating, he had always brought you flowers. On your birthday, when you solved a case, when you just felt down; Aaron was there with a bouquet, one that always meant something. Celebration, or supportive love, or some other flower language message that he knew you would understand even when he couldn’t say it out loud.

He’s pretty sure that by the time you broke up, you had memorized the whole flower dictionary. But it’s possible, he hopes, that you never came across the Gladiolus flower. Hope. Love. Remembrance.

Why he bought them, he can’t say for sure. Maybe old habits die hard. Maybe he wants to know what you’d do if you recognized the flowers.

When you finally speak, it’s with an indecipherable voice. He’s got no idea whether or not you know what these flowers mean. “They’re beautiful. Can you just put them there?” You point one finger at the windowsill, and he follows your directions to place the vase down.

“Of course.” He sets the flowers down in a beam of sunlight, adjusts them this way and that until he’s satisfied. Once he stops moving, a heavy silence falls over the room.

What is there for you to discuss?

He’s racking his brain looking for something, anything, to talk about, until you speak bluntly.

“What do you know about the bomb?”

“What?” He hadn’t even considered that you might want to talk about the case. You’re a former agent of his unit, so ethically, it’s fine to discuss this with you. Still, he’s concerned about the trauma to your body and mind. Before he can speak again, or protest, you’re already talking.

“The bomb,” you repeat. “Do we know who it was placed by? Is it connected to any other bombs? What was it made with?”

This is familiar. This is okay. This is something Hotch knows how to talk about, even when you’re laid up in a hospital bed and he’s only talked to you a handful of times since you broke up two years ago.

At least it’s not awkward anymore. He can read it in the way you sink back into the bed, and how his own shoulders release a bundle of tension that’s been there since he initially heard that there was a bombing in New York this morning.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” he admits. “It was made with the same chemical compound as the one that blew up The Vessel this morning. It was a homemade compound, nothing that could have been acquired naturally without extensive knowledge of bombs.”

“The Vessel? That’s a tourist attraction.” You sit up, but Hotch shakes his head.

“A closed one,” he corrects. “People just go there to take pictures outside the structure, now. That’s why there’s such a low body count.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not just closed. The Vessel is the attraction that closed after a string of suicides,” you say, and Hotch’s head snaps up in attention. “It was a big thing on the news. Have you looked into anyone related to any of those suicides?”

“No, we haven’t.” He’s already fumbling for his phone. “I’m going back to the station. Just… keep us updated on your condition, okay? We would all like to know how you’re doing.”

“Absolutely not.” Hotch can’t decide if he’s more annoyed, impressed, or concerned when you stand up. “I’m coming with you.”

“You aren’t a part of the BAU anymore,” he reminds you. “You made that choice.”

“Yeah, well, there weren’t any lives at stake. He went after a grocery store, Aaron! What’s next, the Empire State Building? Times Square?” You grab your bag of possessions collected from the bombing and rustle through for your purse. “Did you drive here?”

“You can’t come with me. You’re in the hospital for a reason.”

“For a concussion! People are dead.” You stride towards the door, holding your purse and jacket in the hand that doesn’t have a cast around the wrist. “Can you bring the Gladioli, please?”

Is he caught? Do you want to bring them because you know what they mean, or just because they’re nice flowers? With a sigh, Aaron picks them up and pulls his car keys out, knowing that you’ve won this one. “We aren’t putting your name on any reports,” he warns, taking your jacket and bag of possessions in his other hand. “Strauss would kill us both if she thinks I’m borrowing agents from other units.”

“I don’t need credit. But we need to find this guy, before he hurts anyone else.”

———

When Aaron gets back to the station, he thinks that his agents probably expected him to come back with something like Thai food, or information about a new bombing.

They likely weren’t expecting him to bring you with him. Or maybe they were, because the response of greeting waves and murmured ‘hello’s are less surprised than he had expected.

“How are you feeling?” Prentiss asks casually, but Hotch can see the flicker of panic in her eyes when she glances at your cast.

“I’ve been worse. Listen, Aaron told me about The Vessel…” you start talking to the team as Hotch calls Garcia to loop her in, and suddenly everything feels more normal than it has in two years.

When you’ve finished filling the team in, Hotch starts to speak. “Garcia, we’re going to need history on the deaths that occurred there before it was closed down. Rossi and Prentiss, go through medical reports. Reid, I want you going through any written notes or other evidence found with the bodies.”

While he talks, he notices you slipping out of the room out of the corner of his eye. Morgan grabs his phone and calls Garcia, trying to help her comb through articles for a list of suicides that occurred at The Vessel.

Hotch sits down with Reid, paging through suicide notes and crime scene photos sent by Garcia until he feels like his head is spinning.

That’s right around when you come back, your presence subtly announced with a cup of tea placed in front of Hotch and a gentle squeeze of his shoulder as you pass.

When he brings the cup to his lips, he smiles. It’s English Breakfast tea with a dash of sugar in it; his beverage of choice when it’s too late in the day for coffee. “Thank you,” he says, and you just give him a grin before going to assist Rossi and Prentiss.

After a few minutes of idle work and murmured discussion, Derek shushes everyone and puts his phone on speaker. “Okay, baby girl, tell us something good.”

“None of that, crime fighters. After a truly depressing deep dive through news articles, I’ve got 37 names belonging to people who… you know, died at The Vessel.”

“That’s not workable,” JJ remarks, “We need to narrow it down.”

“We said he has a protective, low body count style. Could be the family member of a suicide victim. One who doesn’t have the guts to cause the maximum amount of carnage,” Rossi suggests.

“That’s good,” Hotch hears himself say, like he’s hearing it from a distance. “A parent would show aggression. Garcia, look for suicide victims with surviving siblings in the area. Focus on the ones with older siblings.”

The click-clack of her keys is the only audible sound before she reports, “16 left. Still too many names.”

“Do any of them work in auto mechanics, or in proximity to cars?” Reid asks. “There’s a specific compound in the bomb that’s almost impossible to come by unless you have access to garage-grade chemicals or a specialized lab, and the lab is unlikely for him.”

“Two names. Anything else?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch sees you perk up. “Did any of the victims work at that grocery store?”

“Uhh…. One! He wasn’t on our list of two, but his name was Jackson Moyer.”

“Wait, I’ve got something here.” Reid sorts through papers- suicide notes and similar images sent from Garcia, and Hotch doesn’t know when he had time to get them printed out- until he pulls out a sheet of paper. “Jackson Moyer. It says in the note that his girlfriend broke up with him on the same day he got fired.”

Emily leans over to look at the note. “It’s dated nine months ago.”

Nine months. “She was pregnant,” Hotch blurts out, and a heavy silence falls over the group.

Moments later, Garcia gives the confirmation. “Nora Carr, Jackson’s girlfriend, had the baby…. Three days ago, but she gave it up for adoption,” she reports.

“Right before the bombings started.” Rossi’s observation sits heavy for a second until you speak again.

“Back to the victim. Does he have a surviving family member matching the description?” You hold the end of a pen in your mouth, worrying it between your lips while you look at your files. “A sibling or close cousin, maybe.”

There’s a moment of typing before Garcia says, “Bingo. His older brother, Jeremy. It looks like they were really close growing up; same sports teams, friend group, classes, you name it. He doesn’t work at any kind of auto shop, though. He works in retail.”

“He felt betrayed when his brother killed himself,” Hotch starts.

He’s caught off guard when you continue his train of thought for the first time in two years. The ease with which you take over his idea is one that he’s missed; sometimes, when he’s having difficulty going somewhere with a profile, he misses working with you. It’s like you hold the other piece of the puzzle.

But now, even if just temporarily, you’re here and you’re fitting the puzzle piece into place

“And he saw giving away Jackson’s child as the ultimate betrayal. Does he have a boyfriend or girlfriend with access to the chemicals used?” You ask.

“Yep. Her name is Erica Harmon and she’s a grad student at Columbia. She’s a TA in a load of undergrad chem classes, too.”

“He’s got access to the chemicals through her,” JJ says, frowning at her list of materials found in the bombs. “Almost all of this is lab-grade, and the rest of it wouldn’t be hard to find at a supermarket.”

“And he’s probably going after Jackson’s ex-girlfriend next,” Morgan says, already grabbing his gun as the rest of the group stands up.

Prentiss looks at her boss. “Where do you want us?”

“You and Reid, head to Jeremy’s house. Rossi, Morgan, JJ, I want you at the ex-girlfriend’s apartment.”

“Where am I going?” You ask, using one hand on the table to steady yourself when you stand up and wobble slightly. “I need a gun.”

“No, you don’t. You need to stay here, and I’ll stay with you.” Aaron sits back down, pulls you into your own chair with both hands on yours while he ignores the team’s stares.

“Hotch, are you sure?” Morgan asks, but Aaron doesn’t even look over.

“Go.”

He hears the sounds of rustling to his side, his team leaving as fast as they can while Garcia says something about sending them the addresses, but he can hardly focus. “Are you okay?”

“A little…” You bring a hand to the centre of your forehead. “A little dizzy, that’s all. Are they going to be okay?”

“They’ll be just fine. We profiled that he targets the buildings themselves, not the people in them. He won’t be able to take a hostage successfully.” Aaron promises.

He hopes he’s right.

He hopes he hasn’t lied to you yet again, especially when you give him a hopeful smile.

“I missed this,” you say, so casually that his heartbeat falters before you continue to speak, giving him clarification that he doesn’t want. “Working with everyone, being on cases. Biometrics isn’t nearly as interesting.”

The confession cracks his face into something resembling a smile. “Never a dull moment here,” he agrees before the two of you fall into a silence that he can’t decipher.

Should he have said something else? We missed working with you, or I missed having you around, or Biometrics is practically an entry-level unit. Maybe even, Are you thinking of rejoining the team?

He still doesn’t know why he lied to you on the day of the breakup, why the words ‘it’s not reversible’ had ever left his lips. You could have come back to the BAU at any time, Strauss be damned. Of course, it would be his head on the chopping block, but still. You deserved to know.

He doesn’t say anything.

“How’s Beth?” You blurt out, and he wonders how long you’ve been holding onto that question before you asked it.

He wishes you hadn’t asked. He has a moment of panic, gives you a reaction he already hates himself for before he does it. Instead of answering, he stands up and picks up his now-empty mug of tea. “I’m going to get another. Do you need anything? Some water?” He suggests, brushing the back of his hand on your forehead the way he does when Jack is sick.

The look in your eyes is unreadable when you slump down into your seat further, staring at the table. “I’m okay,” you mumble, and Aaron hates himself even more for the familiar way he caresses your hair before he walks off.

His return a few minutes later finds you curled up in one of the large office chairs, your head leaned back while you speak into your cell phone. “… not sure when I’ll be back,” you’re saying, and you glance up when he enters the room. “I’ll call you back later, okay?”

You hang up and tuck the phone under your leg before you look up at him. You don’t say anything.

He doesn’t say anything.

You don’t say anything.

“I brought you tea,” he blurts out.

Aaron Hotchner, ex-prosecutor, Unit Chief of the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, well-known in more than one elite circle for his nuanced understanding of the human mind and what makes it tick. That’s him.

Or maybe it’s not, because after two seconds of awkward silence he’s offering you the mug of tea he made for himself.

“I thought you went to get yourself one,” you say, but a barely-trembling hand reaches forward to accept the mug nonetheless. Thank god he’d grabbed a clean one.

“You need it more. How’s your arm doing?” He asks, and you shrug.

“It’s been better, but it’s been worse. Hurts less when I don’t think about it.”

Aaron has always prided himself on giving you what you need. If you’re telling him that you don’t want to think about it, he can work with that. He can distract you. “Who were you on the phone with?”

It’s excruciating, the length of time that he sits in silence before you answer. It feels like he’s waiting for a signed murder confession. He sits there and waits for what feels like days, weeks, maybe a month or two to hear you say, “My friend.”

“Garcia said you were visiting a friend. That’s why you bought the onesie, isn’t it?” He guesses, remembering that awkward run-in with Beth and Ella at the museum gift shop.

He can’t believe he brought it up. Can you see the shame for it on his face, or the tips of his ears red with embarrassment?

It had been a great day. He had had a rare day off, and he and Beth had taken the kids to the park. They’d gone out for ice cream afterwards, and finally for a tour of Jack’s favourite museum that ended with the museum gift shop. It’s almost a perfect memory, a day that he would fit into a snow globe to preserve if he could.

He knows that if he did that, somehow preserved the day in a sphere full of glycol, he would just remember the look on your face in that gift shop. He still can’t put a name to the emotion other than ‘torn’.

Aaron Hotchner; the master of understanding every human mind except yours.

“She just had a baby,” you respond, and he blinks twice before he remembers that you aren’t in the gift shop anymore and that he asked you a question.

You’re here in front of him now with a broken wrist and a concussion and you finally seem to be opening up to him, and he doesn’t want to risk missing it by staying in his own head.

“Boy or girl?” He asks while you sip the tea. It's an English Breakfast with nothing but a bit of sugar, but you don’t seem to mind.

“He’s a boy. His name is Tristan and he’s cute, too. Do you want to see a picture?” You’re already eagerly reaching for your phone, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you now whether he wants to see the pictures or not.

When you show him the screen, a part of him wishes he had stopped you.

The baby is tiny. Tristan is swaddled in a blanket, the top half of his head poking out just for tiny eyes to squint at the camera. Aaron can see the top of a scrunched nose, maybe the beginning of a cry or a yawn. He examines the details, the obviously-plush blanket with grey-blue floral detailing.

Aaron does his best to fixate his attention on Tristan and ignore the fact that the photo is of you holding the baby, looking almost maternal and definitely happy and…

He looks away.

He can’t help it; he hardly stops himself to consider whether it’s rude of him to actively dodge the photo. Instead, he clears his throat. “Very cute,” he agrees, “You’re right about that.”

“Yeah. He was born a little premature, so I thought I’d take some time off of work, come up and help her out for a little while.” You look down at your cast and let out half a scornful laugh. “Some help I am. I don’t even think I could hold him now.”

“I’m sure you’ve been plenty helpful,” he assures you without a thought. After all, for years you had as much of a hand in raising Jack as Aaron did. “It just might have been cut short a little.”

“Yeah, a little. I’m probably going to have to head home after this. It doesn’t make sense to stay when I can’t do anything.” You look glum at the prospect, and without a thought Aaron reaches a foot out to bump against the roller wheels of your chair. It’s a gentle tap, one that just serves to get your attention.

“Talk to your friend,” he advises. “Maybe you can still cook, or help her clean up around the house. There’s no need to cut your time off short just because you can’t hold a baby.”

Your head tilts just a bit, and your eyes narrow as though you’re looking at an equation in the air that Aaron can’t see, let alone guess the factors of. He hopes you can solve it, whatever it is. “Maybe,” you say, and that’s when he hears the conference room door open.

“Hey, double trouble.” Morgan has a trademark grin from ear to ear as he sits down at the table, and Hotch swivels in his seat to face the team as they file into the room.

How did it appear to them? Him close to your chair, you tucked into it with one leg under you and the other hanging off the side. Did it seem uncomfortable, like you didn’t want to be there? He wishes he could have taken a picture of the two of you, somehow, something he could study and examine and hope to understand.

You’ve been alone in a room for… well, he’s lost track of time, but it’s been a while and he still can’t tell if you’re comfortable or not. He’s got no clue until you pipe up and wheel your chair closer to the table.

“Dibs on being ‘double’. You can be ‘trouble’.” You nudge his shoulder with your own, and Hotch does his best not to smile. There’s no use in encouraging you, after all. Still, he can feel some of the tension drain from his shoulders at the light tone; you’re happy to be here, happy to work on this case and to talk to him.

“Actually, you can’t assign nicknames based off of a group nickname when the name itself is a play on how many members there are,” Reid corrects as he sits down with his case file in hand. “You can only do that if each nickname is a separate title.”

Morgan groans out loud at that and reaches over to swat Reid’s arm. “C’mon, man, you’re taking all the fun out of it,” he complains, leaving Reid with a mildly perplexed look on his face.

“We can try again,” Prentiss offers, slipping out of her bulletproof vest. “Hey, sugar and spice.”

Aaron can feel your reaction before you can even open your mouth, and he beats you to it by a half second by warning, “Don’t say that I’m spice.”

The look on your face tells him that that’s exactly what you meant to say. He pushes away thoughts of Look how well I know you in favour of We’re at work.

“How did takedown go?” He asks. The debrief usually happens on the jet, but it feels wrong to discuss the case without you now. Debriefing is an essential part of each case for everyone who works on it, and he does his best to make sure that each member of his team- past or present- can leave each city with a sense of closure.

If anyone needs closure on this case, it’s the woman wearing a cast who hasn’t had to face the horrors of the BAU in two years.

And maybe Aaron, because it’s just as important to him that you feel okay after the events of the last day. Maybe you need to know that the unsub is behind bars, but Aaron needs to know that you know.

Dave, who has been smirking ever since he saw Hotch quickly wheel his chair away from yours upon the team's arrival, speaks first. “Nice and easy. We caught him while he was assembling a bomb in the apartment complex's boiler room. Taking a hostage never crossed his mind.”

“He didn’t even go to Nora’s apartment. She had no idea what we were talking about when we tried to interview her,” JJ says. She hasn’t sat down yet, and is already working to gather up the metric ton of paper covering the conference room table.

Maybe Hotch should have thought to do that.

“Good. And Erica, the girlfriend?”

“She had no idea about any of it. Morgan found a copy of her keys on the unsub’s keyring, and her best guess was that he copied them right out of her purse.” Prentiss passes JJ a stack of papers and sighs. “I feel bad for that girl. She had no idea what was happening right under her nose.”

“She had no way of knowing that her boyfriend would be pushed over the edge like he was. She’s gonna need help after this, for sure,” Morgan says thoughtfully, and the group mumbles out a collective agreement.

“Either way, mi bellos,” Rossi stands up to clasp his hands together, “The case is closed and we’ve got someone in cuffs. All’s well that ends… well, you know.”

It catches Hotch off guard when his stomach pangs at the thought of leaving. Boarding the jet and heading home. Leaving New York, leaving Jackson and Jeremy and their girlfriends in the past, leaving you to deal with the aftereffects of being injured on your own.

He can’t stop himself from speaking, even if just to re-think his words before they become law. “We can stay the night.”

There’s no subtlety to the rise of Morgan’s eyebrows, or the glance that Prentiss and JJ exchange. But there’s nothing he can do about it now. The words are out there. It’s already done.

“Why would we do that?” Reid asks, always one to voice the question no one wants to vocalize. Hotch has always loved his curious mind and his need to understand every aspect of something.

Even if he kind of wants to throttle the kid right now, because how the hell is he supposed to answer that?

“Because you all did some good work today,” he answers after a painfully long minute, “and deserve a night off. We can all go out for dinner and be on the jet early in the morning.”

That answer seems to satisfy the room, and Aaron ignores the look Rossi is giving him as he glances over at you and drops his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you promise. “Do you, you know, maybe have an extra seat at that table?” You look nervous; he can read that clear as day. The idea that this could put you on edge almost makes a laugh bubble up in his stomach but he shoves it down in favour of a smile.

“I’m sure we can pull one up,” he assures you in a murmur. “We’d love to see you a bit more before we leave.”

“Oh.” You sound almost surprised, and he’s glad that he thought to hide behind the royal ‘we’. “Okay. Can I ride there with one of you?”

“Of course.” Aaron stands up and pulls your chair away from the table so you’ve got room to stand. Unnecessary chivalry; he has to remind himself to cut it out. “We can take a taxi.”

—

That’s how, fifteen minutes later, he finds himself in the passenger seat of a cab with you, JJ, and Garcia squished together in the backseat.

He wonders what you’re talking about back there behind the partition in low whispers, the occasional giggle, and one or two sharp “Shh”’s. The taxi stops too soon for him to find out, and your little group finds the rest of the team at a table already.

You slide into a seat and Hotch unconsciously moves to take the seat farthest from you- a habit he’s built in the last two years- only to find Morgan already sitting in it. “Sorry, Hotch. You snooze, you lose,” he defends with a wide smile.

By the time he turns to see what other seats are free, the only one left is right next to you. “Aaron, over here,” you say, and with all eyes on him there’s nothing to do but come around the table and sink into the stiff chair.

The waitress comes by to take drink orders a minute later, and Hotch orders himself a water. He’s here on official business, and he refuses to get drunk. It’s what his father did, and that always ended up in violence or big scenes made in public. Hotch does everything he can to avoid that side of himself, especially when he’s representing the government.

“What kind of wines do you have?” He hears you ask, and he turns his head to see the waitress produce a menu from what must have been thin air.

“She can’t drink,” he says loudly, putting out a hand like he can stop the menu from making its way to you. “She has a concussion.”

Speaking around you, to you, for you, is a dance, as Aaron is slowly learning.

You frown, and he hopes he hasn’t overstepped. You don’t say anything, and he holds his breath. You finally look up at the waitress and order a water, and he sighs in relief.

“Thanks, it slipped my mind,” you murmur once she’s walked away, and he gives you a tight smile before getting dragged into an argument between Morgan and Reid.

Dinner, for the most part, passes in a blur of quiet conversation and polite laughter. It isn’t until everyone is eating dessert, half the team feeling the effects of the wines they’ve been indulging in, that everything goes to hell.

He really shouldn’t be so surprised. The evening has gone without a hitch so far- Aaron’s left arm occasionally bumping your right when you try to eat at the same time has really been the only obstacle- so he figures that you’re about due for something to go wrong. Some event to stir up the peaceful bubble he’s stumbled across.

It happens, as many things do, in the form of Emily Prentiss opening her mouth. She leans over you to speak to Aaron, and it’s like he’s watching the train crash in slow motion when she says to him, “So, how’s the single life?”

He can feel the way you stiffen up next to him, white knuckles on your fork, peering out of the corner of your eye. Do you want to hear the answer? “Prentiss, please. That’s hardly appropriate.” His voice is being held together like it’s wrapped in duct tape, but it comes out steady enough.

Emily sighs at the scolding. “I just wanted to know,” she grumbles, pushing a piece of cheesecake around on her plate. “You and Beth broke up a week ago; I’m just curious.”

“Good question,” JJ says. “Have you talked to her since? Wait, is that why she wasn’t at the wedding?”

“You told us she was sick, but statistically this is the least likely time of year for someone to experience cold or flu related symptoms.” Spencer frowns down at his rootbeer. “Did you lie? You could have told us that you broke up. We could have helped.”

“Same way I got over the second Mrs. Rossi,” Dave jokes, lifting his glass in a salute. “I don’t think I left the strip club for a month.”

“Please,” Aaron repeats, raising his voice slightly. “This isn’t appropriate.” He directs it primarily to Emily, who started this whole thing, and he notices the shell-shocked look on your face out of the corner of his eye.

“I just wanted to know,” Emily repeats, as petulant as a stubborn child.

She wanted you to know, more likely. Aaron has been careful about not talking about his relationship- Emily only knows because he developed a case of drunkenly loose lips the night of the wedding and overshared to her wife, Katie- and now you know the one thing he didn’t want to become widespread. There’s no way that wasn’t intentional.

“I should…” You push your chair back with a ‘screech’ and stand up, hurrying out of the restaurant in the direction of the lobby without further excuse.

Hotch watches you go, lets out a groaned “God.” while he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I need to- I’ll be back.” He tosses down his napkin and takes off in the direction you exited.

“Now, that wasn’t too nice,” Derek points out, and Emily shrugs.

“I didn’t like the tension. At least now they’ll talk.”

Meanwhile, Aaron finds himself rounding the large fountain display in the lobby to talk to you. “Are you leaving?”

When you look up, there’s vague surprise on your face. Did you think he wouldn’t follow you? If there’s one thing Aaron knows about himself by now, it’s that he would follow you to hell and back.

“I think I should. I think that would be best.” Instead of looking at him, you fiddle with your keys and look everywhere else. The chandelier, fountain, reception desk; everywhere except at Aaron himself.

“Just… just hold on, a couple of minutes. I didn’t mean to upset you, by not saying something. I thought it would be… easier.”

That gets a reaction. Your eyes snap to his, and he can see something like hurt swimming in them. “Easier?”

“Yes. You didn’t have anything to do with it; why should I have to tell you?” He challenges, even though it’s half a lie. You weren’t faultless in the breakup, but he’s not going to be sharing that fact.

“You don’t think I would want to know?” You take a small step towards him. “Even just so I could be there for you?”

“That’s not a good idea,” he counters. “I have friends I can speak to about breakups.” He regrets his words the second that he sees the pain in your eyes. Oh, because you’re supposed to be friends now. That’s right; his last breakup was with you.

Three feet away, perched on the edge of the fountain, an older woman is watching the two of you intensely. She’s obviously listening, and that’s something that Aaron doesn’t want to deal with. “Look,” he says, his voice low and quiet, “Will you come up to my room? We can talk there, but I’m not doing this in public.”

The conflicting emotions on your face seem to be going to war until you take a deep breath and take Aaron’s hand, your fingers wrapping around his as you board the elevator.

He hopes you don’t notice David Rossi standing near the elevators. He hopes you don’t notice the thumbs up that the older man gives him, or the middle finger he gives in return.

The elevator ride is silent and long, almost excruciatingly so, and he’s half relieved once you get into the hotel room and take a seat on separate beds facing each other. His suitcase is against the wall, zipped up, and the desk is covered in various writings and readings that he doesn’t even know when Spencer had time to unpack.

You break the silence first, your face expressionless like it’s an interrogation. It feels like he’s on the wrong side of the interrogation table for once when you speak. “You and Beth broke up.”

“We did,” he agrees, and that’s when he wonders if he made a mistake bringing you up here. He doesn’t want you to hear the whole story; why not just confirm the breakup in the lobby and send you on your way?

Well, he couldn’t have done that, and he knows why. It’s still a half-decent alternative to this, though.

“Why?”

“Why… did we break up?” He clarifies, and you nod. “We wanted different things.”

Finally, emotion crosses your face; a flicker of anger. He doesn’t blame you, especially when he remembers the sacrifice you made. “Different things? So, she didn’t want more kids? Or was it work-related?”

He isn’t going to get through this without telling you the whole story; he can see that now. As hard as it is, he knows you aren’t letting this rest until you get a comprehensive answer.

“She had a pregnancy scare.”

Your sudden bark of laughter is hardly a surprise, but it makes him wince all the same. “You broke up because you don’t want to have another kid? Are you serious?”

He tries to answer. Instead, memory hits him like a brick wall, wraps its arms around him and drags him down into it.

“Aaron? Honey, where are you?” Beth’s cheery voice entered the room before she did, and Aaron looked up at her with a smile.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?” He asked. He hated this domestic part, the part where he had to pretend to be just as in love as she was.

But love grows, he knew. Just as flowers could blossom from cracks in the pavement, love could develop with time and affection. It wouldn’t be fair to her, to not return the open affection she gave him.

He always wondered why it never felt easy or effortless, why he often felt like he was just a young boy playing at being in a relationship, instead of an adult who was actually in one.

“My day was good,” she said, a barely-contained smile on her face. “So, you know how I’ve been under the weather lately?”

That was an understatement. She’d thrown up more than once in the last couple of days. Love or not, Aaron cared enough that he was on the verge of taking her to the emergency room himself. “Of course. Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really. But my period was late yesterday, so I thought, why not?” Why not, what? She wasn’t making any sense, and it wasn’t until Aaron saw the little stick in her hand that the pieces flew together for him, like a puzzle begging to be solved. “And, well…”

He stared down at tanned hands presenting him the stick, two tiny lines deciding his future for him. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant,” she confirmed, throwing her arms around his neck. He slowly brought both arms up to hug her- a facade of excitement, even though his face would certainly betray him if she were to look at it. “Isn’t that great?”

“That’s… wow.” It was as honest of an answer as he could give. “Are you going to see a doctor to make sure?”

“Of course I am.” She pulled away just enough to kiss him, but he broke away soon enough. “Aaron? This is great, isn’t it? Aren’t you excited?” There was an edge in her voice, one that told him that his face- expressions of shock, uncertainty, certainly no joy- was giving him away.

He couldn’t dodge the direct question, the look in her eye. She already knew the answer before she asked the question, and they both knew that this was his chance for redemption.

He didn’t take it.

A week later, the doctor confirmed the false positive. Aaron couldn’t have brought himself to be upset if he tried.

The same afternoon, Beth packed up hers and Ella’s things, and they were gone.

He wanted to feel sad. He wanted to feel heartbroken. He wanted to punish himself, for knowing that he had missed out on the closest chance he had had to a real family in years.

It was the reason you left; your sacrifice, the heartache you’d both been left with, everything you’d both gone through was deemed useless in the deciding moment. It was his one chance, and he hadn’t taken it.

He just felt numb.

“Aaron.” Your voice, pitched sharp, manages to pull him out of his trance. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t know why you’re asking. He wants to know if you’re okay. He wants to apologize, to fall to his knees and hold onto you the way he should have two years ago.

“I’m fine.”

“So, Beth had a pregnancy scare,” you prompt. “And that’s why you broke up?”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

He hesitated too long.

“Why?” You ask.

He knows that you’re only pushing it because you know him.

You know him better than anyone; you know that he doesn’t walk away from things that he wants, not when he has a choice.

And wasn’t that what he wanted? Didn’t he want Beth, more children, a family of his own?

“Don’t do this.” It’s a plea, and it goes unanswered.

“Why did you break up? Aaron… come on.” The desperation in your voice kisses his ears. It reminds him that you’ve been hurt at least as badly as he’s been. It tells him that you aren’t there as a concerned friend; you’re there as someone who deserves the answer to the question you asked. Someone who’s a part of the twisted equation, who fits into the formula of the last two years. Someone who’s been hurt by him, for him, only for him to throw that sacrifice away.

He replies by just saying your name, the name he’s spoken so many times. He’s said it before with love, playful annoyance and affection. After the breakup he said it less often, and it was often delivered with spite or tears of proportions that he didn’t know he would, or could, shed.

This time, when he says your name, he thinks he sounds… broken. His voice cracks, his face flushes, and he looks down at his feet. He’s still got his dress shoes on, and he counts the eyelets- 3, 4, 5 pairs of them, black laces looped neatly through- without saying another word.

Your name, as broken as it is between his lips, is an admission of guilt. It’s a confession, an entreaty for you to stop pushing, and it contains unspoken defeat.

“Aaron.” Your voice is firm when you repeat his name, and his eyes snap up from his shoes- 3, 4, 5, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5- to meet yours. “Don’t I deserve to know?”

You do. He knows you do. The ‘don’t I deserve?’ angle is never something you’ve used, and he knows this is a last ditch effort to get the truth out of him.

You do deserve to know.

How can he say it? How can he tell you the truth? How can he possibly look into your earnest eyes and pretend that he can defend himself and the decisions that he’s made?

He can tell you that more kids doesn’t make sense; he knows that, in a factual sense. He wasn’t around enough when Jack was little, is hardly better at being around now. The job is priority; he could get hurt or worse, and leave behind a widow with more mouths to feed than she can handle. He could become a twisted version of his father, pitting his children against each other. He’s too old to run around with toddlers for the next ten years.

He can tell you any number of things that make sense, but you won’t accept anything less than the truth. That, at least, is written plain as day on your face.

“She isn’t you.”

His words hit you like a bucket of ice water. They slap you so hard that you have half a mind to bring a hand up to your cheek and check for sore spots. “Aaron-”

“It’s true. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you wanted the truth and that’s it.” His breathing sounds more ragged now, like he’s fighting to stay collected.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking, telling you. He isn’t trying to get you back. You made your choice, you walked away, and that’s that.

“Aaron. You want a family,” you remind him, your voice cracking. How can he not remember? How can he throw away the last two years, disregard your sacrifice like this?

Hadn’t that always been his dream? A positive pregnancy test with a woman who loved him? And yet, in the final hour, he’d walked away. He’d made a choice, one that he has to face now, with you.

“I know. God, I know, but it just… it couldn’t happen.”

“Because she’s not me? Are you serious?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, fraught with disbelief and maybe a hint of fear at the potential weight of his answer, and you wish that Aaron were speaking even quieter when he responds. You wish you couldn’t hear him at all.

“Because there’s no family without you.”

The dry scoff that escapes you is answer enough, especially once it’s paired with your head dropping into your hands. “Then what the hell have we been doing?”

“I tried,” he defends. Desperation is poured into every syllable, filling in the spaces of the things he can’t say like resin on wood. “I gave it a chance, she was happy. But when I saw that test…”

Neither of you knows if he’s stopped to figure out what he should say, or if it’s because he can’t say it. He looks small, appears defenceless in a way that he never lets himself.

“I couldn’t do it,” he finishes. He spreads his hands out, a placating gesture. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want a family with her. When I saw that test, I was scared. Terrified. A baby is a commitment, and I don’t- I can’t- see myself making that commitment with anyone but you.”

“You know how I feel about kids.” For a moment his eyes flicker down, to where your phone sits on the bed, and you have half a mind to wonder if he’s going to bring Tristan into this.

Maybe he’s settled more into this conversation. Maybe he’s realized that he doesn’t have much to lose here. For whatever reason, his rebuttal to you, perched facing him on the opposite bed- worlds away, yet only mere feet- is more of a challenge than a question. “When did I ask you to have any?”

“What?” You tilt your head the slightest bit, stray hairs illuminated in the yellow-grey light, and he thinks his heart skips a beat when you blink.

“I didn’t ask you to have kids. I never asked for that.” He knows it for a fact; that simple thought has been his port at sea more than once, on the nights where he wondered exactly how things had gone so wrong.

You blink again. ‘I want us to get married, have as many kids as we can, I want all of that and I want it with you.’ Those were his words, spoken so passionately two years ago.

But there were other words, too, and they fly back into your mind like they’re trying to haunt you. Words that circle you, remind you that you were the reason he couldn’t have that life.

‘I’ve been thinking, and you’re more important to me than having more kids.’

‘Just say the word, and I’ll never bring it up again.’

‘I’m not going to sit here and tell you what I want, because I’m not forcing you into that. You don’t want it, fine. We don’t do it.’

You remember him confessing what he wanted, so earnest and unexpecting of you to go along with it.

Phrases swirl your head, sentences that haven't done so since the breakup.

Sentences that you hadn’t let yourself understand until now.

‘I would be happier knowing that I’m in a relationship with someone who wants the same things I do. I want that with you, I want you to want it, but that isn’t happening.’

‘I want us to go back to normal. How we were.’

‘You’re all I need. I mean it.’

“You want a family. That’s what you want.” Your protest is weak, and you don’t know if it’s a protest for your self-protection or his feelings.

Maybe it’s both.

“You were my family. You and Jack. I was so happy with you.”

“Not as happy as you could have been,” you counter. Aaron visibly hesitates, a moment of back-and-forth sway before he crosses the room to sit next to you on the other bed.

“You…” the breath he takes is deep and rattling. “You made me happier than I could ask for.”

You move back and he does too, kicking off his shoes to mirror your crossed legs. The two of you sit and face each other. The headboard sets the scenery behind him, cheap hotel wall art behind you. When you take a breath, so does he.

“You walked away,” you remind him. It isn’t a show of blame; it’s a reminder, pure and simple, that he wasn’t happy with you.

“No, I didn’t.” He reaches out, one of his hands trembling as it grasps yours. “I wouldn’t have.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Instead, he watches as his hand wraps around yours, squeezes it once.

He’s just about to let go when you squeeze back.

“You told me to go,” he whispers, staring down at those linked hands. If he looks you in the eye now, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. “It’s what you wanted.”

You laugh, and the sound is humourless and dry. “What I wanted? Aaron, you only stayed past that first day for me, to make me feel like I wasn’t ruining your life. I didn’t kick you out; I let you go.”

“I didn’t get a choice. I chose to stay, I chose you above a bigger family, and you didn’t let me,” Aaron says, and your hand tightens on his. “I tried, okay? I- I found Beth, we moved in together. For God’s- Ella called me ‘dad’. I did my best to have that life. I tried. It didn’t work.”

“I don’t know what you want,” you confess, and he hates himself a little more when he sees the heartbreak in your eyes. “I just want you to be happy. I thought I was giving you that.”

Aaron shifts himself, moves a little closer to you. He thinks he might be about to say the wrong thing, the thing that destroys whatever tentative relationship the two of you have built.

He doesn’t care.

This relationship, this dance of overdoing and understepping and caring too much without saying enough? He doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t care about throwing it away.

“Nothing,” he vows, extending one hand to raise your chin when you look down, “Nothing has ever made me as happy as you did. That’s all I wanted. You.”

You avert your gaze, and you feel your face grow warm. It’s been a long time since he looked at you like this, with all of the care and attention in the world somehow pouring from the gaze of warm hazel eyes locked on yours.

“What do you want me to say?” You ask after a stretch of silence. Not even the sound of breathing dares to disrupt the quiet; neither of you want to make the wrong move right now, not when you can see the crossroads ahead.

“Whatever you want to say. Just not what you think I want to hear.”

That’s what it’s come down to, at the root. Both of you lying, sneaking, saying and doing whatever you can to protect the other’s feelings and do what you think is best. He’s tired of it.

You did what you thought was the right thing, and let him go. He did what he thought was the right thing, and chased the life you made possible by leaving. But neither of you are happy, and he can admit that now.

“I still don’t want kids.”

“I’m still not asking you to have any.” He waits two beats, unsure if he can even bring himself to ask what he knows he has to.

“Does Jack count?” He’s breathless as he waits for the answer. You could have found freedom in the last two years, after several spent living a mother’s schedule. Maybe you don’t want a hand in any child’s life, and he won’t begrudge you that.

“He’s… no,” you say, and Aaron exhales in what might be relief. “But that doesn’t mean I want more. You want more.”

“I want you,” he corrects, the same way he did two years ago. Maybe this time you’ll listen, and accept his words for the truth that they are. “I had more. I didn’t want it, not without you.”

Your breathing, shallow and timid, hitches at his words. He notices the slip-up in a heartbeat, wants to trip over himself and correct it. Before he can, you say, “But the future-”

“The future,” he interrupts, clasping one of your hands in both of his, “My future, it only matters if it’s you.If you’re happy with Jack, I’m happy. You’re what I need. You’re all I need.”

“Aaron, please.” Your voice is small, and that’s when he realizes that he’s been trailblazing this conversation with hardly a thought about what you want. Maybe you’ve moved on, or fallen out of love.

He doesn’t think you have, though. Between your conversation at the wedding and the fact that you’re still here, both hands now holding onto his, wide eyes peering into his own, he thinks he’s made a safe bet.

“Please, what?” He murmurs. He can defer to you now, let you approach this at your pace. He’s said his piece.

It’s not until he sees your eyes squeeze shut that he remembers your concussion, and he’s sure that this conversation isn’t helping what must be a painful headache.

“I… it’s getting late. And I really should sleep. My head...”

Every instinct in Aaron’s body is well-honed, trained to take opportunities that might pass him by otherwise. It’s what got him Haley, what got him into the BAU, and now it’s what might get you back.

Every instinct is screaming not to let you leave.

“Do you want to talk more about this later?” He offers, his right hand releasing your left. The other two stay linked, his fingers brushing the cast, and you make no move to loosen them as you nod.

He waits. He isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, but he waits.

You close your eyes, already on the verge of rethinking before you speak. But you’ve got instincts, too, and they’re all telling you to stay in this room. Your future is in this room, and you aren’t about to close the door on that. Even if the conversation can wait, you know exactly how it will end.

It’s clear to you now that Aaron only left because he did the same thing you did, tried to protect your feelings. He never would have left if you hadn’t forced his hand and left first, and the thought of the time that you lost makes your chest seize unpleasantly.

It’s not too late to undo old mistakes, though.

“Can I sleep here? It’s not really safe, getting a taxi this late.”

Aaron lets go of your other hand first. “Of course, you can.” He’s half situated to go to sleep already, just has to take off his tie and loosen his shirt. He doesn’t get off the bed, and that’s why it surprises him when you lay down in the same bed, on your side.

“So you don’t have to share with Spencer when he gets here,” you explain through a yawn, and his heart hurts when he sees the way your nose crinkles. He’s missed it, missed you.

Sleep comes quickly, somehow. The exhaustion of the day, of the conversation, overtakes you both in what feels like mere moments.

When Aaron wakes up, it’s with his arms around you and his nose pressing into your neck. He holds on for a moment before he has to let go; you’ll have time later, and the team is waiting.

Getting out of bed, Aaron finds the other queen bed- Spencer’s- empty, untouched.

When the two of you arrive at the jet, late with your suitcase, he says, “I stayed with Morgan and Rossi. We thought you could use some privacy.”

You let go of Aaron’s hand to reach out and ruffle Spencer’s hair, ignoring the look he gives you when you mess up his curls. “Thanks, Spence.”

If the team is anything, it’s ‘respectful when the time calls for it’. No one says a word when you and Aaron sit next to each other. No one blinks when your hand slides home into his.

His fingers lace around yours. He squeezes once, and you squeeze back. As the jet takes off, soaring towards DC and your new future, you hold onto him. It’s going to be alright.

Once upon a time, they always said that you and Aaron were the lucky ones. Maybe they were right.

Tags: @crowfootwrites @abschaffer2 @jaspxr @angelfxllcm @spacecowboyhotch @ssamorganhotchner @sadgirlml @sunshinemunchkin @wheelsupkels @ashhotchner @laurensprentiss @hotchnerxo @strange-mischief @helmihotchner @dontcallmekittens @ssacharcoalgrey @allthefandomstogether @pandorasdreamings @hotched @scargarcia-magshotchner @multiverse-mxdness @nevillescomslut @queenofthepouges @ivanaplvc @itseightbeats @justreadingficsdontmindme @jareauswife @reidselle @rousethemouse @mojo366 @anlin2058 @realdirectionx @feedthemadness-sweetie

Series tags: @riot—ing, @jori21, @simpingfortoomanypeople, @mynotesapptbh

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Tell me what you thought/yell at me <3

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could you do a Tangerine x reader fic where Tangerine asks the reader to marry him and it possibly leads to something else? Thanks.

gif made by: @konront

Thanks for the request!

Warning- Slight Smut, Mention of pregnancy and children

I’m really rusty at writing smut 😭 my other blog was made forever ago so I kinda forgot how to but hopefully this is good enough

Tangerine was scared. Which wasn’t something he usually felt. Usually, all he would have to worry about was jobs. But the white death is dead now, and he quit doing contract work. So now, he was working at a grocery store, and he didn’t have to worry so much.

But he was scared because of the possibility of rejection. What if you don’t want to get married? There’s a lot that could happen.

Recently, he saw some married couples in public along with their children or child. Before this, he’s never thought of wanting children or being married. But he didn’t have to be scared that one day, he’d go on a job and he wouldn’t come back home to you.

He would have loved to see you pregnant.

You’ve been dating for years, but he really wanted to take another step in the relationship.

He had planned months ahead, he already had a ring, a place, and he had some friends help. (Lemon definitely was excited when tangerine told him)

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The next day, he told you to get dressed in something nice (he didn’t really care) and be ready at 8 pm.

You said okay, a bit confused but did it nonetheless. When you asked where you were going he said it was a secret. It was a beach. When you left the car you were still slightly confused on why you were dressed nicely to go to the beach.

“C’mon.” He said nervously as he opened your car door.

He checked his phone and lemon sent him a text “I see you 👀 good luck mate.”

Tangerine mentally groaned. Of course he was here.

Tangerine made it look like it was an innocent date, you guys went to a nice restaurant on the beach, and then he led you back.

“Thanks for today. It was amazing.” You smiled and kissed him on the cheek. But then he grabbed your hand and led you up to a walkway.

The walkway was full of flowers, with rose petal on the ground. It had the perfect view of the sunset behind them.

“It’s so pretty.” You muttered and looked at the water. Behind you, he got on his knees and pulled the ring out of his pocket.

When you looked back, you didn’t see him automatically. But when you did, your mouth went agape.

“(Your name), I’ve loved you since I’ve first seen you. You’re my favorite person. You’re the only person I wanna see when I wake up in the morning. You’re the only person I can see me being with. You’re the most special, gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. So.. will you marry me?”

Your eyes watered slightly and you were shocked as you nodded.

He slid the ring on your finger and smiled widely. He stood up and you quickly hugged him, he had the widest smile you’ve ever seen him have on his whole life.

“I love you, so so much.” He said, as he kissed you.

Lemon and a few of yours and his friends came out from nearby bushes and cheered you guys on.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Tangerine thanked everyone for coming and setting up, he also paid them but that was before.

When you got back in the car, he looked at you and smiled.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, were you?” He said, fixing his hair in the rear view mirror.

“Not at all.”

“When we get home, I have another surprise for you.” He smirked.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

When you guys finally got home, as soon as he opened and closed the door he didn’t give you a second.

He immediately had his hands on you, kissing you as your moans started to fill the empty house.

“T, can we at least go to- to the room?” You said, breathlessly as he nodded.

“Ladies first.” He said as soon as you stepped close to the room. You rolled your eyes and got onto the bed anyways. He smirked and immediately made his way to you. He stared down at you underneath him, as you kissed again.

It was gonna be a long night.

#tangerine x reader #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train x reader #tangerine #tangerine bullet train

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anangelwhodidntfall · 2 years

Text

Unplanned Happiness: Eddie Munson

Stranger Things Masterlist

word count: 1.1k

Request: Could you write and fic where Eddie accidentally gets the reader pregnant and their parents kick them out so they go live with Eddie and his uncle?I think Eddie would be scared shirtless at first but would end up being a great dad

You sat there in shock as the pregnancy tests all read positive...there was no way you thought as Nancy came into the bathroom to check on you. It was her idea to go grab some after you've been sick all week, and then when you realized that you were late for your period, she suggested for you try them to see.

"Are you okay?" She asked you.

"I don't know Nance.....I don't know what I'm going to do my parents are going to kill me and I don't know Eddie is going to react either. Nance I'm scared." You said through tears.

"It's going to be okay, I promise I'll be here for you even if no one else but I know Eddie wouldn't let you go through this by yourself. So let's go tell Eddie first and then we can figure out where to go from there, okay?" She said as you nodded.

You two climbed into her car and drove over to Eddie's trailer and you were a nervous wreck the whole time as you thought about this conversation was going to go. When you two finally reached Eddie's trailer it made you want to stay in the car and turn around and not tell him at all.

"Come on he deserves to know. I'll wait out here for you just in case things go south." She said as you nodded your head at her.

"Sweetheart, I was expecting to see you today." He said placing a kiss on your lips and hugging you.

"I know but there's something I kinda need to talk to you about." You said making him nervous.

"Everything okay?" He asked as you two took a seat on the couch.

"Eddie...Eddie, I'm pregnant." You said through tears as Eddie felt his heart drop because there was no way he was ready for a kid.

"How? We were so careful." He said trying to figure out how this was possible.

"The Metallica concert we went to a few days after spring break ended and we had sex in your van." You said remembering how you and Eddie were so caught in the lust that you both said fuck the condom because you both forgot to bring some.

"I remember now. What do you want to do? Because I'll support you either way." He said reaching for your hand.

"I was gonna keep it....I know it's a stupid thing to do but I'm kinda excited to be a mother." You said.

"Then I know we'll be the greatest parents to this baby. What did your parents say?" He asked you.

"I haven't told them yet. I wanted to tell you first before I talk to them." You said already knowing they were going to kill you.

"Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what." He said placing a kiss on your lips as you felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders.

The next day you sat down and told your parents who were furious that you were pregnant and much less that it was Eddie's. But when you told them you were keeping it they told you to get out of their house and to never come back so in the midst of your tears you packed a few bags and called Nancy who said that you could stay with her because there was no way you cold stay with Eddie and his uncle.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler." You said as she wrapped her arms around you.

"No need to thank me sweetheart, but I am going to have a talk with you and Eddie once he gets here about how serious this is." She said as you nodded your head at her.

A few minutes later Eddie walks through the door and immediately wraps his arms around glad to see you safe and was okay after what your parents did to you. Mrs.Wheeler sat down with you two and talked to you about everything you were getting yourselves into and made sure you two knew the struggle you were gonna face and was she saw how serious you two were she relaxed a bit.

"So Eddie I figured that they could stay here with me and Nancy where we have room, and you are free to come to visit and stay when you want, while you two figure out what you're going to do." Mrs. Wheeler said as Eddie nodded his head at her words.

Those nine months were rough for the both of you, but you two were able to get an apartment so that you could get out of the way at the Wheeler's. Nancy and her mom were great at helping you get through this and so was Eddie. You had never seen him cry before you two went to your sonogram appointment and found out that you were having a boy or when the baby kicked for the first time. He was so involved with the baby, you have never seen him so focused on something other than D&D, like some nights when he thought you were sleeping he would talk to the baby or play music for it which made you smile.

As it got closer to your due date, Eddie was nervous about leaving you to go to work or school and Mrs. Wheeler said that she would call him if something happened. That day you and Mrs. Wheeler were getting the apartment set up when you felt something warm leak down your leg making you realize you were going to labor.

You kept crying out for Eddie as the pain coursed throughout the body wondering where he was as Nancy swore he was on his way. A few minutes later Eddie walked in and switched spots with Nancy apologizing for taking so long and telling you what a good job you were doing. A few hours later after so much pain and exhaustion, you and Eddie's son was born and you swore your heart couldn't be fuller.

"Dad would like to hold him?" The nurse asked after they got him cleaned and everything.

"Go ahead." You said to Eddie who didn't want to leave your sight.

Eddie was nervous about holding the baby at first but once the nurse showed him how to, he got the hang out of it falling in love with his son as he walked over and took a seat next to you on the bed. While he was scared at first about being a parent, he was happy that it was you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie muson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader

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unpopularbunny · 2 years

Text

Sanemi x Chubby!Reader

Warnings: MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS!! IF YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW DONT LOOK!!! (no smut though!)

Start: Here

Next: Here

A/N: We gots to see it through,,,,,,I’m gonna write the last fic and hopefully have it out this weekend or next week sometime. Please forgive any mistakes you see in here. I didn’t have a beta reader this time around!

Taglist: @trishiepo0

The world around you was numb.

After one of the nurses forced you to take a pregnancy test and the results were confirmed to be positive, you had been in a state of complete denial. You worked twice as hard to keep yourself from sitting still too long. If you found yourself with nothing to do you were drowning in your own thoughts. You begged the nurse to keep your secret, fearing that the house owner would kick you out. You relied on herbs to keep the morning sickness at bay and managed to hide your pregnancy well so far.

But you were so scared.

You hadn’t seen sanemi since the incident with the ‘tea’ and you were more scared of telling him the truth than anything else. Sure, he would say dirty things along the lines of getting you pregnant while you both were in the middle of fucking, but that’s all it was. Just words. He was a demon slayer and demon slayers are to expect to die any day. There were whispers and rumors of the ‘training’ and preparations regarding them going on the offensive against Muzan. It was slow around the house because of this, more slayers focusing on the training rather than hunting demons.

Winter was beginning to fall and your chores dwindled down by the day. Nights were the worst, you tossed and turned restlessly, any sleeping position more uncomfortable than the last. In the stillness of the night your thoughts consumed you. The idea of telling him crosses your mind so many times, but you know that you can’t. Your arrangement with him was never ‘permanent’, it was an unspoken agreement that you both had. An agreement that involved your bodies and nothing more, much less these useless feelings that you had.

You don’t remember falling asleep but you were awoken by someone knocking on your door. Upon opening it stood the current source of your problems. He looked a little….rough for wear. His eyes were casted on the ground and for once he didn’t have something to say. He couldn’t look at you. How could he? He was working tireless training slayer and trying to get them at their mediocre best for the final battle. You were his source of problems as he was yours. You occupied every space in his brain, every thought, every time he closed his eyes, it was you. It frustrated him to no end and everyone around him took note of his sloppy moves. Even kagaya. When he begrudgingly told kagaya about this little ‘crush’ he had on you, he was elated! He encouraged sanemi to come see you before the final battle, which takes us to now.

You let him in and you both spend the morning holed up in your room, but this time it was different. This time he was not here to lay hands on you, this time he was here to talk, which he hardly did in the first place. Your morning sickness came and went, you excusing yourself to hide it, just a little longer. You could tell he wanted to say something, you didn’t want to force him so you didn’t. Instead you observed how focused he looked, eyebrows knitted together as he focused and stared at an item in the room, anything to keep his eyes off of you. Anything to keep down the urge to tell you how much he loved you and didn’t want to die because of you. He didn’t know how you truly felt about him and didn’t want to give himself hope.

“Would you….Like to talk?” Your voice was quiet and sweet. He didn’t respond or look at you, “My apologies Sanemi, I didn’t mean to-“

“I was the oldest out of seven siblings.” He starts, his tone is rough but there’s an edge to it, “My father was a bastard and an alcoholic, he was killed for being a fucking idiot.” He laughs bitterly. It was as if a dam broke inside of sanemi. He began pouring himself out to you. He told you about his mother eating five of his siblings and how he had to kill her to protect the only brother he had left. His voice waivers when he describes the feeling he had when he had to abandon his brother and join the corps. When he pauses to collect himself you tell him he doesn’t have to do this if he doesn’t want to, but he keeps going as if he didn’t hear you.

You find out so much about him in this moment. How his blood is special and makes demons go crazy, ‘Marechi’ blood he called it. He goes on about his special training that he’s conducting. He calls it ‘pound training’ and sounds quite proud of himself for picking the name. Sanemi ran into his brother Genya and his voice cracks again when he tells you how Genya is eating demons to compensate for his inability to use breathing techniques.

It feels like hours before he finally stops, his breathing having picked up as with his emotions. You look at him and he’s looking right at you for the first time since he arrived. He looks…..scared. He looks worried, as if he’s looking for you for something, anything. You wrap your arms around him tightly, burying your face in his neck and whisper, just low enough for him to hear.

“You must have been so scared, right ‘Nemi?”

He’s hugging you so tight you almost feel like he’s squeezing the air out of you, he’s shaking and you know that he’s crying. You let him hold you as long as he wants. He’d never been given a moment in his life to feel vulnerable. You were the safest place he could think of, here in your arms in your room. This is why he loved you, you weren’t perfect, your body was bigger, but you were smart, you were beautiful, you never looked at him with fear or malice. He had to earn your respect as you had to earn his. You were his equal.

You both moved from the tea table and took to your futon, you laying on his chest. He had divulged his entire past to you, it was only fair that you do the same.

“My father….was a carpenter.” It had been so long since you talked about your family, “My grandparents ran a farm on the outskirts of our village and my mom worked there and helped sell vegetables and rice.” You recalled the memories of following your grandmother around the field, her showing you different stages of plant life. Your father Was well known in the village and as you grew you desired to take after his carpentry skills. He never doubted you and trained you just as he would any other man who studied under him. You wished that every man could have been as kind as your father. When you attempted to work with your father for the first time, the client denied you and your father access, telling you both that a ‘woman has no place doing that kind of work.’. Your father was outraged but you were merely defeated, you didn’t have your hopes up much in the first place. So you returned home and didn’t ask again about it.

While looking into other mean of work your grandfather fell ill. Your mother insisted you move to their farm as she couldn’t be there every day to take care of him and your grandmother wasn’t any younger than he. Your gardening skills proved to be more than enough to pick up where things slowed down. You lived on your grandparents farm peacefully for a few years, a fling and moonlit romance here and there. Your parents eventually moved in as well, everything fit so well and peacefully. However, in a world of demons, peace is only temporary.

A particularly harsh storm destroyed the farm shed and while your father had no problem rebuilding the shed, some important valuable tools had been destroyed in the process. While everyone else cleaned up the wreckage from the farm, you were sent two towns over to purchase tools and replacement plants. You had a bad feeling before you left, your stomach flipping as you hugged your parents goodbye. In all honesty, you had fun on your small journey, you got to see new things and meet new people in the brief time you were out.

When you returned home it was….quiet.

No one came to greet you, which wasn’t too odd, they might be working in the back. That gut feeling was back again, like something was deeply wrong. You abandoned your cart full of things at the door and upon coming inside you slipped and fell back. Your head was throbbing from the way you hit the wall, when you looked at what you slipped in you screamed.

Blood. A trail of blood.

You got to your feet and followed it, your heart beat was starting to rise to your ears and you couldn’t hear anything else around you. In the sitting room, lay your family, slaughtered. You collapsed at the sight, throwing up on the floor. The room started to spin as you broke, screaming and sobbing. They were so cold when you touched them to close their eyes, hoping they’d rest somewhat easy.

The next few days were a blur and you did everything in your power to distance yourself emotionally from all of it. Others in the town helped out generously, helping you prepare the funerals and bury them. You were inconsolable. You barely ate, slept, or worked on the farm. You did anything else to distract yourself from the emptiness of your home as well as your heart. You were growing hopeless as the garden over grew. The nights were harder than the days, every night you feared the demon would return for you.

But….Would you really fight back?

One night you awoke, the floor creaking in the home. You knew you weren’t alone. You left your room, you aren’t sure why, maybe part of you knew what was awaiting you. You don’t remember much after you walked into your kitchen, you just Remember unimaginable pain alongside darkness. The next day you woke up here. In this house. The nurses informed you that a traveling slayer was investigating your families deaths and arrived at just the right time, which you were thankful for of course….However going home seemed just as haunting as facing the demon again. So you stayed, you proved your worth, you earned a new home. Then you met sanemi.

After opening yourselves bare to each other the conversation shifted to life after the ‘final battle’ and what kind of plans you two had. He had none. Sanemi didn’t want them. He didn’t want to have some reason to come back. He was afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t fight as hard. You told him you’d simply return home. You both ended up taking a brief nap, interrupted by someone knocking on your door. Sanemi got up to answer it, leaving you to roll over into the warm spot he left. You weren’t privy to the conversation, eventually the door shut and he returned to your side.

“I have to go now.” He whispered, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“I’ll see you out.” You smiled and leaned up to give him a brief kiss. Sanemi not being one for chaste moments simply looked away, though you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

You and him walked towards the gate, the tension in the air was choking you both. Once at the gate he gave you a hug so tight he lifted you off the ground a bit and set you back down. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your lips. Your chest was beating so fast, this could be the last chance you see him, you have to tell him! Even if it would ruin what you both had.

“Sanemi I-‘ He put his hand around your mouth, a calm smile on his face.

“I love you, y/n.” His voice was filled with the very same love that you’d been harboring for him and your stomach sunk into the earths core, “I don’t know when I started to love you, but I don’t think I can stop.” Your eyes were blurring and he wouldn’t remove his hand, you just wanted to return his feelings damnit!!

“Even if you don’t feel the same, I don’t want to leave anything undone.” You were starting to struggle now, trying to pry his hand off of your mouth, “Don’t tell me how you feel. It’ll make it harder.” He was clenching his jaw and trying not to cry himself. You both were overflowing with delayed waves of emotion. When he did let go, it was only to kiss him, which you returned tenfold, clinging to him as if you’d die if you let go.

At least you felt you’d die.

When you both parted you wiped at your face with you sleeve, trying to compose yourself. He turned and started to leave and you watched his receding form. Your whole body was on fire, your hands clenched at your side. You hadn’t felt this much in so long, it was because of him! He made you feel the emotions you wanted to lock away for so long. You were breathing deeply, not even fighting the tears, when you turned around you were met with the building owner. She stood, hands on her waist, giving you a look that you’re sure your mother would have given you had she still been alive.

“You’re giving up?” Her tone was challenging.

“H-He doesn’t want to know how I feel! Yo-you don’t get it!” You hiccuped and rubbed your hand on your face in exasperation.

“And what do you want?” Her voice was softening.

“I-What?”

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“I…I want him to know.” Your voice was wavering, as if you were lying to yourself.

She merely pointed behind you, beyond the gate, where he had gone. You looked back at her and you shook your head but she just gestured again. You turned and could still see him, as if he was dragging his feet (He was.). You wanted to tell him everything. Your chest was hurting. You could hardy even breathe anymore but you did your best to take a deep breath and call out his name as loud as you could. That seemed to do it’s job as he stopped and turned. The building owner gave you a small shove, gesturing for you to go.

Now it was your turn to drag your feet, the whole moment felt overwhelming. When you stood in front of him you couldn’t look at him, you would’ve thrown up. Sanemi was staring at you, taking in the way you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to look smaller. If you did look up, you’d see that he merely looked…..Tired. Sanemi was tired. He spent so long fighting that he wasn’t even sure if he could lead a normal life after the battle, especially with….You. His thoughts and feelings were consumed with you and how you’d laugh. He would let himself wonder into thoughts of living with you, starting a family. He would often try to resist these thoughts, it was easier for him to fight without worrying about making it back home to you.

God how he wanted to just touch you one last time.

So he did.

He wrapped his arms around you and it felt so damn good. You always fit so perfectly against him and he could always give you just the littles of squeezes to really enjoy how plush you are.

“I love you too.” You said it so fast he almost didn’t catch it.

“Y/n-“ He started but you reached up, shoving both of your hands over his mouth.

“No! It’s your turn to listen to me!” You weren’t going to let him just die without knowing the truth.

“I-I love you and….” Why was it so hard? “I loved you first. You were the first person who didn’t pity me or treat me li-like some kind of dirty secret.” You took a deep breath, “You helped me feel like a person again, like I was worth something again.” Every single word of adoration that you had for him was suddenly gone, as if you’d forgotten.

“Y-You’re an animal. You’re foul, rude, you lack common human decency-“ He quirked an eyebrow at you, “-but I love all of that. I love that you won’t just sit and take abuse, you’ll fight back! I love the way you tell stories about your missions and I love-“ He put his hand back over your mouth and pried your hands off his mouth fairly easy.

“I get it already! Shut the fuck up for a minute!” You almost didn’t notice his voice cracking at the end. He scratched at his head in agitation. He released your mouth, instead holding both of your hands in his.

“I can’t promise I’ll always love you”

“I know.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good husband or father.”

“I-I know…” Your stomach churns.

“I can’t….promise…that I’ll come back.”

You didn’t respond, just sniffling and nodding.

“If…If I do come back…will you wait?”

“A-Absolutely!” You sound more energetic than you intended. He laughs and his tone is warm, wrapping around you and comforting you. You never want to let him go, but the sun is steadily getting lower and lower and you have to return to the house. So you both pull away from each other. He turns to leave, his hand lingering in yours.

“Have a safe trip, Shinazugawa-San.” You bow, letting things end formally just as they had began.

“Say my name the right way next time.” He comments.

You laugh and turn around, making the solemn walk back to the house. As you pass through the gate you find yourself alone. Your stomach flips again, but this time you’re sure its not your anxiety. Of course you couldn’t tell him you were pregnant. You couldn’t risk him abandoning the final battle altogether. If his teammates died because of his absence there was know way he’d be able to move on life with that regret.

You lay down in bed, having changed into something more comfortable. The sleep you find yourself in is the deepest its been in months, even if your heart is aching for sanemi. No matter what fear you felt before. Now you felt more secure.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x reader insert #sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa x you #reader x sanemi #chubby!reader #chubby!reader x anime

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wildlife4life · 1 year

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Fuck-it Friday

Tagged by: @ebdaydreamer

So this is not a new fic to me because I've been working on it for a bit, but its new to you all. Its the first fic where I've ventured into the A/B/O universe. It is also a season 2 AU after Doug comes back and attacks Chim and tries to take Maddie, but doesn't succeed. Instead Doug gets away, and Maddie and Buck run from L.A. Shannon lives bitches! But the biggest part of this story is Buck finding out he's pregnant while on the run. Surprise! We can all guess who the father is. Anyway, below is the letter that Buck sends to Eddie. But does he receive it???????

Eddie,

I am so sorry that you have to find out this way, but Maddie and I have had to toss our phones twice because of Doug. But I had to tell you. Let me start by saying, we are safe. I wish I could say where but you of all people know I can’t. I really thought we would be home by now, so I could tell you this in person. But Doug is relentless and apparently has higher connections than we originally thought. So again, I’m sorry and I never intended for any of this to happen.

I’m pregnant Eddie and its yours. Maybe it’s hard to believe. I’m still having trouble believing it. But those days we spent together in November…well life came to be.

It took some thinking and a very long, eye-opening lecture from Maddie, but I know how it all happened. I wasn’t lying back then when I told you I was on birth control. What I didn’t mention was the fact that I had started it just a few days prior to my heat. Maddie believes it may have triggered it. We’re not entirely sure. What I did learn is that the birth control I was on is adequate at best for male omegas and the only time we can get pregnant is during a heat. My previous doctor is getting an earful when I get back. That isn’t me saying I don’t want our baby, I do.

This probably the worst time to even be pregnant, but I am so happy and excited. I’m also so so scared. I wish I was with you and the rest of the 118. I wish Maddie and I could come home. I really wish that dog had ripped Doug’s throat out instead of a chunk of his leg. I wish for a lot of things. But my biggest wish, is that you could be here for everything involving the pregnancy. Check-ups, ultrasounds, the little flutters of movement, hell even the vomiting (why is it called morning sickness when it happens ALL DAY). I know how much you regret missing everything with Shannon and Christopher, and I feel awful that I’m putting you through that all over again. But until Doug is no longer a threat, I must stay away to keep our baby safe. Until then Maddie and I are recording everything. I’ll try to send more later, but its risky. I’m sure you’ve already heard; Athena believes Doug’s joined up with an Alpha group that believes in harsh traditionalism and are helping him track us down. Which includes watching our friends and family for any clue of where we are. Hide or burn this letter. Hide the ultra-sound and don’t say a word to anyone until we return. I’ll try to write more and send what I can.

Eddie, I am so sorry. I really am. And I’m not expecting anything from you, but I know you want to be a part of this baby’s life. You are the most amazing father. Christopher is going to be the best big brother. Maybe you wish that this child was between you and Shannon again. I kind of wish that too…

Our baby is completely healthy, and I’ll keep doing my very best to insure they stay that way. It’s the least I can do considering the situation. I hope everyone is doing good. Maddie and I miss you all every day. We really hope Doug is caught soon and we can come home. And we will come back, I really believe that. I hope you and everyone else does too.

Stay safe, give Christopher a hug for me, and again I’m so sorry.

Buck

What do you think? I'm actually kind of excited for this because have I got some twists and turns and angst and big man little baby!

Tagging (not to be pushy!): @911onabc @alyxmastershipper@elvensorceress@bekkachaos

#fuck it friday #911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fics #my wips #a/b/o verse #season 2 au #evan 'buck' buckley #maddie buckley #eddie díaz

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kitchenisking · 1 year

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Seires Fic Rec part 11

DAY 7

Whats up? its the end of the holiday and its time to get back to life! I hope everyones spring is treating them and for the people to have allergies I feel your pain and hope its not to bad! please don't forget to send kudos and love to our authors ❤️

Ritual Love by TobytheWise - (Sterek Valentine Week 2019) - (Rating: G, Words: 500, sterek)

The morning after Stiles performs a ritual to find his soulmate, who thankfully, was always by his side.

To Catch a Predator by Bittah_Wizard - (We Found Love in a Halloween Rave (The Team Jacob Chronicles) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1574, sterek)

Stiles meets the Big Bad Wolf at a party.

Well, mark him down as scared and horny.

Stupid Derek by the_diggler - (Stupid Derek) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1921, sterek)

Stiles should’ve known better. Stupid werewolves with their stupid werewolf hearing. He should’ve known better than to moan Derek’s name, no matter how quietly. But stupid Derek, with his stupid face, and beard, and abs… And okay, Stiles should’ve known better than to leave his bedroom window open while getting off. Because yeah, stupid Derek with his stupid lurking ways...

Psychedelic Coitus by twistedwings - (Text Me Maybe...) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1980, sterek)

"You didn't seem to mind when I was stinking up your sheets. Did you Stiles?" this was Derek, he was naked and laying there and his voice reeked of sex and Stiles wanted more, wanted all of him. So you can understand when all Stiles could do was shake his head and then jump him.

Definitely a Thing by Reia - (A Thing) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4126, sterek)

Scott gets bitten by a werewolf, of all things, and Stiles has a short, fleeting thought of 'Wonder if he has a knot now' before his world goes topsy-turvy and all he can think about is survival.

That's Why He Lets Him In by alisvolatpropiis - (That's Why He Lets Him In) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3210, sterek)

So this is a pretty significant tone shift from my other fics - if you're expecting my typical happy/fluffy/lovey Sterek, you will not find it here!

I wanted to challenge myself to write a darker fic that didn't end in declarations of love - my notes at the top of the page were "ROUGH SEX NO LOVE NO FEELS!!!!". As you will see, I totally failed at the NO FEELS part, but alas. These boys just do something to me. I was also going for 1500 words and this is more than twice that, so really I'm a total failure.

So yes, there are feels, but they're not happy feels.

As mentioned, rough sex, some agro dirty talk, nothing too outrageous.

Still Frames In Your Mind by elisera - (Still Frames In Your Mind) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9530, sterek)

Stiles meets Derek in Prague the morning of his seventeenth birthday. He’s hungover as fuck, and looking like it, too.

Anything for My Boy by kinkilyeverafter - (Sterek Daddy Kink) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2231, sterek)

A stressed out Stiles needs to stop thinking, and his Daddy is more than willing to help him with that.

The next two fics go hand in hand🥰😇

How to Melt an Alpha by GigaCat - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5104, sterek)

Stiles' love life takes an awesome change of direction all because Allison talks Scott into taking some parenting classes.

Of Pregnancy, Pups, and Pack. by GigaCat - (Rating: Mature, Words: 23650, sterek)

Well, the look on Deaton's face isn't exactly what Stiles had hoped for.

This is the official sequel to How to Melt an Alpha.

#stiles x derek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fanfiction #fanfic #seriesficrec #kitcheniskingficrecs

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

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Can you do one where you and hotch are expecting and the reader goes into labour and he is an amazing birthing partner and is so supportive during the labour please.

Ughhh I love this and I just finished writing a birth scene for home so I’m 2 for 2 on baby fics today 🥹 this is only like 700 words but I just finished it and I hope you like it 💕

No warnings except childbirth, all sweet and cute 💕

You hadn't eaten in ten hours when he came back in the room, his hands shoved deeply in his pockets. He waited patiently for the doctor to leave the room, and as sure as he knew the coast was clear, began to unload packs of lifesavers from his pockets.

"Something's wrong with the vending machine, but I got you six packs of lifesavers," he said proudly, opening them up for you and handing you a pack. You were grateful for anything he could get, sucking on the cherry flavored candy, savoring the taste.

"You have no idea how good this is," you sipped your water, making space so he could sit next to you on the bed. The monitor strapped to your stomach was timing contractions, how long they lasted, how strong they were. They'd been steady and painful for hours now, but your water had yet to break on its own. You were in active labor, but after nearly half a day of waiting, you were growing tired and ill.

"I know you're in pain, sweetheart. I wish I could do more to help," his hands massaged at your shoulders from behind you on the bed, helping to distract you some from the pain you were feeling. He had been there for you every step of the way; it had been a long, hot 9 months, but soon enough your sweet baby would be here, and all of the pain would be worth it.

“I’m just so tired, but I can’t sleep,” you’d already tried to get Aaron to get some rest, but he insisted on staying awake with you so he didn’t miss a second of anything.

“I know, baby. Lean back, I’ve got you,” you leaned back against him as your little one tossed and turned inside of you, Aaron’s hands placed firmly on your stomach. It had been like this for nearly ten months now; Aaron had been your biggest comfort and support during your first pregnancy, and you were grateful to have such a selfless partner to take care of you.

You were nervous, scared even to deliver a baby, but your worries had eased exponentially when you got to the hospital and saw what an attentive partner Aaron could be; you already knew he paid special attention to you and the things that made you happy, but you hadn’t realized what a solid comfort he would be to have around. It wasn’t long until the doctor decided to break your water, which meant you’d get to see your baby in a few short hours.

The contractions got worse after your water had broken, causing you to double over in pain every time you had one. Aaron was right there at your side, reminding you to breathe and letting you squeeze his hand as tightly as you needed to distract yourself from the pain.

“Not much longer,” he reminded you, and he was right. In an hour, you were pushing, letting Aaron cheer you on as the tears of frustration streamed down your face. He was quick to wipe them away and tell you that you were doing great, and that he loved you more than anything.

“One more push,” the doctor confirmed, and after what seemed like an eternity, you watched Aaron cut the umbilical cord, starstruck the entire time. You could see the dark head of hair attached to a perfect face, and within seconds Aaron was handing her to you, and telling you that she was, in fact, a girl.

“Beautiful just like her mama,” you didn’t miss the tears of joy on his face as he placed her in your arms, all of the love in the world radiating from his sweet smile as he sat down next to you so he could admire her with you.

“We did it,” you said proudly, but he shook his head before kissing you on the cheek.

“You did all the hard work, sweetheart. You did it.”

Ugh this was so much fun to write, Hotch in the delivery room is a thought that makes me smile so big 🥹 thank you so much for the request 💕

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner fluff

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makahimetenshi · 10 months

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Follow me inside the wastelands - Chapter 20 -Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor Fanfic

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14242575/20/Follow-me-inside-the-wastelands

Alright people we are getting into the final stage…not final chapters because I kinda counted how much they will be and I expect ten or more…

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and coments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive coments of wanting to know what happends next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

-Arthur honey could you leave me my bathrobe and some underwear in the bathroom?

Oh gosh she was calling him honey.

She called her husband honey too.

His now pregnant woman taking a hot shower in his quarters…they were facing some issues right now…well wanting an abortion from one side and the other no wasn’t exactly a minor problem but…The situation would make him smile silly if it wasn’t for that detail.

He left the clothes there and received at the front door the donuts she asked and…the already prepared set of dosis of addictol. Since the man that bring the food was already there he asked for some Mierluks eggs omelet for dinner time, people on Croup Manor were eating them and say they were rich in protein, a total boots of energy to get in action so it was a good idea for her diet. If he didn’t say a thing maybe Nora wont throw up.

What if Cade was right and at some point of the pregnancy her cravings and taste changes and become…normal to wastelands standars? Like, she being able to eat stingwing filet for example? Or wild mutfruit? That would make things so much easier for both and restore her health so much…she needs to change her habits!

Truth is that he had plans to only continue as a family, the elder, the sentinel, and their baby, nothing less than that. He was mentally prepared for all the challenges a pregnancy could put in his way…but nothing less than this. He would not make accommodations this time.

Arthur wished for this to really go well.

She came out from the shower and throw in bed looking at the ceiling, her body falling like a bag.

-Where have you been before…coming for the first test? –he dare to ask, pretending he was working, reality is that he cannot focus at all since he read first Cade inform- 3 weeks passed since Sanctuary to that date.

-Settlement work, in fact I was around the airport some days but I was undercover –she had a new haircut, yes.

-And this last three?

-Far Harbor, until Nick came to lecture me –apparently Nora had the control of a boat to go whenever she wanted out of the land, and that scared the man a lot- I came because I know how much you sacrificed by doing that, not because of Nick smartass…

-I guess hell send me the bill

-Can we talk Arthur? –he nodded, and she patted on bed, he take a second before getting up from the chair and sitting up in the bed, she went up on her knees to be at his height and try to cup his cheeks with her hands…but he moved the head off.

-Im really hurt with what you did –she closed the her eyes and sighted, that really make the man annyoyed- all things: lie me about coming back soon, coming to the Prydwen just for the testing and leave…you could even wait to dine together and then leave if you wanted smartass! And then hide, from me, for weeks, like it wasn’t something important to tell me specifically

-I was looking for a solution…they all really scare me –oh the nerve she was going to make him burst in anger.

-And if you find one were you going to take it and that’s all? Without telling me? I would find sooner or later in the brotherhood files that at some point you were pregnant! –this was even worse than before!

-That’s why I asked for privacy…I know you have a lot of questions about the institute –it didn’t matter much now since they were gone but it was good to know…the level of two…three agent that Nora was…

-Yeah…

She fall on bed, looking at the ceiling, patting at her side for him to lay at his side, he did but when she wanted to grab his hand, he didn allow it, placing both in his chest.

-When I meet Shaun again he offers me as an apology a room…some amenities to be around in the institute, you know what I did first? A hot shower and a nap on a clean bed and sheets –she was looking at the ceiling, and he look at her lips as she talked- that’s right, I take all my armor, my guns and things away for a hot shower and a clean bed. I completely expose myself in the enemy’s territory for it, I just forget when that possibilities appear in front of me.

-Or maybe it was that you worked too hard that days and your mind slip at the chance of getting a good rest.

-Nono, I completely surrender myself to that clean mattress

-Perphaps it was the fact that your beloved and lost son made you that gift and you felt comfortable enough to forget?

-Nope, I mean it. I just surrender. And then I walk around the institute and found…plants, like green plants, people well dressed in clothes without holes, the smell of clean, animals, and fresh air oh oh oh hear this out…edible food! Non radiated! Fresh! –she went up in her elbows- im gonna tell you a secret…are you ready? –he nodded- I have a deposit of only institute food, crazy right? –the mans face deformed and look at her with horror- like they come in this white boxes with the institute logo and they only have like…two years maybe, they come in this plates but I swear to you the ingredients are still fresh

-Nora! –he went up in his elbows also- is that what you normally eat!? I never see you with those!

-Of course not, I eat them in privacy, with the institute symbol is a bit risky to do it but…yes…when im alone I take from that boxes as breakfast, lunch, and dinner…pre-war food is hard too find, so I make sure to save a goooooood stock of food for a lot of time, for now my deposit is doing good –how many more deposits Nora had around the Commonwealth? One for drugs, one for caps, one for food…an entire vault…-is actually good for preserved boxed food, I can eat it just fine.

-But your glucose, cholesterol, weight, vitamins and all are so low…

-Well I cant pack a lot of boxes with me all the time so yeah, there’s a lot of days I don’t eat, that’s true, once im out in the field there’s no more options to me than keep looting good old canes. I do what I can

Again, he felt bad.

-So he offers you to stay with the institute…

-Yeah, because I can fill the gaps I left by killing Shauns kidnapper, Kellog, who was their useful worker on the field…Not because I was his mom…-the little joy he had in her voice left, just to be heard all plain and…sad- it sorta surprised me…and fill me with pride at the same time…that my son became a super scientist, the top of the top, the leader of an entire circle of super smart people but then he said that he was unable to think in me and have feelings as his mom…because how life turned for him- it was like being rejected- he was sorry for being unable to feel the right way about me, his mom, who he saw looking under every rock of the Commonwealth for him for an entire year –she was dead talking about this subject, no feeling, no emotion, as she said before, she cried all what she had to cry- I felt so…relieved that my boy turned into a mature man so conscious about the situation, someone who can handle emotions so carefully to be respectful but I also felt like I wasn’t important, and this whole journey was for nothing…I spend that days just sleeping in that clean bed wandering what happened to my life…

-I remember that, I took you a lot of days to come back from the institute.

-It didn’t took me, I stay there because I wanted to stay over, I was wandering if…stay with my son or come back with all the people that were counting on me…god I try so much to stay around him, to catch on some time and…Shaun couldn’t get me, I didn’t care he was almost double my age by aging naturally, he was still my son and I loved him, he used my skills and will, he would apologize, he understanded my point but…never actually cared enough, it wasn’t his business, im so sorry for how life turned to be for you mom I don’t know how to make you feel better…by that time I was silly and I think he was trying for our good

-You tried to connect with the leader of the institute knowing everything he was doing and you dare to say you are not going to be a good mother –the way he said that make the woman uncomfortable

-That’s the thing Arthur, after everything I been through i…somehow I choose to end up with nothing, I let him die, then I turn him into pieces…-after saying that she took a long pause-then I destroyed the place were he lived and work of his life, his legacy…i…I did…-this time, he put down one of his hands, and she take it- I did something awful, I gave up on his memory, because of all the terrible things he did, but I still gave up on my son, he did awful because I wasn’t there for him and I gave up

-I also have someone I have to cry without a grave or a spot for it –Nora turned her head to look at him- Sentinel Sarah Lyons, my first love

-Missing in action if I read correctly -she babble.

-That doesn’t mean I expect the same to happen again

-Its not like I expect…but I have zero control in every aspect of my life in the wastelands and…crazy things happen –he can’t control the present and he will not control the future for her to stop panicking and hating things, its just not going to happened, at some points she is going to learn to surrender and accept things.

-There’s more of this you are telling me?

-Yes –now he grabbed her hand, pressing with the tip of his finger inside her palm

-You're going to stay around to keep telling me more about this or are you gonna disappear again? –Nora bite her tongue and hear a knock on the door.

The man raises up and sat on the bed, how many time they spend chatting? Apparently it was dinner time now so I guess a lot.

By night, the elder throw some blankets and pillows at the floor next to the bed, he wasn’t going to share the bed, in fact he preferred to not sleep at all, he wanted to keep an eye on her. It break his heart that this was the actual situation.

-Arthur for fucks sake come to bed –he wasn’t going, if he was too comfortable on bed he may fall asleep.

-You are not thrust worthy –he just simply said, annoyed, and he was in his right to be.

-Don’t be ridiculous, if you don’t want me around ill just go to my quarters

-You insisted in coming here

-I know you already lock the door, come on im not going to jump off the window! –that wasn’t an actual security measure, since Nora can open locks so easily

-Im fine here

-This are your quarters, this is your bed, I should sleep on the floor!

-Im mad at you Nora! –he simply screamed, making her freeze for a bit, not expecting that at all. It was rare from him to lose his cool- you are on your right to be in pain, but im in my right to be annoyed!

This was at least…unexpected…she went up sitting on bed and crawled to the other side, were he was, she didn’t went down or anything, but put an arm down in case he wanted to take her hand from the ground.

-Im sorry –she said paying attention to his movements.

-You abandoned me. Twice –the pain in his voice make her blink, open wide her eyes.

-No, I didn’t give up on you –she didn’t want him to feel like that, it wasn’t her intention- I was trying to find a solution…

Now, he did move his head to look at her for a moment but quickly went back to his pillow. Hiding in the softness

-There’s no solution were the three of us aren’t together, if its not the case, then is no solution.

She said nothing, but did that night sleep on his bed. He watched her sleep, waking up between shorts periods to keep on eye. Arthur wasn’t going to be tricked again.

In the morning, he saw her waking up and getting off bed to go to the bathroom, and then go to prepare some tea for both, there was still some donuts and bread around for breakfast, so shell eat that.

-I want to pick up something from my quarters –she said giving the man a hot cup of tea, he took it, smelling before…just in case just in case…

-Ill find someone to escort you there…-the woman stared at him in silence with a killing gaze.

-Arthur its my quarters

-And? You lost all my trust to be around on your own–she grunted, buy say nothing

-Okay

She did as the man…allow her, have the permit to walk and do in the Prydwen but escorted by 4 soldiers, there was so much people they didn’t fit in the narrow hallways of the zeppelin. It wasn’t like they can take her down, he surely didn’t believe that, they were mostly around to set an alarm if anyone weird happens. In the end she just pick some clothes and holotapes…

Coming back at Arthur quarters she found him taking a nap on bed, of course, since he didn’t sleep in the hole night…it wasn’t a whim, she understand. He take the chance of the soldiers watching her during the day to sleep a bit after all he wasn’t…all robot…

Nora change to a laundered pink dress and sat on his personal desk to use the terminal, she could…send some mails, change some people perspective, look into his files…but instead, she put a holotape and watch a movie.

What the hell she was doing with her life? She felt bad horribly bad to hurt the man like that, but she also knew she was doing the right thing…for her at least…she didn’t wish to keep on this pregnancy at all…but also didn’t want him to hate her

She did in fact found a solution before, but the man found about it first and now it was too late, he was too attached.

Her cheeks blushed at the memory of his words…he say he loved her. And she did in fact, love him back. Letting the fear away to make space for that feelings to grow more and more but now there was no room for their love to bloom.

What can she expect? Of course Arthur would want to have it, he is at the top of the word, he thinks he has the best of the best to offer and provide, there’s absolutely no problem in having a son together, in fact, it was so strange this was his first…I mean he is young…but also young enough! But she did have a problem. A really deep one anybody can’t just ignore or let pass like…killing her first son is bad enough but the fact that she blasted his only memory left, like better vanish in the history than staying in this land even as a corpse...made her stomach sick.

Sometimes, she missed Shaun, it was unvenliable how her dead son haunts her from the back of her thoughts. It was so scary, like the times she did work against the institute interests and she feared coming back to the CIT ruins to not be lectured by…her son of 60 years old who released her like some kind of experiment and nothing more, how much she would be wandering around in the savage Commonwealth.

The movie keep moving forward but her eyes weren’t precisely in the screen, she was lost in her thoughts, memories and ideas. Noise, there was noise on her mind. The dark thoughts always haunt her from the back to her neck until hanging her throat, taking her breath away. Sometimes she gets so overwhelmed in her thoughts she feel like she could die…

-Nora! –something brute and harsh wake her up from her wreck train of thoughts, the man was shaking her shoulders like crazy. Nora shake her head and then look at him, from heads to toes, took a few seconds to breath before saying anything, trying to open her mouth several times in the process and just…talk

-What? –she can only say, Arthur look at her nervous inspecting all her expressions in every corner of her face.

-Are you alright!? –Nora look at the screen and the credits were already moving up in the black and white motion.

-I was…watching an old movie…-she babble low, her breath was calm and but her body stiff as a rock to move- It was Gone with the wind it’s a four hours movie how the hell im on the credits!? –she look at him and then again at the screen- did I fall asleep!?

-I wake up five minutes ago, stare at you and when I didn’t see you moving or even blinking it scared the shit out of me

-Oh –she just said, now blinking repeatedly

-Are you okay? –again, he asked, and take a sit next to her, still watching her movements.

-Yeayeayeayeah I was just…thinking…some stuff –that was strange but since she didn’t have any physical “consequence” like trembling or red eyes well maybe it was that, she get lost in her thoughts and that’s all- wanna watch the movie with me?

-Sure –he said, watching her as she take the holotape again and put it on the terminal-did you do this all day?

-I guess so, I actually wanted to finish this movie and see a musical later but I guess I didn’t pay much attention –her body was hard as a rock after staying in the same position for almost four hours, her muscles and joints hurt!

-What’s a musical?

-A story told through songs and dances, very few dialogues

-That sounds…difficult to understand and follow

-Sometimes they are, but I wanted to see people dance again, I see people sing because it’s a very human thing to do but…not dance, its like…humans forgot how to do it naturally.

-I think I managed pretty well at Sanctuary

-You had a good guide, just admit it –she laughed a bit and he smiled, only smiled.

They watch the movie in silence, this time she was actually paying attention, could see that in her eyes, she wasn’t just awake and that’s all, her mind and focus was on the terminal. It was a movie too old for Arthur to appreciate, more than historical drama it looks like sci fiction, that’s how long long ago it looks for him, apparently the elder of the brotherhood of steel doesn’t know or at least care much about U.S history from much much before the bombs dropped.

At the two hours he already wanted to die of boredom, maybe it wasn’t his type of movie after all, the protagonist lady was a little bitch…look a lot like Nora, it wasn’t like her personality at all but oh boy the hairstyles and make up did really make them look similar. Not even dreaming he imagined Nora in dresses like that ones, they weren’t a possibility, not even using the 100% of his brain power but oh boy wont she look…pretty…pretty that was the word because the protagonist was a very young lady who apparently hasn’t matured enough…or was an spoiled brat to do it so…

He sighted and lay his back on the chair, then, some words escaped from his lips.

-How did you figured out you could be pregnant? Three weeks its not a lot of time –if now their baby was six weeks that mean it was conceived on Sanctuary…at least that week.

-I was watching on my period very carefully. When it was two weeks late I came back with Cade for the test –it was too soon for her to have symptoms yet so the only thing that could give her a little idea…was time.

-Well I said to you they were never much trustworthy…-since forever, this was a possibility, he didn’t expect it so soon to happened but…he was glad it happened with her specifically-Not before and not now…

Silence, they stay in silence with the movie still running until she take a big breath and speak.

-Arthur…-he hummed to let her know he heard- I love you

He says nothing, just grab her hand even if they weren’t sitt next to each other, keeping distances but still watching the movie together.

#fallout 4 #sole survivor #arthur maxson #elder maxson #makahimefanfic

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imreallyloveleee · 5 years

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Congrats! I love your fics! My prompt is person A walks in on person B doing x. It can be angsty, fluffy, sexy, whatever you feel like!

Betty flushes the toilet, zips up her jeans, and stares in the mirror as she tries to remember the breathing exercise her therapist taught her to use when she’s feeling overwhelmed. Five seconds in, seven seconds out…or is it the other way around…?

It’s pointless, she decides. No amount of oxygen is going to make this any easier.

She lets her eyes rake slowly over her reflection as she stands before the mirror, the timer on her phone ticking away in silence. She looks so young, younger than 26; still haven’t lost that baby fat, hm, her mother had remarked a few months ago at Christmastime.

A year from now, would anyone even believe Betty if she told them she was a mother?

She might not be. She probably won’t be: not if the test says negative, and not if the test says positive. She can’t have a baby right now, with her defense of her master’s thesis just months away, and then the trip to Paris they’ve been planning for years, and a job search after that, and –

They can’t have a baby right now.

But what if Jug doesn’t feel the same way? What if he wants it? They’re young, but not shockingly so; they’re stable. The thought makes her dizzy. She sits on the toilet lid and runs a hand over the back of her neck. Her fingers come away damp.

And then, as though her mind itself had summoned him, Jughead walks into the bathroom.

“Shit, sorry –” He turns abruptly to leave, then seems to register that she’s not actually using the toilet as anything other than a seat. “You okay in here?”

Betty feels her face grow hot. “Um.” She falters, unable to summon the words, but he follows her gaze to the plastic stick sitting on the sink. She can tell the exact moment that his brain pieces together what it all means.

“Fuck,” he says. “How much time?”

Betty looks at her phone. “Three minutes.”

And then he bolts.

“Jughead,” she calls. He doesn’t answer, and she doesn’t move to follow him. She’s immobile, fused to this seat for the next two minute and twenty seconds. She doesn’t know what she wants. For this miserable wait to be over, mostly.

From the bedroom down the hall she hears the slide of a drawer, then a thud as it shuts. The apartment’s creaky wooden floorboards tell her that Jughead is returning, and fast. He slips through the doorway again, this time with a little black box clutched in his hands.

Breathless, Jughead drops to both knees before her.

Betty’s hands fly to her mouth. “Oh, my god.”

“Betty –”

She shakes her head. “Jug –”

“Wait. Just – I was going to wait for Paris, but – I need you to know that, that I want this no matter what.” Jughead swallows. His hands are shaking. “Marry me? Will you?”

“Jughead, you can’t do this now,” she wails, the tears she’s been holding back finally leaking down her cheeks.

He looks stricken. “But –”

The phone beeps. Betty slaps her hand onto the counter, not even bothering to mute the timer, and flips the stick over: Negative.

All of the tension drains from her body. She shows him; Jughead sits back on his heels, sucking in a deep breath. She drops the test in the trash can, and then brushes past him and strides down the hallway until she reaches their bedroom, where she collapses onto the bed, burying her face in her pillow.

A few minutes pass before he joins her, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the mattress. “Can we talk?”

Betty hesitates, then rolls onto her side so she can see him. “You just proposed to me while I was on a toilet waiting to find out if I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.”

She can’t help the tiny smile that creeps onto her face – it’s equally amazing and annoying how he does that, without fail, every time.

Jughead scoots back on the bed and lays beside her, face to face. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her neck, his touch so gentle it almost tickles. “I’ve been planning to propose to you on our trip,” he says. “And if you were pregnant, I didn’t want you to think that was the reason why.”

“I would never think that.”

“I know.” Jughead lets out a deep sigh. “I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t expect me to make a decision like that when I’m sitting there waiting for life-altering news.”

“I know,” he repeats, quieter this time.

Betty rests her hand over his cheek, mirroring his on her own. “It’s just a lot,” she whispers.

His thumb strokes her jawline slowly. “How long did you think you might be?”

“Only a couple days.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m…I don’t even know why I thought it. I’m sure it’s just stress.”

Jughead leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Can I help?”

Betty sighs. “I don’t know. It’s not as simple as like, having you feed the cat this week, or whatever.” She scrunches up her mouth, almost afraid to ask what she knows she has to. “Did I ruin your proposal?”

“Betts, no.” He kisses her mouth this time, brief but firm. “Maybe the surprise element, but…who cares.”

She bites her lower lip. “Do it at a weird time. In the middle of lunch, or while we’re on one of those big, tacky tour buses.”

“We are not going on one of those tour buses,” Jughead laughs. “I refuse.”

Betty giggles and shuffles closer, nudging her head beneath his chin. His hand slips beneath her shirt, running up her back, fingers toying lightly with the strap of her bra.

“You really wanna do it?” he murmurs, so soft she can barely hear him. “Marry me?”

She presses her nose to his chest, breathes in deep. “I do,” she tells him, “I do.”

#bughead #bughead fic #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #i did not expect to write pregnancy scare fic...but here we are!#also this is the second time i have written a vignette in which jughead proposes to betty in a bathroom #in case you're wondering: i was not proposed to in a bathroom #i just really love the idea of jughead's proposal going totally awry for some reason?#anyway i hope you like this anon!#anon #fic #loveleee takes fic prompts

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

Get with me

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; in which you get two sets of news and a happy ending

warnings; mentions of cheating, pregnancy scares, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (im sorry lmao), praise

pt 2 of ysbuwybf

a/n; patting myself on the back for not bailing on fic requests lmaoo anyways yall were so outa pocket with ideas, all i wanna say is that i am respecting our sweet prince anderson and letting him down gently (i’m writing this before the fic so i could completely switch it up) see end notes for final thoughts :)

hope you enjoy!

*also pls don’t cheat its so icky and a horrible thing to do

***

If your suspicions were correct you were fucked. Part of you would be ecstatic no doubt about it. But if things were true then you were utterly surly fucked.

Your period was late.

Which meant either one; your birth control was acting up or two; you were pregnant.

However being pregnant wasn’t a bad thing, far from it. The bad thing was that there were two candidates in the running to be the father. Your boyfriend, Agent Anderson who was nothing but a sweetheart even though he was about as exciting as a wet paper bag.

Or Dr.Spencer Reid. Your best friend who you had also been sleeping with outside of your relationship. The best man you’d ever known who was also aching to become a father some day.

For a week you had been avoiding both of them in the office. Unfortunately for you there were no cases. While yes a lack of serial killing was always a plus it also meant you were stuck in the same building as them for give or take eight hours a day.

For days on end you stuck in your earbuds and kept your head down while doing paperwork trying to ignore both sets of eyes which would look over to you every once in a while.

Were you even pregnant, was the biggest question. So you had decided that it was time to get your shit together. At lunch on Monday you had made a quick doctors appointment and went on your way. The little old nurse had told you she would call you in a few days with results.

In that time you had gone over every possible scenario or possibility. Who would you tell first? How would you even bring it up? Would Anderson hate you for cheating? Would Spencer be upset that the baby isn’t his? It would be like another JJ situation for him.

The thoughts plagued your mind throughout the week and the more you thought about it the more you thought about who you would have preferred to be the father of your child. Which then led to the guilt of picking and the realization that you in fact would have to break up with Anderson.

If the child did end up being his you would have to make it work, however you knew it was time to come clean and apologize for going behind his back. He deserved to know the truth.

Deep in your thoughts you barley heard your phone ringing. It was now Friday and you weren’t expecting any other calls besides the one from your doctor. You looked around and made sure no one was paying attention before you clicked the green button.

“Hello?”

You heard the voice of the nurse on the line, she sounded almost sad, “Hello am I speaking with Y/n Y/l/n?”

“Yeah this is her,” you said dryly. Your nerves were eating at you.

“Oh sweetie I’m calling with the results of your test. It turns out that you are not pregnant at this time honey.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you held in. It felt as is a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“Oh, um thank you for informing me,” you said looking down at your nails.

“Of course. If you have anymore questions you can call back at this number or come in and set up another appointment. Have a good rest of your day.”

With that the line cut off and you fell back into your chair. Your hand subtly moved onto your stomach. Huh. You didn’t think that would be as hard to hear.

“Y/n?” a voice called from behind you.

“Oh hey Andy. Whats up?” you said putting a smile on your face.

He combed a hand through his hair before he sat at the corner of your desk, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I think it’s best if I say it clearly and honestly.”

Your brows furrowed. Oh shit did he already know? You had to stay calm.

“Yeah go ahead.”

“I think we should break up. It’s not you, I think we’re just missing a spark. At first it was fun but I don’t think this is gonna work anymore.”

Pot meet kettle, you thought.

“Plus I think Charlotte from Cyber Crimes is into me so yeah,” he trailed off.

You bit your lip to try and hide the laugh you wanted to let out. This was an unseen turn of events. “Yeah I get it. But hey no hard feelings. Go for it with Lotte, she’s a total sweetheart.”

“Thanks Y/n/n,” he said leaning down to give you half hug then gingerly turned and walked away.

Behind you Spencer couldn’t help but listen to the whole interaction. Once he saw Anderson reach the elevator he got up and made his way over to your desk.

You looked up and saw the small smile on his face, “Is it party at Y/n’s desk today?” you asked causing him to giggle.

“I think the news I just heard calls for celebration in the best way we know don’t you think,” he said looking around the bullpen nodding his head towards the hallway which was home to the spacious supply closet.

You looked around and made sure no one was looking. Emily and JJ were gone in Garcia’s lair. Derek was gone visiting his mom and the dads of the BAU were in a meeting.

“Lead the way doctor,” you said standing getting up form your chair.

Once in the closet Spencer wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He sighed at the taste of your cherry chapstick. You put your hands on his face pulling him down but while you were savoring the taste of his lips your mind couldn’t help but go back.

You could have been a mom. Spencer felt your lips slow down instead of returning the passion and stepped away.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said looking up at him.

He tried to hide the look of worry on his features but you could see right through him as he nodded for you to continue.

“Well earlier this week I uh was supposed to start my period but I didn’t,”

“Y/n-” he tried to cut you off but you put your hand up for him to let you finish.

“I went to the doctors and got a test done. Before Anderson came over I got the call and I’m not. Which is good right? It saved everyone a world of hurt and drama. I don’t know I just thought you should know.”

“Did you wanna be?”

“What?”

“Pregnant,” he said gripping your hips and pulling you closer.

You felt your cheeks get hot at what he was insinuating, “Well- I- yeah. I mean yeah, yes.”

With that he brought his lips back down to yours. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. One of his hands slid to the back of your skirt and pulled down the zipper. You let it slide down your legs and stepped out of it.

You sat on the table in the room, pushing off the bottles of cleaner. Spencer stepped into the space between your legs, his fingers reaching for your panties and tugging them down your legs.

“I can’t believe I get this tight little pussy all to myself now,” he said biting marks onto your neck. You mewled tilting your head to the side and pulling on his tie.

“Spencer please. I need you so bad,” you whined out.

He stepped away and hastily started on undoing his pants, “What do you want baby? Is it for me to fuck you? Or is that not enough? Do you need me to fill you up with my cum? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You moaned at his lewd words and quickly nodded your head. Your hand flew down to your pussy, you were practically dripping onto the table and he had barley touched you.

“Please doctor I need you so bad.”

Spencer quickly stepped into the space again and took both of your hands in one of his large ones, “I own this pussy. I always have, you don’t get to touch without my permission,” he gritted out.

With his free hand he tugged on his cock before aligning it with your leaking slit. The both of you sighed as he pushed in inch by inch. Your head feel back with your mouth open in a perfect O shape.

After a second of letting you adjust Spencer started with rough thrusts. You could feel your hair start sticking on your forehead from the heat of the room. Spencer’s lips were inches from yours, sharing the same breath.

“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. Let everyone here know you’re mine.”

All you could do was nod and moan in approval. His grip on you was deadly but it was just adding onto the immense pleasure you were feeling. The way he was repeatedly hitting your gpot had your vision blurry with stars. You could also feel him pulsing inside you knowing he was close to his peak.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart. So perfect around my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, “I want you to cum in me Spence. I need to feel it,” you mewled into his lips.

This motivated him to start drilling into you. At this point you were panting, aching to feel the sweet release. His hand dipped down to rub on your clit, he groaned at the slippery mess where you both met.

“Oh god Spence!”

A high pitched moan escaped your lips as he added on the extra pleasure. Soon enough you were squeeing around him, ready to milk him for all he was worth.

“That’s it baby. Keep doing that. I’m gonna stuff you with my cum y/n/n fuck,” he said drawing out the last syllable as he exploded inside you.

He stayed inside as you both caught your breathes, slowly thrusting trying to fill you to the brim.

He pulled out and looked for a roll of paper towels for you to clean up. Once that was done you helped each other tame your hair and outfits as you always did, with quiet and loving gazes.

“Do you think that one did the job?” you said with a smirk.

“Well statistically the pill contraceptive has a 7% failure rate so with my calculations there is a chance,” he said while smoothing down your hair.

“Thanks genius,” you said lightly punching his arm, “Lets get out of here. Together.”

“Together,” he said slinging an arm around your shoulders.

a/n; so guys what do we think. im not gonna lie i kinda hate it but i think it was a good ending for everyone. kinda feel bad anderson didn’t get the whole truth but the cheating is OVER! also what did we think of what pregnancy scare?? let me know lovies!!!

#Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #chellewrites

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Streetdogs and Chest Compressions // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Reader reconnected with her estranged younger brother in the cruelest of ways as the 118 is called the scene of three young men suffering after eating streetdogs. Unfortunately, this is how Buck meets the future brother in law he had no clue even existed.

Warnings: Swearing, family problems (aka estranged), withholding personal information, angst, medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 4.7k

A/N: This fic is a crossover between Julie and the Phantoms and 9-1-1 in which Luke, Reggie and Alex eat the streetdogs in modern times. Don’t worry, someone still dies. Reader’s nickname is Spitfire

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

It seemed Los Angeles was taking pity on the 118 with not even a single fire to be put out or medical needed. It was slow. Painfully slow, and you weren't even halfway through the twenty-four-hour shift. Hen and Chimney had taken the circular table for a card game, Bobby was reading a new cookbook. Eddie's Abuela had brought Christopher to the firehouse for his online schooling, the Diaz's wifi was malfunctioning. Buck and you had snuck off the bunk room to catch some sleep.

"Lazy movie day?" Buck asked with his arms tightly wound around your hips. Your form almost rested entirely on his front due to the narrow bunk.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You replied to the content man underneath you. You could only hum as he shifted to kiss the top of your head, "Now shh. I want to slee-"

The bell sounded before you could even finish your sentence, "And what I didn't want to happen just had to spite me."

Buck and you hurried to quickly pull on your turnout gear before hopping into the respective seats you used. Eddie across from you, Buck driving with Bobby in the Captain seat. Hen and Chimney in the ambulance tailing you.

"We have three males in their late teens. Ate hotdogs in an alley before collapsing in the process." Bobby informed his team all the while he watched the road, "One is profusely puking, one's unconscious, and the last one is stable."

"Thinking it's food poisoning? That sudden?" Buck inquired with a swift glance from his position of driving. Bobby shrugged in response just as Buck eased the fire truck to a half near a crowded alley.

You were the first one out of the firetruck with your medical bag and halfway to the alley before the team could get out.

"Make some room!" You shouted among the heavily populated area, curious about the medical emergency.

Everything slowed down as you pushed between the last two people into something you called your worst nightmare. Three teenage individuals settled on their sides in unconscious states had been a fixture in your youth. Your eyes stayed pinned on the prone figure of your little brother.

It was like being underwater. Nothing could be heard, and it felt like you were in the process of drowning. It was the first time seeing Luke since you stormed out of your family home back when you were eighteen years old.

It was the same old unchanging story playing for months now with only the new addition of an audience. It was the middle of a blistering summer in Los Angeles, but it was the most heated in the Patterson household. You'd been at the movies with your best friends while your mother, Emily, was putting your laundry away.

Emily's hand had bumped your dresser by accident in her process of closing your socks drawer. The Patterson matriarch and her husband would never invade their children's rooms, but her keen eye had noticed the pamphlet; nothing serious like teen pregnancy but it was surprising.

Emily was holding a recruitment pamphlet for the Los Angeles Fire Department marked with your handwriting. Her heart dropped in sync with the front door slamming shut.

"I'm home!" You called out from the entrance. You didn't hear as your mother wandered into the open space. Her eyes flaring in both anger and fear; when a person is scared, they lash out.

That's what Emily did.

"What is this?"

Your eyes found the item in her hand that genuinely made your blood freeze in your veins. This was not how you'd wanted her to find out about your career decision.

"I'm applying. I graduated high school, and hopefully, I'll be train-"

"Like hell, you will! You're going to college and getting a real job! This won't take you anywhere Y/N Y/M/N Patterson!" Emily snapped just as Mitch came through the back door with your ten-year-old brother Luke.

"What's going on?" Mitch questioned as soon as he felt the tension between mother and daughter. Luke was quiet amongst the adults speaking.

"Your daughter isn't going to college. She's going to be a firefighter.

"Spitfire?"

A smooth hand startled you with the clap on your shoulder and Hen looking at you, "Are you okay?"

"I-" You shakily attempted to speak but alas had to be gently settled on the ground before you keeled over and hurt yourself. Your uniform, long sleeves this time, felt constricting as the guilt nearly swallowed you whole.

"Hey, Cap? I think I know why those three are like that." Buck called out from a sketchy grill by an even sketchier condiments table. The table being a rusted Oldsmobile manned by a greasy dude and his girl.

Even from a distance, you could smell the chemicals wafting off the unsanitary set up that would put a health inspector in a casket.

"One's waking up!" Chimney spoke from the slump of pink and denim fabric. A curtain of blonde '90s style hair mussed on his head.

"Look, Y/N, I need you to dig deep to help these three boys. They have long lives ahead of them and need our A-game." Hen spoke with her hands, already checking one of the teens for broken bones.

Your eyes closed with a deep breath before you moved towards the boy on the other side. Eddie shifted to allow you room to check him over.

"Strong pulse. Breathing is good." You clinically informed your team, "Eddie can-"

"What happened?" The gruff voice spoke from behind you. As expected, Alex's voice had deepened in the years you'd gone without seeing Luke or his friends.

"You got this one?" You asked Eddie without waiting for a response; you were by Chim's side with a soft smile. Alex's eyes widened momentarily, "Hey Alex."

"Y/N?" Alex nearly gasped in shock. His shock seemed contagious as your entire team from the 118 caught it, "What's going on?"

"You ate some bad hotdogs and needed our help. We're gonna get you to the hospital. I'm worried you ingested battery acid." You spoke, understanding that Alex would prefer details instead of the lack thereof. Even from an early age, he'd been anxious.

"Oh. Are the guys okay?" Alex softly asked with his eye blinking as a strand of his blonde hair caught in his eyelashes. You slowly nodded in response without really knowing the status of Reggie and Luke.

"Eddie, Buck, can you get him loaded in the ambulance?" You called over your shoulder once you'd finished your thorough examination of Alex. The sound of boots on the hard ground appeared before they appeared.

Eddie and Buck swiftly loaded him on a gurney, but Alex's eyes widened, "Why are there two hot guys touching me? Oh my god. Do you see the cute guys too?"

You snickered as Alex's failed attempt at a stage whisper, "Yes. Alex."

"I've been blessed as a gay man." Alex breathed with a cute little grin plastered on his face, "Maybe I should eat more streetdogs-"

"NO!" Eddie, Buck, and you collectively shouted in response to Alex's delirious comment. He was loaded into the ambulance beside Reggie's gurney.

"I'm gonna jump in with the other guy in the ambulance." You quickly informed your boyfriend and Eddie. Each shared a look before Eddie slammed his fist on the back of this ambulance. It rolled away, and you jogged to the one Hen was driving.

Buck was there giving you a hand into the back of the ambulance with one of the other paramedics. You couldn't meet his eye when you were staring at the unconscious but thankfully alive body of your little brother. Your eyes couldn't be pulled away even as the ambulance started driving away.

Buck momentarily stared after the leaving vehicle until it turned a corner leaving him with his crew and questions. Eddie kept by Buck's side on the return to the firetruck in unusual silence. It wasn't often that Buck was quiet.

"What do you think that was about?" Eddie inquired as the truck pulled onto the street to follow the ambulances to the hospital, "Y/N knew the conscious one-"

"-and the one in the ambulance she jumped in. Kept staring at him like he'd disappear out of her sight." Buck supplied, staring out the window to the passing buildings. His blue eyes are unable to focus on the looks Bobby was sending.

Bobby attempted to bring Buck into a conversation, but each attempt was a failure. Neither Bobby nor Eddie knew how to make him feel better or why he was feeling off.

Whereas you kept a hawk-eye on your brother's stats the entirety of the drive. The ambulance had only just entered the parking lot when his stats dropped. A long beep sounded, alerting you that Luke's heart had stopped.

"Goddamnit." You swore as you started leaning over Luke to start compressions. In order to continue compressions, you clambered into the gurney as the back doors opened.

"Hold compressions!" Eddie exclaimed once, seeing the situation, "No pulse."

You continued even as the gurney entered the hospital, and a doctor was there, "We got it."

You did as the doctor had subtly implied by climbing off the gurney, leaving the medical professionals to continue. You followed your brother's unconscious body to the surprise of the 118; you had never tried to follow the patient. It was more of Buck's issue.

"Y/N, our job ends here. You know that." Bobby spoke with Hen, Chimney, Eddie and Buck flanking his sides. Your e/c eyes shifted between the brown of your Captain's eyes and the blue of your boyfriend's eyes.

"It doesn't end when I just did compressions on my little brother." You informed him, "Write me up. Suspend me if you want, but I need to be in there."

Bobby's eyes softened, "Your shift is almost over. Just come in early on your next shift; you can make breakfast."

"Thanks, Bobby." You softly informed the man who'd become both your boss and a pseudo father. He only nodded in response with your friends beside him with different expressions, "I should get in there."

Without waiting for another response, you'd already entered the ER through the ambulance bay sliding doors. You went straight to the nursing desk with sure steps.

"Hi, I was in the ambulance that brought in a young male teenager. Shaggy brunette hair, caucasian. He was in a separate ambulance from his two friends." You spoke once the head nurse had turned his attention to you, "He was getting compressions on his way in. Name Luke Patterson."

"Are you asking as a paramedic?" Jude questioned with his fingers tapping the keys of the computer.

"No. He's my brother." You sighed, bringing the sympathetic brown eyes of Jude to look at you. The look changed a degree when he read the sentences on the screen.

"Are you aware your brother ran away from home? There's a social worker on her way."

Your jaw dropped in surprise, "Ran away? He ran away?!"

Jude flinched at the screech of words you accidentally released to both your and Jude's horror in the quiet ER. Jude turned the screen to show a digital missing person's poster with your brother's face on it.

"He's awake." Jude supplied, having deciphered and guessed correctly you'd gone a while without seeing your brother, "I'm off shift now, but I can bring you to him. I'll let the social worker know."

The nerves grew each step closer to the room your brother was stationed in for the time being with Reggie for comfort in the neighbouring bed. Part of you wished Luke would be asleep to avoid the confrontation about to happen. Only Luke's hazel eyes turned to see him in his pause of puking.

"Hey." You softly breathed into the quiet room. Luke's breath caught in his throat, "You ran away?"

"Guess we're more alike than we thought. We both run when it gets tough." Luke's words were all snark and poison to your heart. His hazel eyes glaring into your own eyes with anger that covered up the pain, "Hope this is just a delirious episode."

Your eyes squeezed closer, "Luke-"

"What? Are you gonna apologize for abandoning me? The only reason you're reaching out is that you happened to be the medic!"

You could physically feel your heart clench, "No. I tried reaching out. Mom and dad don't answer the phone. You didn't have a phone, and like hell, they'd give me the number either. The letters and-"

"Excuse me? Ms. Patterson." Both Luke and your attention shifted the entrance. A well put together woman stood with a clipboard, "I'm Beth. A social worker and I'm afraid you aren't allowed to speak with Luke alone."

"I'm his sister."

"Barely." Luke hissed, avoiding looking at you by looking over at Reggie, "I'd like to be alone."

"I can respect that. Here's my number if you need anything, Luke. Seriously, night or day, I'll answer. I know how it was living in that house, but you have someone to run to. Me." You firmly told the stubborn teenager, "Listen to Beth. You can't live on the streets Luke, it's not fair to you or anyone else. I'll ask my friend to keep an eye on you."

Had you not noticed Luke's jaw clenching, you'd have thought he hadn't heard you, "Whatever."

"Beth, have Reggie or Alex's parents come yet?"

Beth nodded, "I'm not supposed to reveal that, but yes Mr and Mrs Peters are talking to the doctor. Alex was moved into a room. They'll all make a full recovery."

You cast one last look at your little brother curled up in the hospital bed, a stark similarity to the night you returned home, only for your things.

It wasn't an accident you chose to return to your childhood home on Thursday night with the schedule on the fridge memorized. Every second Thursday, your mom attended the PTA meetings for Luke's school. Your father would be home but most likely asleep in his recliner, but if he was awake, it wouldn't be bad.

Your father was more lenient than your mother, even if he shared the same mentality.

"I was wondering when you'd come back," Mitch spoke from his recliner with the side table holding his drink. A glass of your mom's homemade lemonade, "Your mom-"

"I'm not staying." You firmly spoke on your way to the hallways where the bedrooms were positioned. You could hear the soft steps of your father's well-worn slippers.

"What?"

"Look, Dad, you can't leave the house, but I can. I'm not staying in this place with her stifling ideas. This is my life. Just because she decided to be a stay at home, mom doesn't mean she gets to make my decisions and live through me." You informed the man while shoving clothing, items, toiletries, among other things, in the suitcase.

"Y/N, firstly, that is not how to speak about your mother. She sacrificed to take care of this family. Luke looks up at you, don't give him a bad impression of our family."

"No."

"If you walk out that door without apologizing, then you are not welcome back until you do so." Mitch's voice came out in that fatherly authoritarian tone. The no-nonsense look in his eye nailing the coffin in your decision.

"I'm not apologizing for choosing a career of helping other people. Of being a step for someone to live and not die. So what if it's not a teacher, a lawyer or some other bullshit 'acceptable' career. I love you, dad. I love mom too and Luke. But I'm not subjecting myself to a desk job with no drive in it."

"Where will you stay?"

"I have a place. I'll call to talk with Luke. I won't 'poison' his mind with ill thoughts of mom. But I won't lie to him either."

Mitch was stock still as you glanced into the bedroom next to your childhood bedroom. Luke's room was still decorated with spaceships and stuffed animals. Your eyes watched the rising of Luke's back as he breathed from his curled up position.

You couldn't help but walk to kneel at his side. Your hand brushed his soft hair from his forehead. You drank in the look of pure content and innocence on his sleeping face.

"Y/N?" Luke mumbled with his bleary eyes blinking, "You're home."

"I have to head out. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," Luke spoke mere seconds before his breathing evened out once more.

That was the last night you'd been in the home. Luke sat next to the landline phone the next night, waiting for a call that never came. Your parents had unhooked the line. Luke sat on a stool beside it for weeks before his hopes soured.

If only you'd known leaving your parents would mean souring your relationship with your brother. Than maybe you would have reached out for his benefit and your self-proclaiming selfishness

"Thought you'd need a ride," Buck spoke from his position leaning against the wall still in his uniform. There was definitely a new tension in the air between you and him, "We'll grab our things from the house than go home."

"Thank you." You softly spoke to Buck. The weight of keeping your family secret dragged your shoulders down. You couldn't help but wonder if this was gonna cause a fracture in your relationship.

"No matter what. I'll always be here." Buck told you with his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. He led you through the ER, you'd waved at the shocked parents of both Alex and Reggie, "Who-"

"Luke's friends' parents."

"Okay, so your family lives just outside of the city in Los Felix?"

"Feliz. They live in Los Feliz, from what I know. I haven't been back since I was eighteen." You chuckled, "I want to stress that my parents are abusive or neglectful. Not even bad, but my mom had this idea of what my life should be like."

Buck hummed with his right arm around your waist, and his left casually balanced on his outstretched leg. A bottle of beer loosely gripped in his left hand.

"How old is Luke?"

"He'll be eighteen in August. When I left, he was ten." You mused, leaning into Buck's side, "I think that's why Maddie and I get along so well. We're both big sisters with a significant age gap to our brother."

Buck hummed, "Why did you keep it from me?"

"It hurt. It still hurts just thinking about it. They unhooked the landline the night after I went back for my things." You recalled the agony at having an olive branch snapped off, "I promised to call Luke, and I wasn't able to; they'd disconnected the landline. Imagining the look of hurt on Luke's face was enough to keep me from physically reaching out."

"I wish you had trusted me." Buck finally admitted with the last swig of his beer in the middle of his words, "We're engaged. We're looking at houses, but you never told me about your parents. About your brother. Above your life before the 118."

"Buck. I trust you with my life." You urgently informed the firefighter. Your hands cupped his cheeks to ensure his eyes focused on yours. You wanted him to see the truth, "You are the most important piece of my life. You and the 118 made me feel at home from the moment I joined. Buck, you are my family."

That look courtesy of his parents' actions faded ever so slightly from his eyes, "You guys are my family too."

"I'd like you to meet my little brother when we can reconcile." You announced into the cool summer night. Your drink had been long gone in the process of working through seeing your brother again, "I never thought I'd see him as a patient I'd have to help. Seeing him pale and unconscious nearly destroyed me."

"But he made it."

"He texted me 'didn't die' with the rock 'n roll hand emoji." You deadpanned, recalling the emotional two days for news. You were kinda shocked that Luke had even reached out at all.

Buck couldn't have successfully hidden his laugh if you weren't currently leaning against his body.

"So Albert found an apartment. He won't be moving with us." Buck changed the subject with the same ease he'd always held at knowing you. This was just another one of the moments you were thankful for having him by your side.

"So now there's not a reason to search for a bigger house?" You questioned with a crease between your eyebrows.

In the last two years, several significant changes have been impacting all areas of your life, especially the personal aspect. Buck had proposed during a picnic hike about a year ago with the mutual agreement for a long engagement; his parents didn't believe it was for anything other than pregnancy. Additionally, working in the same firehouse made planning difficult and then your apartment lease bringing the conversation of houses.

Originally Albert would rent part of the home out, so it needed at least three bedrooms.

"I mean, we don't have to not look. We've talked about children and settling down." Buck softly offered with a hesitant smile on his face, "I wanted to talk to you about it, but do you think we could talk about a possible time to start trying-"

"Y/N?"

The two adults went on high alert as Luke wandered into the gated garden your apartment building had. Buck's arm slid off your body as soon as you climbed to your feet at the sight of Luke.

"Luke?" You softly gasped, revelling in the sight of your little brother. Physically he looked fine with the addition of bloodshot eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I-I didn't have anywhere else to go." Luke choked out, sliding the battered old backpack off his shoulder onto the duffle at his feet. Luke's hazel eyes glimmering in the setting sun, "I got into a fight with mom and dad."

"Please tell me you didn't run away again." You heavily sighed in your movement to grab his backpack from the ground. Buck was quick to grab the duffle bag from the ground.

"I'll get the air mattress. Let Albert know not to bring his date home." Buck murmured in your ear low enough only you could hear, "I'll heat up the leftover Chinese."

The Patterson siblings watched as Buck entered the opening to the back of the building's secured backyard. Luke's backpack slung over his shoulder, and the duffle in his right hand.

"How did you find where I live?" You asked the emotionally seventeen-year-old with those puppy dog eyes. The eyes with the colour you wished you had inherited instead of your e/c.

"I saw 118 on the inside of the ambulance. I found the firehouse, and after procuring 'evidence', one of the paramedics told me where to find you." Luke shrugged, "I would have gone to Bobby's garage we use as a studio, but...he bailed on us. Reggie tries to get away from his place, and Alex's are assholes."

"The Peters are still married?" You scoffed, recalling the tense moments between little Reggie's parents. A cloud followed the couple around everywhere they went together, and Reggie was always caught in the middle.

"If-if this overstepping, I can find another place-" Luke began to respond on the walk down the inside hall to your apartment door.

"And make my struggle with the cursed object redundant?" Buck joked from the kitchen with a plate filled with warmed up food. Maybe the universe had a plan when Buck accidently over-ordered food from the restaurant.

"Luke, just stay here. You can have something to eat and rest up. But we need to talk about this. Running away is never a solution to your problems." Your stern voice reminded you of your mother when you broke the rules, "You need to let mom and dad know you're crashing at my place. They don't know my address."

"We got your back." Buck cemented to the quiet teenage boy that he saw a lot of himself in. A little kid living in the shadow left by an older sibling, only Luke's still lived.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry. Buck, this is my little brother Luke. Luke, this is Evan, my fiance."

Luke's eyes widened at the title, "Hi."

"Everyone calls me Buck."

Buck, Luke, and you shared stories of your lives in the times you'd gone without each other while Luke ate. By the time he shovelled the last bite of chow mein in his mouth, you'd caught up enough for the time being. He used the shower and settled into the air mattress sheets on the floor a fair distance from the couch Albert slept on.

"So I guess we'll be finding that house anyway?" Buck inquired under the stream of water from the showerhead. His hands massaging the shampoo into your scalp, the action intimate without a sexual motive behind it.

"How-"

"I could see it in your eye. We can see if your parents would be willing to meet up to talk about Luke. Maybe have him stay with us temporarily, give them space without your parents not knowing where he is." Buck murmured as he caressed your sides with his calloused hands. His forehead leaning down on your own forehead.

"I haven't been home in years. I'm not sure how they'd take us stepping on their toes."

"Then we tell them how it is. Their decision drove their youngest child away, and that almost killed him. He's almost eighteen, and then he can make his own legal decisions. Be the person we both wish had been there when we were his age."

And that's what you did. Buck and you met up with your parents at your childhood home to your horror and Buck's delight. He'd never gotten to see pictures of a younger you, but Maddie had brought his baby pictures for you to see the first time you met her. While your mom had fixed some of her lemonade Buck had toured the photos hanging on the wall.

The conversation itself was tense and combative, but in the end, your parents agreed that they'd prefer Luke to be safe than missing. Life was looking up.

"Hey," Buck murmured with his arms wrapped around your midsection. His blonde scruff scratching your cheek as he slumped over you, "Is that-?"

"Evie's babysitter?" You supplied with a raised eyebrow towards your now husband's laser focus on your brother.

After your relationship with your parents started healing, you had walked down the aisle in white to Buck. You had settled into the dream house with Luke taking one of the bedrooms. The other bedroom put to use when you got pregnant with Evelyn, Evie for short, to your shared joy.

"He likes her." Buck teased, watching the interaction between the two young adults on the main floor of the 118 fire house.

Eight-month-old Evie chewed on a rattle in the arms of her careful hold of her babysitter, but Evie's eyes watched her uncle. Luke, however, was focused on the beautiful and smart girl he knew from high school; they knew of each other but never acknowledged each other. Luke had already graduated when they first came into each other's worlds. Julie threw herself into babysitting to distract herself from both music and her mother's death.

"She's why the band doesn't practice in our garage?"

"It's a whole thing." You mused with a shake of your hand, "She lost her mom and music. By complete chance, he walked in on her, singing a song to settle Evie. One thing led to another, and Luke formed Julie and the Phantoms with her, Reggie and Alex."

"They formed a band?" Buck beamed, hearing the recent news, "I thought they'd never find their way back to it."

Around the time of your wedding, Bobby had a family emergency involving his uncle Trevor and his cousin Carrie. You'd gone back to work shortly only to be called to the scene of a fatal accident, the victim being Bobby Wilson.

"Julie is Luke's ideal girl. Good with kids, kind, smart, shy, and shares the same passion for music. They bring out the best in each other. They brought music back to each other." You informed your husband with that lovesick grin that was resigned solely for his impulsive ass.

"Kinda like us?"

"Yeah. Like us."

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#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #patterson!reader x brother!Luke Patterson #sunset curve #julie and the phantoms #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buckley oneshot #luke patterson #evan buckley x patterson!reader #caitsy and ash productions

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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years

Text

Faith Restored

Faith Restored - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: When an argument with your husband causes you to walk out, a vendetta against him leads to you being kidnapped. But will Hank find you in time to be reunited with him and your child?

Warnings: Swearing, Violence

Word Count: 2670

Requested: Yes! I got these two requests so decided to combine them into one fic as they were pretty similar, so I hope the people that requested don't mind. :)

"hi!! I’m so happy I found someone that loves hank too. I’ll literally take any fic with him: age gap romance, marriage, having a baby, his enemies taking you and him tearing the city apart to get you back, some combination of all that, I’ll take it all. thank you for your writing!!"

"Hii! I love your fics 💖 could you please write something with hank, like he arguments with his girlfriend about their work, then she’s kidnapped and he gets all worried and asks for forgiveness, if you don’t feel comfortable with that it’s aaaaall goood :) xoxo"

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this fic and I have a few more requests to write so stayed tunes for them. But thank you for your support and keep sending requests in. Also if you've got some free time drop me a message, I'd love to hear from some of you guys!!!

Masterlist

Love. It was a feeling you had refused to believe in. Everyone around you telling you that the one was out there, and it was only a matter of time, but you were convinced that wasn’t true. At one point previously you had believed in it but that only led to a broken heart and weeks of uncontrollable crying, the man you thought was the one, cheating on you only days before your wedding. So how could it be true if the universe had let you suffer that badly? But as cliché as it sounds, that point of view changed completely as soon as you started your new job as a detective in the intelligence unit. From day one you had fallen head over heels for your boss, that hope of love finally returning. It had taken a long time for you to trust him and enter a fully committed relationship as that fear of heartbreak and the large age gap between you loomed over you both initially. Hank had been the best though, taking his time going step by step to make sure you were comfortable with everything, as well as keeping away the judgement from others the best that he could. He understood that feeling himself, still suffering the loss of Camille’s death, scared that you would leave him, but instead of being non-committal, it drove him to love you more, living each day like it was his last.

Now five years later, your relationship was pure bliss. Long gone were the days of doubts and distrust, instead replaced with only contentment and loyalty. Onlookers still judged the unconventional age difference but you had learned to live with it, coming to the conclusion that you loved Hank regardless and that was all that mattered. Only eight months into the relationship he decided that you really were the one for him, and a world in which he didn’t spend the rest of his life with you was one he couldn’t imagine, and so proposed inside his office, the place that started it all. You married shortly after at the courthouse, with only a small guest list, just wanting to be surrounded by your closest friends and family. The unit all in attendance, some crying, others wishing it were them getting married but collectively all ecstatic at the fact their favourite office romance was finally tying the knot. The next couple of months felt like absolute paradise, like you were in some sort of dream never to wake up again. Never a day went by where you didn’t feel the utmost joy and love in your heart, each day was a new adventure with the man that you could finally call your husband. You were on cloud nine thinking your life couldn’t get any better, until one day two pink lines stared back at you.

When you married Hank you didn’t expect to have any children, with him already having Justin and a grandson. This left you a little disheartened, but you would have married him under any conditions, even if that meant your dream of having kids would never come true. Whilst talking about your future together in the first few months of dating, the topic of kids had come up once or twice, with him stating he would love to have kids with you, but believing he couldn’t have any due to his age. But once you had told him you were pregnant, he was absolutely elated, even crying whilst confessing how much he loved and appreciated you. After a relatively difficult pregnancy with Hank being the most supportive, protective partner there could be, you gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy weighing in at 8 pounds, having his eye colour and your nose, a perfect combination of the both of you. For the first few years of your babies life, you spent your time staying at home looking after him, watching him grow up to look more and more like your husband each day. But finally, after his third birthday, you decided the unit was your calling and you wanted to rejoin your old team.

Things started off relatively normal, reuniting with the unit properly, finally becoming a team again. Adrenaline filled your veins once more, loving the thrill of arresting criminals and going on busts. The words ‘let's roll out’ sent sparks of serotonin throughout your body, loving being back after years of ‘calmness’ from child care. This new feeling caused you to get a little over-excited sometimes but nothing, in your opinion, that could be considered careless. However, if you asked Hank he would completely disagree. The man just wanted you to be safe at all times, not just for him but for your son as well. Things started heating up after a couple of weeks of you working there, him not wanting to address it initially as he knew you were so happy doing what you loved, but he was scared for your safety. He didn’t want a repeat of his last marriage, he adored you so much he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you were to get an injury or die. That was until one night, a bad day at the office caused him to snap, needing you to know how he felt about what you were doing.

Leaning against the counter in the kitchen at your shared home, you heard the door slam, knowing it was Hank, who had stayed behind in his office after a particularly nasty case.

“Hi Babe, did you get everything done that you wanted to?” You chirped, just happy that your husband was finally home.

“Y/N we need to talk,” you turned around to face him, your smile falling at his serious tone.

“Ok?”

“I understand you love being back in the unit but Y/N, we have a son now”

“What are you trying to say?” You replied, your tone turning sour, part of you knew what he was trying to say, but never in your mind did you think he would confront you about it. Why couldn’t he just be happy for you?

“I just think you’re being too reckless in the field,” he remained calm, just trying to get you to understand where he was coming from.

“Reckless? Are you fucking kidding me! I’ve spent three years looking after our kid and you can’t even allow me to have this?” You were furious by this point, you loved your job and had been away from it for a long time. Ok, maybe you were a little under cautious sometimes but not what he was suggesting!

“I'm just looking out for you, I can’t have you dying on me Y/N! You’re my wife for god’s sake I want you to be alive and safe!” He raised his voice, angry you couldn’t see what he was seeing.

“You know what fuck you, Hank!” You pushed past him, grabbing your keys and wallet on the way out, getting into your car to go anywhere but that house.

Driving around the city you were thinking of places to go, your parents, a hotel, another member of the units house? Finally deciding on Jay’s apartment you pulled into his buildings car park, checking your phone before going inside. Staring back at you were five missed calls and thirteen unread messages, all from the same person, the reason why you were outside someone else’s apartment and not your own home. Getting out of your car you walked towards the entrance of the apartment building, mulling over whether you should message Hank back. Deciding against it, you lowered your phone, not even wanting to think about it for the time being. Suddenly someone grabbed you by the waist, yanking you towards them, placing a foreign material over your mouth. You screamed, praying someone would hear your cries as you kicked your legs out and at the perpetrator as they dragged you backwards. More hands reached out to pull you into a car, sobbing you regretted what happened earlier, wishing you would have just stayed home. Finally, as your vision blurred, you hoped the unit would find you before it was too late.

Waking up in a cold room, you tried to pull your arm towards your chest, meeting resistance in the form of metal chains attached above your head. You groggily looked around, using your detective skills to assess the situation you were in, noting nothing in the cold, concrete room except yourself and a metal frame chair placed in front of you. Confused at the situation, you thought about what you had done, was it a person you had arrested? Or someone who had a vendetta against you? That you didn’t know, you couldn’t comprehend anything at the moment, your head pounding not allowing you to think clearly. You remembered being in the apartment complex’s car park after an argument but other than that everything was hazy. Thinking as hard as you could, your thoughts were interrupted as one of the offenders entered the room. He sat at the chair, sharpening his knife, a sadistic smirk played on his face.

“You know why you’re here?” Raking your brain you couldn’t think of anyone you had pissed off enough for them to go to these extremes.

“No,” you replied not wanting to antagonise him in any way.

“Your killer of a husband murdered my boy in broad daylight and no one, NO ONE, ever did anything about it!”

“That wasn’t me, please just let me go, you can talk it out with my husband in the proper ways!” You pleaded, knowing that him showing you his face didn’t bode well for your chances of survival.

“YOU SIGNED UP FOR THIS THE DAY YOU MARRIED THAT MURDERER!” He shouted out, punching you in the stomach, taking his anger out on you anyways possible.

“He’ll find us, and when he does he’ll kill you too,” you spat knowing that you couldn’t make anything worse. In response he threw a series of punches at your face, grabbing his knife holding it to your throat. Smirking he replied,

“You think he really cares about you?”

“WELL, WHERE IS SHE?” Hank was absolutely seething. Shouting at anyone who came to talk to him, both members of his unit and uniformed officers alike. He couldn’t lose her, besides his son, she was his whole life, not even wanting to picture a world where she wasn’t with him. He had to prepare for the worst, he knew that, but he couldn’t do it without a tear coming to his eye. Why her? Why couldn’t they just have taken him instead? He was who they wanted, not her, so why couldn't they just have fucking take him?! The team all sat watching, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would come out and demand answers, ones they didn’t have at the moment. They owed their boss, cashing in multiple favours with him throughout their time in intelligence, and they knew this was the only thing Voight would ever ask for in return. And Y/N, you had worked with them for years, not just being colleagues but developing a strong friendship that would last years to come, that’s if they could find you in time. Exiting his office, the unit turned to their boss as he spoke.

“I want everyone giving their all to this case, this is my wife we’re talking about, not just some faceless victim, Y/N, your friend, your colleague, and we are going to find her. No matter what it takes, am I clear?” Each detective replied with a ‘yes sarge' and getting to work, investigating every lead that they could. A couple of hours later the team had found the suspects, located pod footage from the time you were kidnapped and worked out a motive, everything seemed like was going well, except for the fact they still didn’t have a location. Another hour passed and still no location, Hank getting more and more agitated by the second, with his anger about to boil over, all with the push of a button, or a certain detective. Being the bearer of bad news, the team pushed Ruzek to play the devils advocate to tell the Sergeant they had come up empty.

“Hey Sarge, we’ve got nothing else, every lead we’ve got is coming up dry”

“NOTHING! YOU’VE GOT NOTHING? SHE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL WE KNOW AND YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’VE GOT NOTHING?” Hank boomed scared that his precious wife, who had done nothing to deserve this, could be being tortured or even worse dead.

“Hank, Hank” Olinsky stepped in, pushing his distraught friend back in his office, knowing Adam had done nothing wrong, instead just an outlet for his long term friends anger.

“It's ok, she’s gonna be fine” Alvin reassured him, knowing him exploding with emotions would do nothing to help his missing wife. Finally, an hour later, the team got a breakthrough courtesy of a CI of Dawson's, gearing up and rolling out as quickly as possible much to Hank’s delight.

Raising your head, you spat at the man in front of you, teasing him even more, threatening him to do his worst. He had beat you, cut you, degraded you, trying to get your spirit to break. Although you knew Hank would come to find you, you were starting to crack, the pain overwhelming to the point where you couldn’t cope anymore, a pain you wouldn’t wish on anyone. You were losing faith rapidly, expecting your unit to have already come by now, but where were they? Maybe they didn’t actually care about you? Lowering your head after a series of more beatings, you’d had enough.

“Please stop, please, I’ll do whatever you want, just please stop!” You cried finally giving into the man.

“I want you to pay for what your husband has done to my family, pay with your life,” he pulled a gun from the waistband of his trousers, pointing straight at the middle of your forehead. You had lived your life as much as you could, finding the love of your life, having a son and restoring your faith in the universe, well up until now. Closing your eyes you prepared yourself for the bullet, but when the loud shot came, it wasn’t from a gun but instead the door flying off its hinges.

“DROP THE WEAPON!” Someone shouted, someone that sounded weirdly familiar to your husband.

“DROP IT,” they repeated before you heard a clatter on the ground and a flurry of movement. Suddenly someone grabbed your face, nervously speaking your name. Opening your eyes, you looked up, staring straight into the eyes of your husband, smiling briefly before a cloud of darkness washed over you.

Waking up, the first thing you noticed with the constant beeping of a machine, then the warm feeling of a hand in yours. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking sluggishly adjusting to the harsh light, before focusing on the figure beside you.

“Hank?” You croaked, sounding like death itself but glad you were alive and facing your husband once more.

“Baby! Thank god you’re alive, you got me so worried there,” you smiled, thanking whatever god was out there for a second chance so you could spend the rest of your life with your husband and child.

“I-i missed you, Hank”

“I know Baby, I know I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry for walking out on you, why couldn’t I have just stayed there and listened to you? Talked it out properly”

“No don’t apologise, this was all my fault, you loved what you were doing and I was trying to take that away from you because of my own selfish wants.” You loved the man beside you unconditionally and although you were mad in the moment, this whole situation made you realise that nothing he could do could make you love him any less.

#hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Fingers and Toes // H.P.

Request: heyy!! i’m not sure if you still take requests but i was wondering if you could write a harry fic as a dad? like make it all fluffy and stuff like that? thanku!! - anon

Summary: Glimpses into Harry’s life as a father.

A/N: I adore this request! Thank you so much for sending it, I hope you like!! Also I made some changes to canon, so in this there are only two children, not three.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of injury and nightmares. This is nothing but wholesome fluff.

Word count: 1.6k

On the eve that Harry became a father, he couldn’t quite believe the size of his son’s fingers and toes.

Ten tiny fingers.

Ten tiny toes.

As a whole hand of tiny fingers wrapped around one of Harry’s, Harry made a silent vow.

This vow he made as he glanced between his newborn son and you, sleeping peacefully after an intense delivery. This vow he made to remind himself of the importance of family.

The ten fingers and ten toes of his newborn son would never once experience the level of pain he had. His son would never go through the emotional torment of never knowing his parents; his son would never experience true loneliness.

Harry made the vow in utter silence, sealing it with a kiss to his son’s head. As if in response to the promise made, his son squeezes his father’s finger, gripping it with all the strength in one of his tiny hands.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All perfect, and all there.

-------

It’s a huff and a cry that follows that has Harry rushing from the kitchen into the back garden. Harry’s heart stops at the sight of his son sprawled on the floor; fat tears running down his face more from shock than pain.

He brushes his son down, checking for any major injuries as he does so. His heart returns to a normal rhythm once he realises that James is entirely uninjured, suffering shock more than anything.

“How many fingers, James?” Harry asks; reaching out brush the tears away from James’ face.

“Ten.”

“How many toes?”

“Ten.”

Harry kisses his son’s hair, “Ten fingers, ten toes. We’re ready to go. Do you feel better?”

James nods; wiping away the last of his tears and smiling shakily up at his father. Harry smiles back at his son; lifting him under the arms and settling him on his hip. “I think we’ve had enough of the outside for now,” Harry comments softly, “Will you help me make lunch, James?”

James nods once more, tucking his small head into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry chuckles softly, heading back inside where he settles his son on a stool at the kitchen counter.

“What will it be, James? A sandwich or some soup?”

“Soup!” His son shouts, a smile on his face as Harry grabs the tins from the cupboard and sets the pan on the stove.

You enter the kitchen, pressing a lingering kiss to Harry’s cheek before dropping a kiss to James’ head. “What’s happening here?”

“Lunch Mama!”

You laugh, “I can see that. What are we having?”

“Soup,” Harry states.

Harry watches you with a warm smile. You pick up your son, settling on his stool before sitting James on your lap. Harry thinks back to his teenage years; to the years that he didn’t know whether he would make it through the school year never mind make it to having a family.

The rich laughter of his son brings Harry back from his memories; fetches harry back from the precipice in which he found himself teetering. He lets himself have his small panic; Harry lets himself fall prey to the anxiety that has unfurled in his gut. But he only lets it keep hold of him for the amount of time it takes him to count the fingers and toes on his son.

Ten fingers, ten toes. Harry’s mind calms and his smile returns to his face.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All will be well.

--------

Harry lurches upright. A hand to his throat as he drags in air; his mind rattled and his body shaking. It had felt so real. It had been real; he had experienced his nightmare before as a teenager, but now, knowing he had much more to lose, it felt even more terrifying.

He glances over to your sleeping body; a hand outstretched towards him even in sleep. His eyes run over you; watching your sleeping form rise and fall as breath leaves your body. Harry’s mind settles slightly as he sees you’re alive and with him. The silver wedding band on your left hand signally a happy future from the nightmare he had found himself in.

Harry presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face before leaving you in bed. He shives against the cold air of the night; the landing freezing as Harry sits at the top of the stairs, hanging his head in his hands.

He knows logically that there is no threat now; he vanquished it years ago and there had been no signs of another uprising since. Yet, Harry spends most nights having to repress the urge to stand guard by the front door, wand at the ready for whomever should come crashing through posing a threat to his wife and his son.

James stands by his door; his teddy hanging from his hand as Harry tries to settle his breathing and heartbeat.

“Daddy?” He asks, voice quiet yet ringing through the silent house.

“James,” Harry says, a hand reaching for his son.

James goes into his arms willingly, yawning tiredly as he settles his head against his father’s shoulder. James doesn’t say a lot, even this young he knows that his father struggles to sleep on some nights. He had found him asleep on the couch downstairs more often than not, a blanket thrown haphazardly over his body as James hears his mother soft humming from the kitchen.

“How many fingers?” James asks, stumbling over the harder sounds in the words.

Harry swivels to face his son; the question being the last thing he expected.

“Ten, James.”

“How many toes?” James follows, kicking his feet in the air for emphasis.

The weight on Harry’s chest feels lighter as he answers his son, “Ten, James.”

Ten fingers, ten toes. James reminds Harry – ten fingers, ten toes, and we’re ready to go. As long as we have all ten fingers and all ten toes, we can do just about anything, even if it is defeating the terrors that haunt us at night.

-------

The very same vow is made when Lily Luna Potter arrives in the world on a sunny March morning. Harry felt sure that he had the same awe-filled expression on his face from when he first held James.

The pregnancy had not come as a shock to either you or Harry. The both of you had been trying for a second child for close to a year before being blessed with a positive test.

The nerves do not rack Harry as much as they did before James arrived. However, they still turn his stomach as he watches you go through the same experiences of morning sickness followed by odd cravings. For James, it had been chocolate with cheese and onion crisps. For Lily, it had been crackers slathered with butter followed by plain digestive biscuits.

Harry crinkled his nose at all cravings, but kept his mouth shut for fear of upsetting you. He would reassure your worries as you would reassure his. The both of you looking to James as an example that so far, neither of you had failed at parenting. The small boy turning into young child that knew his manners and was devoted to his mother.

It is James who whispers the vow. He stands over the cot of his baby sister, eyes wide in awe at the small bundle of blankets. He turns to his father; catching his attention from whatever conversation he was having with you.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” James whispers, pointing to Lily’s hands and feet.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” Harry states, the vow unleashed to the world and sealed with the very same kiss he had placed upon James’ head all those years ago.

----------

The Hogwarts’ Express hoots behind them. James looks toward the train before fixing his tear-filled gaze on his father. Harry is barely keeping it together himself; the first of his three children to be going away to school. He knew he would be emotional; he just didn’t prepare himself for the pit of dread eating its way through his stomach lining.

Harry reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. His first born; his eldest – the one who made him a father, who had moulded him into the man he is today.

“Write to your mother and I when you get settled?”

James nods. “As soon as I get to my room,” He replies, voice quiet.

“Do not be scared of whatever house you are sorted in. Your mother and I love you either way.”

A weight is lifted off of James’ shoulder; he had been silently obsessing over that since the letter first arrived. His father, the great Harry Potter, was known for his strong allegiance to the house of Godric. James couldn’t help but panic if he was to be sorted into any other house; he didn’t want to think of his father’s reaction should he be sorted into Slytherin.

Harry pulls James into a hug; unable to let his son go without one more. As they part, Harry pats James on the shoulder, nodding towards the open carriage door, silently letting him know that it’s okay now. It’s okay to let go and board the train.

James does so with a wobbling lip; trying his best not to cry in front of those who could be his housemates for the formative years of his life.

“Fingers and toes,” Harry shouts, not caring about the odd looks from the other parents. These were his final verbal words to his son until Christmas. He would make sure they were those that he vowed over his cradle when he was only a few hours old.

James sticks his head out of the carriage window. “Fingers and toes!” He cries, throwing the promise back to Harry.

He would return in one piece.

All ten fingers and all ten toes.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @xfirstfemale-marauderx @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @inglourious-imagines @superbturtlemakerathlete @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

#harry potter x reader #harry x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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hxwks-gf · 4 years

Text

*✧･ﾟ:* two little lines

bakugo x fem!reader

summary: surprise! you’re pregnant. wait, that’s not the only surprise...

warnings: pregnancy, descriptions of throwing up, swearing, mentions of alcohol

w/c: 2k

request: I just read your Bakugou gets turned into a kid fic and it was so adorable, especially since he done well knew what he was doing( the brat lol) Anyhow I wanted to request either Bakugou( pro hero of course) reacting to the news that he and his female S/O are having either twins or triplets.

a/n: THANK U FOR SENDING THIS REQUEST IN, ANON!! i loved writing it so much, and soft bakugo is my fav bakugo. enjoy my loves!

“Katsuki, I really don’t feel well,” you said as you came out of the bathroom, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

Your husband looked up from the piece of his gear he was tinkering with. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve felt really sick to my stomach for a day or two now,” you explained, sitting at the edge of the bed and closing your eyes. You could feel another wave of nausea coming over you at full speed. “Oh, God--” You clapped a hand over your mouth and ran straight to the toilet again, making it just in time before you violently puked the last remains of your breakfast into the porcelain.

“Y/N?” he called from the bedroom. A few seconds later and you heard his bare footsteps on the tile floor. His warm hand placed itself on your forehead and pushed back your sweaty hair. “Hey, let’s get you to the doctor, alright?”

“No,” you moaned into the bowl, “I don’t want to go to the doctor yet, it’s just the stomach flu or something. I just need to rest.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Bakugo growled, squatting beside you. He wrinkled his nose at the contents of the toilet. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow,” you said, cracking open your teary eyes at him. He had that hard-set look on his face, the don’t-even-try-to-argue-with-me one. You had seen it enough over the last few years of your marriage. “Can you just take me to the store so I can get some medicine?”

“Tch,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of this apartment in this state.”

“Katsuki.”

He tipped his head back and let loose an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

You held out a hand and he helped you to your feet. He muttered incoherently while you got dressed, something along the lines of “--doesn’t know how to rest--” and “--never listens to me--”. After you were dressed, he at least made you drink some water before driving you to the nearby corner store.

The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes as you perused the aisles with a basket in hand, mindlessly putting cans of soup, stomach medicine, and orange juice into it. Bakugo grumbled to himself a few feet behind you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“I’ll be right back,” he grunted, and disappeared down the snack aisle, leaving you by yourself near the pharmacy.

As you wandered down the rows and rows of medicine, looking for anything else you might need for the stomach flu, you saw something on display near the counter that made you stop and stare.

“There’s no way,” you murmured, walking up to them and picking one up. You flipped the thin box in your hand and scanned the back for more information. When was the last time you had your period? On a hunch, you dropped the box into your basket and hurried towards the check-out before Bakugo caught up with you again.

The cashier rang you up and bagged your items, and you felt another wave of nausea starting to build in the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, Bakugo rounded the corner empty-handed, and headed straight for you.

“Got everything you need?” he said, guiding you out of the store.

“Mhmm,” you absentmindedly hummed, trying not to think about the little box at the bottom of your bag.

The drive back to the apartment was silent, as was the walk up. Bakugo offered to take your bags but you vehemently denied his help, giving him a string of excuses and making a beeline for the bathroom again.

You locked the door and leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were in a seated position with your knees brought up to your chest. You were scared. The plastic bag was staring at you on the floor, just waiting to be opened. With a trembling sigh, you pulled out the little thin box and opened the pregnancy test.

Two lines. That meant pregnant, right?

You couldn’t tell how long you spent staring at the little stick in your hands, or how many times you had read and re-read the little instruction booklet.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

You licked your lips in anticipation and unlocked the bathroom door. You could hear Bakugo tinkering with his hero gear in the bedroom again.

“You were in there for a while, are you okay--” His sentence was cut short when he looked up at you standing in the doorway, holding the stick in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Katsuki, I’m pregnant.”

The screwdriver he held in his hands fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. Within seconds he was getting up from the bed and gathering you in his arms, his chin tucking itself in the crook of your neck.

“K-Katsuki?” you said, utterly surprised.

“Are you being serious?” he said, voice muffled in your shoulder.

“Of course I’m being serious.” You gently pulled out of his embrace, but he still kept you close. “Look. Two lines.”

He looked down at the test in your hand. His own fingers reached up and wrapped themselves around it, his brows coming together in the center of his forehead. He stared at it so intensely without saying a word, you were concerned he had lost some screws.

“Katsuki?” you said again, gently. “What...what are you feeling?”

“I know I've never been good with talking about my emotions,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “But this--this makes me feel like the happiest fucker in the entire world.”

With those words, the gate that held your own emotions in check completely shattered and you fell into a mess of happy sobs, excited laughs, and exhilarated kisses. You’re not sure when it happened, but the two of you ended up kneeling together on the floor, still holding onto the test like your lives depended on it, crying and laughing and kissing. The only other time you had ever seen Bakugo cry was the first time he saw you walk down the aisle at your wedding.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “I really can’t.”

“Pregnant,” you breathed, still in awe. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Listen to me.” Bakugo let go of your hands and cradled your cheeks, looking directly into your eyes. “I love you. You are not going to lift a finger for the next nine months, do you understand me, woman?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Doctor’s office. Tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re about six weeks along,” the obstetrician explained, pulling on a pair of clean gloves. “Let’s get the ultrasound going so you guys can hear the heartbeat.”

You squeezed Bakugo’s hand excitedly. He sat beside you, watching the doctor’s every single movement like a hawk. She had you lean back and lift up your shirt to expose the little baby bump that was already starting to show.

“Alright,” she said, pushing the scanner over your lubricated belly and watching the fuzzy screen intently. You had no idea what she was looking at, it just looked like big blotches of black and white moving around. “Oh--there we are!”

This time, it was Bakugo that squeezed your hand with excitement. You looked over at him, seeing how focused he was on the little screen.

“Oh, what have we here?”

You whipped your head back to the doctor. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Looks like you’ve got two buns in your oven,” the obstetrician said, pointing to the screen. “See that? Two heartbeats.”

“T-twins?” you gasped, feeling Bakugo’s hand go limp in your grasp. “We’re having twins?”

“Congrats, Mom and Dad,” she said with a grin, clicking off the scanner and cleaning the jelly off of your stomach. “Twins are much more common than you think.” She stood up and stripped off her gloves. “I’ll be right back with some paperwork for the pharmacy and give you two a moment in private.”

As the door closed behind her, you looked at Bakugo. He was still staring at the little ultrasound still visible on the screen, his mouth slack and his eyes wide.

“Honey?” you said, tilting your head. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Twins,” he whispered in awe.

Your face broke into a smile and you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Twins.”

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Kirishima asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Get your feet off of there,” Bakugo snapped, swatting his friend’s feet. “Christ.”

You chuckled, handing Kaminari and Sero each a beer. “It’s something we’ve been waiting to share with you guys for a couple weeks now.”

“Are you not going to have a drink with us, Y/N?” Mina asked from the couch, holding up her glass of wine.

Bakugo moved to stand beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. It was rare for him to be this affectionate in front of the rest of the group, but you knew he was too excited. They all looked at the two of you with confused and concerned expressions on their faces, waiting for whatever piece of news you had to share.

Mina was quick. “Holy shit, you’re joking!” she squealed before you could say anything, kicking her feet excitedly.

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima said, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “Joking about what--” You could literally see the lightbulb turn on above his head. “Oh, oh! Oh my God, guys! Are you serious?”

“Yep,” you laughed, patting your belly. Bakugo pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear.

“Wait, wait,” Kaminari said, holding up his hands. “I’m lost. What’s going on?”

“C’mon, dude,” Bakugo growled.

Sero’s eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his skull. “Congratulations, you two! I was wondering when it was going to happen. I almost had a bet going for it.”

“A bet for what?” Kaminari whined.

“Denki,” you said, giving your stomach another exaggerated pat.

“Stomach?”

“Yes,” you encouraged, nodding your head slowly. “And…?

“And...oh, holy shit!”

“There he goes,” Kirishima laughed, patting his friend on the back. He looked back to you and Bakugo with a grin on his face. “That’s amazing. How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?”

“Well,” you started, smiling at Bakugo over your shoulder. “That’s not all of it, exactly.”

Now they were back in the dark again, Mina included. You took a deep breath and felt Bakugo’s arms tighten around you. “We’re having twins.”

“Twins!” Mina screeched, jumping up out of her seat and clobbering you in an excited hug.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Bakugo warned, hostility lacing his words. “Be careful with the mother of my children, alright?”

A surge of warmth spread through you, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Mother of his children. It had a very nice ring to it, and hearing it from his lips only made it that much sweeter. You reached around and tenderly kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you guys need, please let us know,” Kirishima said as he stood up and clapped a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “I mean it. Whatever you need. We’re all here for you.”

“Thank you, guys,” you said, unable to hide the crack in your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Tears came not a second later. “I’m sorry, everything makes me cry nowadays.”

“I don’t envy you there, Bakugo,” Kaminari said with a grin. “But I second what Kirishima said.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking about possible baby names, planning the eventual baby shower, and anything else under the sun that had to do with babies. As you sat on the couch, nestled into Bakugo’s side and casually running a hand over your growing belly, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Bakugo would be alright.

You had to admite, the idea of having two little miniature Katsukis running around delighted you in a way that would most definitely frighten anyone else.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFHJKDHFKSDHFKS #MY HEARTTTTT #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #bakugo fanfic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo fluff

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nessinborderland · 3 years

Text

Be Mine (07)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death, Trauma, Bath Sex, Blood and Injury, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings

Notes: Here it is! I finally update this fic lol. Better late than never :) Thank you all for being so patient with me and appreciating my other writing endeavors. Means a lot <3

AO3 Link Masterlist

You spend the rest of the day crying in your room. You still can’t believe he acted like that, especially after the sex you just had. It had felt so free, to just give yourself to him and feel him in you. It felt right, it felt… like he was the one for you. Like you could trust him.

Like you could choose him.

And then he bit you, and it was like a tsunami of messed up emotions came flowing in. It scared you; there’s so much pain and doubt in him. But there is also so much more, things you don’t want to think about. Things you don’t want to see.

You caught a glimpse of his soul, and it is dark as the moonless night. It scared you for a moment. But then he pushed you away and all you could feel in him was fear; he was terrified. You could relate to that; it was all so overwhelming. But then shame and rejection washed over you as he said all those awful words. You know he didn’t really mean any of it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You were so mad.

You still are. After he followed you out of that meeting, you thought he was going to apologize, but he just made it worse. All those threats, all the manhandling; you don’t want any of that. He has no right to act as he did.

And then there is Chishiya. The man hadn’t hesitated to follow you as soon as you left the meeting. He had approached you with the excuse to know about your wellbeing, but you knew what he really wanted to know. And when Niragi appeared right behind you, it’s like Chishiya’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be coming for you in three days.” the man had whispered before walking away. You hadn’t understood what he meant until Niragi said something similar.

Your heat is approaching.

You have a heat roughly every four months. It’s way too soon. But with the Alphas around, you guess it is bound to come earlier. You don’t know what to do, to be honest. If you stay at the Beach, they will come for you. If you run away, they will hunt you down.

You don’t have a choice; not really. As soon as your heat starts, you won’t be yourself anymore; you will open your legs for the first Alpha that puts his hands on you. You will just let them take you, without a care of the future. Not only that, but they will fight for you too, and you know they won’t give up.

It terrifies you, the thought that they might die because of you; that he might die.

A firm knock on the door startles you. You stand up, composing yourself; it’s probably someone with your dinner. You open the door to see Niragi, food tray in hand.

“Didn’t know you worked in the kitchen now,” you say, drying the tears from your face. He says nothing, eyes locked on you. You can feel his emotions, guarded against you, but still there. Hesitation, annoyance, and something else you can’t quite figure.

“I don’t.” he says with a scowl, “But who do you think has been sending these to your room?” He hands you the tray and stands there, hands in his pockets. He averts his eyes, “Can I come in?”

“It was you?” you ask, eyes wide in surprise. He shrugs.

“What, you thought that everyone here just gets room service?” he says with a huff, “This is not a luxury hotel, Y/N.” there’s a pause, “So, are you gonna let me in or what?”

You step aside, letting him come in. Your mind fogs for a moment when you catch his scent, but you quickly control yourself; there’s something important your need to discuss.

“Are you here to apologize?” you ask after a moment of silence. He’s still not looking you in the eyes. You sigh and put down your tray, grabbing an apple and handing it to him. He looks at you with a raised brow. “Eat with me,” you say. He takes the apple from you, sitting down on the bed when you do the same.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” he says, after another moment of silence. You give a huffing laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe not physically,” you answer, taking a spoonful of soup. “But death threats and name-calling are still hurtful, you know?” He nods. You can feel the turmoil in him; how he’s divided between staying or running away. Between apologizing and let you accept him or just take you, “As I said before, I understand your feelings, but I will not be a doormat.”

“Yeah, I know...“

“So,” you press on, “Are you here to apologize or to wait until I miraculously forgive you?” You feel a spark of anger in him, see the scowl on his face. It doesn’t last long, though.

“I– I‘m–,” he hesitates, “I won’t do it again.”

You raise a brow, “And?...”

His eyes lock on you and he sighs, “I will be better.” you keep staring at him until he rolls his eyes with an exasperated grunt, “Fine... I’m sorry, okay? Happy now?”

“Hmm, much better,” you say with a small smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His scowl deepens, but he says nothing. You notice that the tip of his ears are red; that’s probably the only time Niragi has ever looked anything near to adorable. You’re happy he apologized, even though it was clearly an effort. A part of you is happy to see him struggle; you don’t need a man child that doesn’t own up to his own mistakes.

You keep eating in silence, wondering when he will talk. You were expecting him to leave after apologizing, but he just stays still. You can almost see the gears turning as he tries to decide on what to do next.

“You’ll still bond with me, right?” he blurts out, eyes focused on the apple in his hand. You can’t help but laugh out loud at that; of course, that’s what is bothering him. You shrug with a tight-lipped smile.

“Do I actually have a choice?” you ask him, “Will you respect my wishes if I tell you that I don’t want you? Or will you still take me as soon as I get in heat?” you both know the answer to those questions.

“You know I can’t control this,” he says in a low tone, “Neither do you. We just–”

“But am I wrong to wish that we could?” your eyes lock. You can feel a knot forming in your throat, “I can promise you the world, and still let Chishiya fuck me if he gets to me first. I–I can’t– none of this matters.” you let out a sob, “Free will is nothing but an illusion.” you whisper. “I– I’m scared.”

You just let yourself cry again; you’re so done with everything going on in your life. It doesn’t matter what you try to do; nothing will change. So you might as well just accept it. That doesn’t make it easier, though.

Maybe one of you will end up dying before you can see yourself stuck in a shitty relationship. That’s what you can hope for, for both of your goods.

He pulls you into a hug before you can voice your thoughts. You bury your face against his chest, wishing that that proximity, all those feelings, were real; that you actually loved each other. It only makes you cry harder. He keeps hugging you, whispering comforting things in your ear.

What surprises you the most is that this is not him. The glimpse of the person you saw when he bit you; that was him. This one is not. The actual Niragi would never comfort you like this. The actual Niragi is too broken to show anyone love or kindness. That’s why it hurts even more; he isn’t himself. You wouldn’t want him near you if he was himself. But that still doesn’t erase who he is; the things he has done. And it scares you.

But you also don’t have a choice.

“Yes.” is all you say. You don’t need to say more. You know he understood what you meant. The happiness you feel in him tells you that clearly.

You accept him when he kisses you, letting yourself be controlled by your wolf; is much easier than let your doubts consume you. Your wolf knows precisely what she needs; you don’t. So you let him kiss you and touch you. You let him undress you and kiss your body. You let him dry your tears and turn your sobs into moans of pleasure. You take all of him in you, enjoying the connection that you know isn’t real but feels so right. The only thing that matters when you’re both connected like that.

When he says ‘mine’ against your lips as you orgasm together, you have only half a mind to not say ‘I love you’ back. That is something that you will not say. But when he embraces you after, so warm and strong and safe, you can’t help but say that you like him. That you want him. He whispers something you can’t understand, already half asleep. But you can feel his emotions, cristal clear in the back of your mind.

He’s the right choice.

You wake up hours later, naked in your bed. Alone. It’s still dark outside, but it mustn’t take long for the sun to rise. You let out a sigh; did you just let him console you and make love to you just so he could leave, again? Is this how it’s going to be from now on? You control the impulse to cry; that’s pretty much all you do. You’re tired of it. You have made your decision; now it’s time to face the consequences.

You walk through the empty hallways of the hotel. Everyone at the resort is either dead asleep or still partying. You have no idea where Niragi might be, but you know he can’t be far; you can still feel him in the back of your mind. Faint, but there. You don’t feel any exaggerated emotion, though. At least that brings you some peace of mind. You walk around the resort for some time until you find him.

He sits at the edge of the rooftop, his gun beside him, a beer in hand. He notices you as soon as you show up, turning to look at you. He says nothing as you approach him, sitting next to him. One of his arms goes over your shoulder, pulling you closer. All signs that he’s not rejecting you. Your anxiety dissipates; you can’t believe how relieved you are. You lay your head on his shoulder, enjoying the silence and the early morning.

“Want some?” he offers you his drink. You shake your head, “Noted: doesn’t like beer.” he says with a huffed laugh. You don’t find it funny; you really don’t know anything about each other. You know even less about him than he knows about you. You decide to risk it; it can’t hurt to ask.

“Tell me about you,” you say, a slight questioning tone in your voice. He tenses up immediately, arm leaving your shoulder. Your hand snaps to grab his hand, “I–I don’t mean your scars!” you say before it’s too late. “Just tell me something, anything.” he looks at you with a frown, before looking straight ahead with a sigh.

“What do you want to know?” he asks in a cautious tone. You open your mouth to answer before hesitating; there’s so much you want to know about him, but you know that the wrong questions will scare him away. That’s the last thing you want. You interlock your fingers, thumb brushing over the back of his hand in what you hope is a calming gesture. He doesn’t pull away.

“For starters…” you hesitate, “What’s your first name?”

“Suguru,” he answers after a pause, “But you can keep calling me Niragi,” you whisper his name, feeling it on your tongue. It feels odd, but also right; like you’re the only one allowed to call him that. “What else?” he snaps your attention back to him. You hesitate for a moment.

“Well...what is your favorite color?” you decide to go for the safest route possible. “Your favorite food? Favorite animal? What did you do back in the real world? What–”

“Wow okay, easy there with the questions.” he’s not frowning anymore, so you take that as a win. He takes a deep breath. “My favorite color is black and I–”

“I would have never guessed,” you laugh, as you look him up and down. He raises a brow at you before proceeding.

“I like katsudon,” he hesitates, “My...my mom used to cook it for me a lot when I was a kid.” you smile; it’s the first time you heard him share anything about his family. Your eyes lock, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. “What were the other questions?” he asks.

“Favorite animal? Your job back home?”

“Oh right,” he proceeds. “I like ravens.” you nod with a smile, remembering the raven tattoo on his chest. “And I’m a game engineer. Mostly software, make sure the game works fine and the design and controls don’t give any problems, that sort of stuff.” your eyes go wide. You would never think of him as having a job like that. He notices your surprised expression, “What, you thought I was some gangster or something?”. You laugh.

“Not really, but never took you for a game nerd.” you smirk, “Is that how you learned how to shoot, by playing Call of Duty?” He huffs out a laugh with a light slap to your thigh. He’s no longer tense; you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment at being able to get something out of him.

You keep talking, watching the sunrise as you answer his questions. He asks you similar stuff to what you asked him, clearly uncomfortable to go beyond that. You’re thankful for that; you wouldn’t want for it to ruin the mood.

He’s surprisingly nice to talk too, once he’s comfortable. You don’t know if it’s because you’re outside, alive, just the two of you, but you feel so relaxed. It’s almost like nothing is wrong. You wish you could just freeze this moment in time, make it last. But good things tend to come to an end.

A voice from the walkie-talkie near him interrupts your conversation.

“Say that again?” he asks into the intercom.

“We found this guy wandering outside the perimeter.” says a male voice, “What do we do with him?”. Niragi sighs, already standing up.

“Take him to the usual room, I’ll be there in a moment.” he turns to you, “Go back to bed, Y/N.”

His whole demeanor is different. No more of that warm vibe or nice smile. He’s back to being Niragi, the militant. You don’t like it one bit. You make that clear, but he still insists on you going back to your room.

“Why can’t I go with you?” you ask. You rarely see him in those circumstances. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you need to see that part of him too. You discuss it for a moment until he sighs, finally complying.

“Fine,” he says, “But stay back, and leave the room as soon as I order you to.”

You walk into a room on the lower levels of the hotel. You stay back as you promised, standing behind the rest of the militants, closer to the door. The rest of the group makes way for Niragi as he walks to the center of the room, where a man is tied to a chair. You can’t see his face, covered by a black bag, but you can see that he’s shaking. With a sign from Niragi, the bag is pulled off, showing the man’s face underneath. There’s a gasp, and then:

Confusion. Realization. Fear. Terror. Panic. Anger. So much anger.

All those emotions hit you like a ton of bricks. You instantly know that they’re not yours; that scares you more than if they actually were. You have never felt those emotions so strongly before. You’re about to take a step towards Niragi when his voice echoes in the room.

“Y/N,” his tone is so unfamiliar that you wonder for a moment if he was the one talking. His voice is ice-cold but with so much anger underneath that he’s visibly shaking. It’s terrifying, “Get out.”

“Ni–” you take a step towards him.

“All of you, out!” he shouts, startling everyone in the room, “Now!”

You take a good look at him. You can only see his back, but you clearly notice the glint of claws. His whole body language screams threatening wolf. You know that if you could see his face, his eyes would be yellow and his fangs would be exposed.

This is bad. Really bad.

Next chapter

#alice in borderland #ima wa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland fanfic #Niragi Suguru #niragi x reader #niragi #niragi imagines #also on ao3

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