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ivantillz · 3 days

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kiss me;

ivantill, 8.7k read on ao3

For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?” Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.

Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.

His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)

“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”

His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”

Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”

For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.

Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”

Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.

What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.

He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.

Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.

“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”

Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.

As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.

“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”

He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”

And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.

Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”

Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.

“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”

Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”

“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”

He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —

The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”

Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.

Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.

She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”

And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.

It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.

“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.

Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.

Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.

Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.

Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.

In the middle of all of them was Ivan.

He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.

Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.

For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.

Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.

“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”

Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.

“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.

Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”

Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.

“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”

Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.

Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.

If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.

“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”

He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.

Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.

The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.

He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.

And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.

Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”

Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.

Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”

He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.

This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.

But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.

“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.

Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.

“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”

“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.

He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”

Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.

That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.

He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”

Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.

He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.

So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?

They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.

He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.

Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.

“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.

Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.

Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.

They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.

All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.

“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”

Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”

“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”

Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.

Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.

He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.

And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.

So much for being a professional.

Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.

For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”

The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.

Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.

Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.

It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.

After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.

Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.

“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”

Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”

“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”

Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.

Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.

He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.

Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.

Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.

“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”

He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”

But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”

It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.

“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.

Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”

Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.

“Me too,” he said.

“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.

Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”

He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”

Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”

“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”

He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”

“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”

Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.

She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”

“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”

Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.

But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.

“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.

Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”

Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”

“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”

Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.

It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.

And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.

But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.

He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)

“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”

Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”

He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.

He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.

And Mizi was enabling it.

After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.

She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.

It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.

“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”

Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”

And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.

Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”

That was what he was afraid of.

Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.

Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.

Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.

Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”

Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”

Stupid. He was so stupid.

“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”

Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”

“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”

Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.

Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.

“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.

Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”

The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”

“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”

That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.

It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.

But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.

Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”

He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.

Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.

For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.

Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”

Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”

“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”

Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”

“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”

Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.

Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?

“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.

Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.

“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.

Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”

“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.

“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”

Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”

“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”

Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”

“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.

He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”

The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.

And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.

For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.

“You are a really good person, Till.”

He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.

“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”

But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”

He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”

Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.

“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”

Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”

He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.

“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”

He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.

“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”

Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?

“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”

Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”

She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”

“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”

Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”

“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.

It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”

“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”

Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.

When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.

He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.

A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.

Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.

He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.

Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.

For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.

Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.

But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.

“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.

Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.

“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.

Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”

He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…

Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?

“Sure.” Understatement of the century.

Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.

“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.

Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.

Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.

Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.

But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.

Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.

Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.

Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”

Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”

Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.

He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.

“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.

Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”

“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”

Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”

He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”

Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.

Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.

“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.

He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.

He deserved that.

Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”

Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.

“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”

The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”

“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”

Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.

“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.

He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”

Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”

Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.

“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”

He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.

“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”

Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”

Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”

“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”

Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.

They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.

Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.

Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.

Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.

Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.

Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”

Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.

Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.

“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.

Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.

Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”

Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.

“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”

Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.

“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”

At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.

“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”

Till tilted his head with a confused smile.

“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”

Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”

She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”

For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –

He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.

“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.

Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.

“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”

Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”

He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.

It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.

When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.

“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.

A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #alnst ivan #alnst till #ivantill fic #mywriting

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billwidoll · 1 day

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Poison Girl

It was Friday night, and all the teenagers on the Island were at Sn's party, the party was packed, there were kooks and Pogues, Sn didn't care about the richer or poorer thing, you just wanted to be happy.

And there You was talking and greeting everyone at the party, You were known as the poison girl, and the person who gave you that nickname was Rafe Cameron, your close friend.

Everyone called you that, because you were very clever, naughty and spicy. And also very hot, and even though you were Uma Pougue, all the kooks praised you.

You're strolling through your party, until you see Rafe Cameron grabbing a generic blonde.

You and Rafe had a very spicy relationship, and everyone also knows that you are Rafe's favorite crush. You are on their way

"Do I get in the way?" You speak in a sinic voice and when Rafe sees you he immediately breaks into a huge smile.

"you will never disturb my love" Rafe says, jumping the girl who was on his lap.

You give a little smile, already knowing that Rafe He already wants you by his side, Rafe speaks softly into the blonde's ear and without further ado she walks away with a frown on her face.

"Did you dismiss her?" You ask, already knowing the answer, Rafe pulls his neck and brings you closer to him.

"don't act like a fool poison girl" Rafe says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and guiding you somewhere.

"may I know where we're going Cameron?" You ask sarcastically, you knew Rafe was taking you somewhere private.

Rafe doesn't answer anything and continues walking with you, until you stop at his truck, which was far from your party.

"Have you ever had sex in the car?" Rafe asks you innocently and you laugh.

"I don't think so, until now" you say and Rafe likes it when you're like that, an admitted bitch. And you were his favorite bitch.

Rafe opens the car doors and you get in.

“I brought us a little something” you say, taking out a little white powder that was in your pocket.

Rafe smiles hugely. "I think I love you" Rafe tells you and you both laugh.

You both sniff the powder, and completely stoned, you two start kissing and caressing each other.

Rafe gives your neck several hickeys, and you moan softly, until he goes to your lips again.

"I love those lips of yours so much" Rafe says in a hoarse voice and you let out a light laugh.

You take off your blouse and Rafe helps you, and you release your breasts and Rafe, without thinking twice, he cups one and massages the other with his hand.

One thing you and Rafe liked was that you two didn't care about committing, you both just wanted to have sex. but Rafe had a different look at you lately.

You and Rafe Two make spicy love for 1 hour. You end up sleeping in the car with Rafe.

You wake up and see on your cell phone that it was already 10 am, you turn around and don't see Rafe by your side.

You see someone opening the car door and it was Rafe, with coffees and French bread.

"Poison girl finally woke up" Rafe says, closing the car door and kissing her on the lips.

You think you must be dreaming, when did Rafe start being so nice to you?

"Well... I think I have a really bad hangover" you say with your hands on your head, but then drinking the coffee that Rafe gave you.

"go home and then come to my house, I have the perfect ingredient for your hangover" Rafe says with a smile on his face and you pat him laughing too.

Rafe takes you home, in his car, and the two of you talk and tease each other on the way.

Rafe stops by your house and looks at you.

"It will always be a great pleasure to see you..." Rafe says, running his hands over your face and you smile.

"and... it will always be a pleasure to see your dick too" you say Giving Rafe a kiss on the lips.

"I'm going to give you my ring, so you never forget me" Rafe says, taking off his gold ring and giving it to you, you jump into Rafe's arms happily.

You got out of the car saying goodbye to Rafe, and he saw you heading to your house.

"little do you know you're going to be my wife" Rafe says to himself and smiling.

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yappacadaver · 4 months

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I hope maria got outta milford and got into a more satisfying marriage if that's what she wanted honestly

#just nuts to me to marry a guy likely out of college likely very young and stupid #back when you needed a man's permission to open a bank account #and then that man is fuckign 20 something raymond delver LMAO #i might've killed myself in that situation #all im sayin is once she's gone it's no longer MILFord am i right *is executed by firing squad*#actually kinda sad though i have a feeling both of them wanted kids and only one of them knows why they never ended up having any :|#that's like really fucked up honestly to marry someone and be like oh yea lets plan a future together i want to start a family :D #and then keep putting it off with increasingly banal excuses as the love fades from your marriage and secrets weigh heavier than the #words you do actually speak and suddenly you're middle aged and not only have you gone through life unlived but you've wasted the time of #the person you love and closed the door on her dreams too. Just saying.#EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH ROTS #mr delver i wont u...

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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months

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dreams about my dealer…

dealer e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: 💌Hey Tori! Hope your day is going lovely 😊 As a request for the vday celebration, could I pls get a blurb where the reader is nerdy and loves reading old cheesy romance novels like these? And one night she falls asleep after reading and she fantasizes about her dealer Eddie as this suave romance hero who sweeps her off her feet and gets her all hot and bothered. And so after that night she starts buying books covers where the men resemble him and he catches on during one of their smoke seshs. You decide how it ends 😉😉 by: @honey-flustered

authors note: This is such a fun request, thank you for sending it in lovely. Hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants a part two of just smut pls lmk cause I’d love to, but ya know I’m trying to blurb here.

all of my works are 18+

“there ya go, wrap your arms around me, sweet girl. Just like that.” The familiar voice bellows into your neck.

“I’ve got you now, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your flesh this time, sending shivers down your spine. The long familiar hair tickles at your collar bone as his arms wrap tighter around you. This time causing a very needed friction between you and this mystery man.

“Mmm, go ahead angel, make yourself feel good.” He says again before removing his face from the crook of your neck and revealing himself to you.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You pop up out of bed, removing your sleep mask before you slam your hand down on the obnoxious alarm clock sitting on your side table.

You feel a wetness in your panties when you go to stand up and it’s as if a flash goes off in your mind and you’re taken back to the dream you were just awoken from. Eddie, your drug dealer in nothing but blue jeans, his hair wrapped in a low bun and his big muscular chest dripping with sweat as he held you against his body protectively.

You look back over towards your bed, eyes glancing over the book you fell asleep reading. You couldn’t deny the man on the cover looked pretty close in comparison to eddie, long hair and the same exact attire as he was wearing in your dream. The man had a smirk on his face that was almost identical to the usual smirk eddie always had when you’d buy your weed from him.

later that day you find yourself across town, at your local library; ready to check out any and every dirty romance novel with a man that in some capacity meets your dealers description. You couldn’t believe the crush that formed from one little dream, you’d been festering on thoughts of eddie all day and you need more ammo for these ongoing fantasies and the very welcomed dreams you might have tonight.

You’re able to find five books in total, and you just knew you were gonna whip through them all in one week. There was a hunger in your center that just needed to be satiated, and if you couldn’t have the real thing, then the next best will do just fine.

The next morning, you speed walk through the halls of Hawkins high, binder held tight to your body as you keep your head down just trying to get to biology in one piece, but you’re running late so your feet move frantically as you go over an excuse to give Mr. Sivertson before you breech his classroom door. As you become deeply lost in your thoughts you collide into another body who was rounding the corner, your binder falls out of your hands and on to the floor as the other persons hands catch you by your waist.

“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” The all too familiar voice fills your ears and you freeze, eyes now level with an ozzy shirt and his statement leather jacket.

Eddie’s eyes glance down towards your stuff that fell into a messy pile between your feet, your heart hammers when he bends down to grab something. The smirk on his face tells you exactly what he’d found and now you just want to run back to where you came from, get in your car and drive to a whole new town.

“Whatcha got here?” He says through a dopey laugh, as if you’d been caught red handed. That’s exactly what’s happening.

“Didn’t think a church mouse like you would read these kinds of books.” He whispers, although you two are the only ones in the hall.

“I-I’m not a church mouse, and give me my book back.” You huff and snatch your book out of his heavily ringed hand, but your face was far too guilty and you knew that eddie knew exactly why you had these books in your possession.

You eventually side step him, not wanting to hear any of his teasing that you knew he’d readily dish out. Eddie wasn’t a bully per say but he was an asshole, a cocky asshole to be specific.

Once you’re out of biology, you speed walk to your locker. Ready to put this godforsaken book away until the end of the day, when you can read it in bed, cuddled up where no one would make fun of you. But as you open your locker a folded piece of paper falls out and hits the toe of your flat. you shove your binder into a cubbie before bending down to retrieve it.

Meet me behind the football field after school

- EM

Your stomach fills with butterflies as it simultaneously sinks into the depths of your ass.

Why would he want to meet up after school? Was he going to poke fun at you? Have you show his friends your book so they could all laugh at you?

But another part of your brain said:

What if this is it? What if he really wants you? Maybe he’ll kiss you? Maybe you can finally feed this hunger.

That was all you needed to make your split decision.

After school, you grab your book from your locker and make a beeline for the football field. Bypassing quick goodbyes from your friends.

When you finally make it to the tree line, you exhale a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, then you take a few deeper steps into the desolate woods. No one else came back here except for one infamous metalhead, so you knew you wouldn’t be met with any asshole jocks. That settled your stomach a bit, but not fully.

You see the back of Eddie’s head first as he sits on the old warped, wooden bench; hunched over as if in concentration. When you move closer, walking around the rickety table you can now see that he’s breaking up a nug of weed and placing it into a zig zag before rolling it up, snug.

Your eyes meet when he glides his tongue along the lining, he smirks up at you as your eyes gawk at the movements of his pink muscle, licking up and down. You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together, that burning in your core blazes hot and he hasn’t even touched you.

Your eyes flicker back up into his and you realize that he’s watching you, watch him.

In a moment of faux confidence, you ask—

“What’s with the letter in my locker, Munson? I thought I was the one that was supposed to put the letters in your locker when I want to smoke.” You shoot him a weak smile, making him scoff as he puts the joint behind his ear for safe keeping.

“Are you gonna sit your ass down and smoke this with me or not?” He huffs, pulling a zippo lighter out of his leather jacket pocket and flipping the lid open and closed, open and closed. Is-is that a nervous tick? Is he nervous, too?

You lower yourself onto the seat in front of him, taking on your own nervous tick of picking at your nails.

He takes the joint from behind his ear, his eyes never leaving your form and it has you cowering deeper into yourself. He lights the spliff and inhales deep, holding it in for a second and then letting the smoke bellow out of his nose and mouth. You can’t deny how undeniably sexy he is.

“So, those little slutty novels you have—” He starts

“They’re not slutty! They’re romance novels, Eddie!” You screech in embarrassment, as your cheeks heat up from the deep cackle he makes in your expense.

“Yeah yeah, princess. Tell me, do they fuck in these romance novels?” He throws weak quotation marks up for the last two words, as his eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in question.

“Well, I mean…yeah they do.” You respond with a defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Mhm, just as I suspected. Slutty.” The way he sing-songs ‘slutty’ makes you fall into a fit of giggles, and the noise is music to Eddie’s ears.

“So uh, do you want me to make you feel better than those shitty books ever could?”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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unreliablesnake · 7 months

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Surprises (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Price finds out at a family gathering that his favorite niece's new boyfriend is none other than Ghost. The lieutenant thinks he's in trouble. How bad can things be?

Note: A little fluff and angst. What do you think? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Simon knew he fucked up the moment he realized you were Price's niece.

The very niece he babysat several times when you were little, the one he talked so much about whenever they were discussing family. He loved you, he was proud of you, and despite you now being an independent young woman, he still treated you as if you were an expensive and rare piece of jewelry that had to be locked away.

So yes, when he attended a family event you invited him to and met the captain there, he knew he was in trouble. You had talked about your Uncle John before, sure, even joked about the two of them possibly knowing each other, but not even in his wildest dream could he suspect the two men being the same.

And now he was sitting there across from him at the long picnic table in the garden, his blue eyes piercing through his skull. Every time you intertwined your fingers with his on top of the table or leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, he could almost hear the annoyed groan leave his lips.

You suddenly rested your head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly when he looked down at you. He couldn't help himself, he just followed his instincts when he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of your head. That move made the captain snap.

"Simon, why don't you help me bring out some nice, cold drinks?"

He gulped before nodding, his entire body suddenly going rigid from the terror he felt. "Hey, he barks, but doesn't bite. You'll be fine," you assured him as you kissed his shoulder through his shirt.

With a sigh, he stood up and followed Price into the kitchen, carefully closing the door after himself. "Look, Cap, I didn't know she was your niece. I'm sorry. But trust me, I'm serious about this relationship. I really like her," he began to explain the situation without hesitation.

But Price didn't seem interested in his excuses as he was quick to raise a hand to stop him. "I don't care, Simon. She likes you too, it's obvious and she told me before, I just don't want her to suffer if…"

If he dies on the field. That's what he wanted to say, he knew that. Nodding, he leaned against the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. The two of them stood there in silence for a while, trying to figure out what to do now. Simon understood why Price was so worried about this relationship, but he also had to understand that he wasn't about to give you up.

"Would you be happier if she was dating a civilian? Some loser who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life?" he asked to break the silence.

Price drew in a sharp breath that he let out while running a hand through his hair. It was easy to tell he was dying to light a cigar, but his sister had a strict no smoking in the house rule. So he settled with the second best option and began pacing in front of him.

"You, as a person, are not the problem, Simon," he began. "You're a good man, I know that. The problem is our line of work. And the fact I'm your higher-up, and now I have to think about you not only as my right hand, but also as the boyfriend of my favorite niece. Every time I send you somewhere dangerous, I'll have to consider how she would react if something happened to you."

With a loud gulp, Simon considered his reasoning. He was right. Everything he said was understandable. "If you think it would be better if we broke up, just say it," he told him eventually.

There was no response for a while, they stood there in silence once again. But then Price shook his head and extended his hand. "Just make her happy, that's all I'm asking for," he said with a smile. "And don't tell her that we know each other. I don't want her to worry."

Hesitantly, but Simon shook his hand. He had no idea what made the captain change his mind, but he didn't have an issue with that as long as he was okay with him being with you. He then opened the fridge and began to put a selection of drinks on the counter next to it.

Once they made it back to the family, you immediately gave him a worried look, silently asking for a story he wasn't about to give you. So he lied like Price had just asked him to do, even if it hurt like hell.

"Everything's fine, he just wanted to get to know me," he told you with a smile before giving you a quick kiss. "We're good."

"Sure?" you asked with a suspicious look on your face. Simon nodded. "All right, if you say so. I'm glad he likes you," you noted with a smile on your lips.

Before he could say anything, Price raised a hand. "If I might add, you chose well, kiddo," he said with a smile before flashing a smile at the lieutenant.

"I know," you said with a triumphant smile before giving Simon a kiss.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare #call of duty #mw2 #captain john price #john price

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 🍒

Sometimes love doesn't make sense.

Tags/Warnings: Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook, Pastel!Reader, opposites attract, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, suggestive flirting, adult themes but no smut, consensual hand holding

Length: ~4k

There is no taglist for this fic.

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"Uhm-" you wonder, stepping inside the store to be greeted by the guy you know as Jimin.

"Hi, my friend has an appointment?" you say, and the artist stands up and walks closer. Your friend stays close to you, buzzing with the excitement of getting her first tattoo ever- too shy to say anything.

When it comes to that, you're a little ahead of her. As long as the person isn't intimidating, you're fine talking to them, asking for help or anything alike.

"Yeah, it was the dragon on her back, right?" and your friend nods. "I've got it all prepared already. Wanna come downstairs with me, I'll explain the rest of it there?" Jimin kindly says, taking her coat and leading her downstairs where you assume everyone works. "Oh, you can just wait in the back there, or stroll around town. It'll take a while." he says, and you nod, a bit unsure now after being left alone.

"Hm?" a voice chimes up, before he speaks again. "Oh, Thought I heard something." the guy comes into view, and suddenly you can't talk.

This is what you can't talk to.

Intimidating? Heavy boots and black clothes, silver chains and piercings and a fully inked sleeve including his hand present themselves to you, muscles free since he's only wearing a black sleeveless top that should be illegal for him to wear. His smile is the friendliest you've ever seen, reaching his eyes and his slightly wild hair just makes him look even better, sides buzzed down to mere millimeters left- you want to disappear from the earth and his memory forever.

Fuck. He's looking like every goth-girl's wet dream while you're dressed in a pastel colored dress and thick knee high socks to keep your feet warm in this cold weather. Great.

"You can sit here in the back with me, otherwise you'll catch a cold from all the cold air blowing in every time the door opens." he recommends, pointing to a couch in a corner that you assume is where they all spend their breaks. Awesome, he's a gentleman as well it seems, making it all even worse for you. "You want something to drink? I've got tea or coffee." he wonders, and you meekly press out a 'tea, please.', making him chuckle.

He probably thinks you're nothing more than a child, with the way you look so out of place.

You envy your friend in that department. She's got piercings, she knows cool friends, she has exciting stories to tell. Meanwhile you sit at home and knit sweaters and blankets, help out at the local animal shelter because you get to pet the cats and dogs all day, or work at the library where you aid tourists find the town's guide.

"Your friend was the tall girl, right?" he asks, coming in with two cups, one of which he sets down on front of you. "I'm Jungkook by the way." he introduces himself, smiling before he leans back in his seat. Of course he's interested in her, you think. She's exactly his type, though he looks quite a few years older than her.

Well- the least you can do is help her find a date.

"Ah, yeah, she's my friend. Best friend." you say, pulling the cup of tea closer. "Thank you, for the tea." you say politely, and he grins in front of you.

"No problem." he waves off.

"She's uh.. She works at a car-uh.. She does those paint jobs. Like, those complicated one's that look realistic and all that." you try and explain. "I.. Forgot what it's called though. But uhm.. You can ask her later maybe?" you say, and he shrugs, setting down his cup before he smirks impishly, tongue playing with his lip ring in a manner that you can only describe as illegal.

"I probably could do that-" he starts, before he tilts his head a little to the side, body leaning forward. "-but I'd rather get to know you a little more." he wonders, and you almost choke on your tea- but you're composing yourself. "Maybe I could start by asking if you've got a boyfriend?"

Well, so much for composing yourself.

Your wide eyes look at him scandalized, and he giggles at the sight of it. "I- uh, no, I mean no I don't have one, to be honest-" you laugh a bit nervously. "-guys don't.. I- most guys don't really look my way, you know. So I thought, you know, considering-" you motion up and down towards him, "-you'd be more interested in my friend." you ramble, and he just shakes his head, smiling.

"I mean, she seems nice- but, I don't know either." he shrugs. "Something about you- it's hard to explain."

You shift a little on the spot now, unsure what to do in a situation like this. Typically, you shut down guys quickly, scared of what's to come. But you also don't want to keep doing exactly that- not when you've got the chance of something right in front of you like that. For the first time, someone's actively interested in you. Someone who seems nice, that is.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, by the way." Jungkook suddenly rips out of your thoughts. He leans back again, giving you space, and it makes you feel a little deflated. Did you blow it already? Oh god you screwed it over, didn't you?

"No, you're not, don't worry." you say, looking down. "I just.. I'm not used to this. I'm usually always the wingman instead- or.. Wing-woman?" you think, and he laughs.

"Hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." he says, still friendly. "So, I'm wondering- any tattoos? Piercings?" he wonders, and you nod- instantly making his eyes sparkle in interest. "Oh- can I ask what it is, or do you want to let me find out later?" he says, and you instantly turn red, making him laugh. "Sorry, sorry- I'll stop, promise." he waves off. "..for now."

You laugh at his antics, unable to keep a straight face by now. "You seem like you know your way around with girls." you say without thinking, before you hurriedly correct yourself. "I-I mean I don't mean that your like, a fuckboy or something or- maybe you are that's fine too! I don't judge but- oh god.." you put your head in your hand. "You know what? I'll just wait here for her, I'm so sorry." you mumble more or less.

But much to your surprise, he simply laughs, head thrown back for a second before he grins at you, front teeth slightly protruding, giving him a bunny smile.

"You're so cute, I swear." he says, shaking his head. "I- is it okay if I ask for your number?" he wonders, and you look at him for a good moment, squinting your eyes as if you test to see if he's serious.

"I.. Sure..?" you say, pulling out your phone with all the different charms attached. He grins and shakes his head amused, though clearly excited as you type in your number into his phone before calling yourself to make sure it's correct.

"So!" he grins. "Since your friend is gonna still be out of order for a good four hours downstairs," Jungkook stands up to hold out his hand. "You up for some boba for our first date?" he asks, looking down at you even though you're standing as well by now.

And you nod, walking next to him through the slight October fog outside in town, his hand warming up yours.

You don't even realize how.. easy it feels, right away. His hand holding yours is not demanding, giving you the option to let go at any point, but you don't mind holding it. It's warm, comfortable, and it also makes you wonder if that's something he enjoys. Did he date a lot already? He certainly looks like he got the choice, girls probably falling for him fairly easily.

Well.. you're already trusting him too. How ironic.

"Just tell me which one you want, I'll go order." he says later, holding out a hand in case you lose balance as you clean off the rain from your boots as to not bring it all into the small store. "I'll pay too by the way, no but's!" he grins, while you look up at him with a pleading look.

"No, I'll give you the money back for mine." you say.

"But then it's not a date!" he argues back, a whine in his voice as if to mock the way you just spoke to him. "then it's just- two people getting a drink at the same time."

"what's so bad about that?" you laugh, crossing your arms without thinking- an action he playfully copies, pushing out his chest, fabric of his jacket stretching over his biceps.

"That it's not a date!" he says, before laughing as he relaxes, talking more quietly now with a lower, more serious tone. "Alright, in all seriousness though, I'd still like to pay even if there's no date." he tells you.

"I- no, a date is fine, it can be a date.." you say. "I just don't want to.. Come off as a leech for taking your money if you end up not liking me-" you ramble, and he smiles warmly, holding your shoulders before his warm palms touch your cheeks for a second.

"You're overthinking too much." he giggles, before letting go of you. "right now, I like you very much. And even if we don't end up working out, I'm not that kind of guy to go around and talk shit about people." he shrugs.

You sigh at that, before pointing towards an item on the menu. "..can you- I don't like that much ice in mine.?" you say, and he nods, before walking towards the worker to order.

He's oddly okay with you, you've noticed.

Normally, people and especially guys get frustrated easily due to the fact that you've got trouble deciding things, or that you don't like ordering, or that you quickly feel bad because your brain thinks the worst about every single word that's said to you. But he seems nice enough, doesn't come off as annoyed or anything. Despite his way of talking and his outer appearance, Jungkook feels nice to have around.

You wonder how a guy like him can be single.

Or maybe he isnt? Maybe he's into the BDSM scene, a swinger, or in an open relationship, and he just want to offer you a threesome? He looks like he might be into that stuff, like a dominant guy that enjoys taking control over his partner in the bedroom. Does he tie people up? You've seen stuff like that before, and it's not something you'd be opposed to if he'd be the one to-

Wow, alright, exit was three miles ago.

"Everything alright?" he chuckles, snapping you out of your thoughts, amusing him as he notices the way you turn red. "Been staring at my ass? Can't blame you, honestly." he jokes, making you hit his shoulder playfully before you take your plastic cup from him. "Hey, this might sound super shady and you don't have to say yes-" he starts, stepping out the small store with you where it had started to snow again. "-but I've got my apartment a few minutes from here, and it's freezing cold, so-" he takes your hand and looks down at you. "-you wanna go to my place?"

You're nervous now, more than ever. Thoughts are entertaining, they're safe and most of all yours and not real, but the prospect of potentially going into an apartment you don't know, with a guy you don't know, is scary. What if he's actually a serial killer, or really into BDSM and you'll get involved in some shady fifty shades stuff-

"-you really don't have to say yes. We can just go back to the Tattoo shop and talk there, I don't mind." he reassures, and you still don't answer. "What's worrying you? Maybe I can help."

"I-" you start, unsure, and fingers already hurting from the cold cup as you both walk outside the small store, walking side by side. You enjoy this a bit more- without holding his hand, you feel safer having a discussion like that. "-you know, guys only take girls to their place for.. Stuff, and I'm not like that, but I also kind of want to be but at the same time it's scary-"

"Hey, no, I'm not out for blood if you mean that." he chuckles, holding out his arm to make sure you wait until a car has passed the road you're both trying to cross. "Like, I'm not gonna lie and say I've never had one-night-stands or quickies or whatever, but right now I'm interested in you, first and foremost." he explains, his rather blunt words causing an elderly lady to turn her head scandalized as she walks past. "Also, I'm into begging. I'll only fuck you if you ask nicely." he smirks down at you next to him, before laughing out loud at your wide eyes and red ears.

"I-" you struggle to form words. But you're also horribly cold. "Alright then. I mean not the fucking part, at least not right now maybe sometime in the fut- where was your apartment again?" you stutter, and he grins so hard his eyes almost close.

"You're so fucking cute, my god." he shakes his head, before taking your hand again. "It's right down this road." he simply tells you, before you both find yourself in front of an apartment building where he takes you upstairs to his door. "Ah, I didn't clean up, by the way. It's a bit chaotic." he sheepishly offers, before the door opens.

It's warm, inviting. Doesn't smell bad, and it's not as chaotic as he told you it would be, Jungkook walking inside before you walk around, inspecting the apartment.

"I've put your boots in my shower, in case you're wondering where they are." he says after emerging from his bathroom, opening a window a little to air out the apartment. "make yourself at home, don't be so stiff." he chuckles, smiling when you visibly relax.

He sits close to you on the couch, but keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. He watches as you inspect a hole in a blanket he's got on the couch, shrugging. "My friend has a dog. Small little shit tore a hole in there, but it's still good so I keep the blanket."

"It's an easy fix." you say. "If you take those two parts of the yarn and then those, you can just tie them together so it doesn't rip open any further." you explain, and he tilts his head a little.

"Oh? Do you knit?" he wonders, and you nod.

"I.. My hobbies are kind of lame. I knit, and I help at the shelter a little away from the town. Other than that, I just.. Kind of exist in my apartment." you tell him. "I work at a library near the main train station. So, I'm not really interesting." you say, while he shakes his head.

"Don't say that. I think that's all pretty cool." he reassures. "Sounds like you've made a cozy life for yourself. That's pretty impressive considering today's times." he says. "I've always been.. Unsatisfied. With almost everything." he shrugs, leaning back, socked feet resting on the edge of his couch you're both sitting on.

"How so?" you wonder, taking a sip from your drink, before putting it back onto the small table.

"I don't know." he explains vaguely. "I guess I always had way too big dreams and aspirations. And now that I'm at that age I back then wanted to be, I feel like I wasted all my time with nothing but short-lived successes and people who only wanted me for the moment."

"Kind of.. Reminds me of myself." you giggle. "I.. When I was young, even a teenager, I always said I won't have kids. But these days, I kind of think, in the future I want them. Not right now, but one day. I wanna have a family and stuff, live in a house and have a dog and a cat and a husband and all that." you giggle. "like I said, not right now- but in the future."

"Hmhm. I never wanted to marry either. Thought that's just bullshit." he says. "But now, after seeing some of my friends have that, I'm envious. I want that too. A partner for life, I mean. A boring life." he says.

You hum a reply, nodding to yourself, a bit of quietness falling over the both of you, before he moves again, sitting down more comfortably turned towards you.

"I.. Would really like to get to know you. Seriously, I mean." he starts explaining. "Like I said, I.. Don't know what it is exactly, but you're.. Fuck you make me all weird." he laughs. "I wanna stay in contact with you, if you'd like. We could watch a movie? Only Netflix, no deep-throating during commercial breaks, promise!" he jokes, before adding, "..except if you're up for it." he giggles when you hide your face for a good second, laughing.

"I don't even know how to do that!" you laugh, making him raise his eyebrows while playing with his lip ring.

"Oh I can teach you, don't worry about that." he teases.

"I'm sure you can.." you mumble more or less, sipping on your drink. But your sentence seems to make him curious, eyes gaining a challenging glimmer as he leans forward.

"No no no, let's rewind a bit there." he says. "Just so I know where I'm at. You a virgin?" he wonders, and you pull your legs closer to yourself.

"..no." you shrug. "But.. I highly doubt I'm as adventurous as you." you tell him, making Jungkook smirk a little, as if challenged.

"Are you? What do you think I'm into then?" he wonders. "I've got a feeling you've made up your mind about me more than I thought."

"I mean, I don't know?" you say. "You.. It's not that hard to have more experience than me. I only had sex like.. Twice, and it's honestly not really for me." you shrug. "it's weird to.. Ugh I don't know."

"No, you do know, you just don't want to say it out loud." he clears up for you, making you nod. "Did you ever have an orgasm?"

"Jungkook!" you bark out scandalized, making him raise his hands in playful defense.

"What? You gotta ask these days, men are shit in bed most of the time, I have to admit that!" he laughs, shamelessly talking about this as if it's nothing but the weather outside. "So? Did you?" he wonders, and you shrug. "So you didn't?"

"I- don't know!" you say, a little glad you can finally talk to someone about it, hesitation finally breaking as you get the chance to make your frustration some room. "It's different when I do it myself. Like, then I'm pretty sure I have one? But when I had sex it was different, like I was almost kind of there but also not.." you lean your head on the backrest of his couch.

"Sounds like you didn't then." he tells you. "See, there's women out there who can't cum from penetration at all. The key ingredient is being fucking attentive." he explains. "I got more than just my dick, is what I'm trying to tell." he says, wiggling his fingers in front of his face, several rings adoring some of them- and you laugh.

"You sound like you're trying to get me to have sex with you right now." you joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking against his cheek for a moment.

"I'd fuck you any day you'd let me." he simply answers, eyes on yours. "After all, I gotta check out those tattoos you said you have." he flirts, and you move around a little, air between you both getting thicker. At this point, you can't deny the attraction. And with the way he talks and treats you, you're sure you'd let him prove his point as well. Right now. No regrets.

He notices the way your eyes fall to his lips, getting attached at the silver piercings there for a good moment, before you find his warm eyes again. And even though he really did not intent to be so forward so fast, he still scoots closer, tests the waters, places his arms on either side of you before the tip of his nose almost touches yours.

"Been wondering for a while now.." he starts, licking his lips before he looks down to yours, face tilting a bit as he looks at you. "..what flavor that lipgloss might be." he jokes, before he can't help himself.

You've not been kissed often in your life, not even in relationships. But you know for a fact that there's no experience comparable to the way he kisses you- not only his lips, but also his hands craving you it seems, making you feel completely under his spell. He's not just kissing you with his lips. He's using his hands, his tongue, knows clearly how to create a moment.

Your phone rings.

His rings soon after.

He laughs- and so do you.

It's a little awkward for a second, before he sends a message informing his coworker that you're on your way back, his grin still evident, never vanishing it seems. "so..?" you wonder having stood up to go grab your coat.

"So?" he parrots back, standing up as well to walk closer to you.

"What flavor is it?" you shyly try and flirt, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you again, just a peck, and another, and just one last one before he parts with laughter.

"I'd say cherry-" he grins, watching you tie your boots in his hallway before he cages you in at his front door again the second you stand back up, unable to resist you now that you gave him the chance to taste you.

"But let me make sure I got it right."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic

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ptersparkers · 1 year

Text

reckless (aaron hotchner)

summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.

warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably.

***

Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.

You just wish you liked your job.

You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures.

What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you.

In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.

You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected.

Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you.

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness.

It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.

Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late.

But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job.

“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say.

Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”

“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”

Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale.

For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that.

What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions.

“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case.

“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.

Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen.

“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”

“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning.

“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks.

“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.

“New flame?” Emily wonders.

“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”

“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file.

“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter.

“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.”

***

The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights.

“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud.

“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”

“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”

“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons.

“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”

“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”

“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”

“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.

“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”

“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask.

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”

All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.

“Go on.”

“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?”

“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”

You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly.

“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report.

At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues.

His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.

From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best.

When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole.

And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning.

What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you.

All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it.

He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.

He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.

The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.

It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals.

Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.

***

The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction.

The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team.

Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry.

“You okay?” he asks.

You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.

“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”

He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”

“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”

You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”

“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”

You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases.

But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.

“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”

“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.

You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”

“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”

“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.”

Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.

“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides.

“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”

“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”

“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.”

“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.”

“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read.

“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”

“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.

“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”

***

You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself.

But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t.

You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team.

But you don’t dwell on this too long.

Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.

You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.

Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.

Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.

He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area.

Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns.

Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house.

LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you.

You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you.

Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages.

“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.

“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.”

And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it.

“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”

“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace.

Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right.

You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct.

It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being.

You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.”

Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing.

“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”

“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”

“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”

“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”

That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.

“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”

“We have to catch Scott.”

“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.”

Unbelievable.

You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.

The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside.

Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety.

The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive.

You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico.

But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare.

You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck.

It’s black after that.

Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head.

“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”

“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies.

“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”

“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”

“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.”

Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare.

He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.

Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat.

“Get back to work.”

***

When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist.

The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.

The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.

The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.

The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from.

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott.

He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun.

“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”

Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”

“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself,

“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.”

“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”

Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you.

“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.”

He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.

“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.”

Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.

Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.

Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.

You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.

Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.

“Remember now?” he asks.

You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”

He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”

“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.

“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”

“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.

“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”

“No chance in hell.”

Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire.

“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.”

He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”

He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.

***

When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you.

The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep.

He wakes up to a cold sweat.

Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you.

You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t.

His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct.

The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.

When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property.

He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct.

At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day.

But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him.

“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.”

Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is.

He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.

But you never walk through the door.

“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.

“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out.

JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.

Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone.

When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place.

It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.

“L/N?”

“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.”

He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it.

“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good.

“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.”

From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer.

“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second.

“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.”

Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?”

Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”

“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”

Nobody says anything.

“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”

Aaron doesn’t like that answer.

His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.

This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim.

The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake.

It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct.

Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.

When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already.

It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it.

Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors.

The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words.

Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it.

“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.”

Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct.

The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.

“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”

Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott.

“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”

“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”

“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking.

He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you.

“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues.

“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.”

Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it.

“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.

“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”

“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”

He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.”

“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too.

“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”

Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything.

When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle.

“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.”

Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place.

It’s empty.

Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be.

“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment.

“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.”

It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do.

Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close.

Then he hears a gunshot.

Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.

But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands.

You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it.

He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you.

The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself.

Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital.

You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go.

His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.

“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.”

Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.

Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.

Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.

Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.

Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.

The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy.

Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates.

Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.

When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.

His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group.

“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.”

When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.”

Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.

“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.

“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.

“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”

Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.

Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.

It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.

“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.

Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t.

You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months.

“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.

“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says.

“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.

“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.”

“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.

You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.

“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.

Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.

“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”

“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly.

“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”

“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”

“I just–”

“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.”

Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.

***

You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep.

This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep.

The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.

You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case.

The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside.

“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.”

Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.

She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.

“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.”

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”

You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.

Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly.

“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”

You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.

“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.

“Did you sleep well?”

“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.

Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.

But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.

But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence.

“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out.

“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.

Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.

He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.

Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something.

“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted.

“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it.

“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”

There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me?

But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.

“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”

“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”

You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”

“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”

You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate.

Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.

Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”

“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”

“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”

“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him.

“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.”

You blink out of confusion.

“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”

The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay.

“Absolutely,” you say immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”

“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.

Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first.

“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts.

***

Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later.

“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.

“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.”

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”

“It’s no problem,” you downplay.

But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.

Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.

“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”

The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”

“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”

“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”

Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.

“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.

You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.

Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.

Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.

His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.

Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.

“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping.

Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him.

Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy.

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.”

You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.

True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat.

Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again.

You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep.

***

When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place.

JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched.

You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.

Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home.

The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.

The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.

When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.

He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow.

When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower.

But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.

Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”

Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.

“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.

“Please,” you croak.

Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake.

“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”

You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”

“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.

Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.

You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.

Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.

“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”

Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.

“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.

“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.”

You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.

Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.

You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.”

You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much.

Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot.

Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.

You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.

Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.

“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily.

Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.

“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”

Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.

“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.”

Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.

You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.

Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,

A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.

Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly.

It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.

But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering.

“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”

Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?

“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”

Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone.

“That would be great,” Aaron says.

You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.

“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.”

Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.

You settle with two pillows.

You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes.

“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest.

“Thank you,” Aaron says.

“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”

“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”

He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment.

But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while.

“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.”

“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess.

“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly.

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.

You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself.

You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much.

Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.

Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.

He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.

“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice.

He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric.

He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past.

Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere.

When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him.

“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.

Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.

“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm.

Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.

***

D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth.

You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right?

Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again.

This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up.

Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.

And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.

When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.”

“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it.

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”

Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”

“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock.

“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”

“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.”

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding.

“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”

“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”

“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.”

Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.

You can’t say no to Jack.

Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.

It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.

Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.

At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.

Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions.

Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.

Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.

It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.

A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.

Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.

It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.

Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.

Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.

And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.

Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.

Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”

“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”

“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely.

JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.

Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.

The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be.

In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.

Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.

The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.

But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.

You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.

Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.

“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”

You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.”

Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes.

Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.

You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment.

Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.

Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.

“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.

“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.”

You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave.

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly.

They leave soon after that.

You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there.

You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.

It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.

You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.

“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”

And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.

But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too.

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X

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skipper1331 · 21 days

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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

| Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

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back2bluesidex · 2 months

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout

Word count: 4.4k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Jungkook should have headed home.

He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.

What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert?

He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him.

That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret.

Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s.

And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of.

He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him.

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you.

Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him?

Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later.

Your face still feels hot.

For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!

All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you.

Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you?

These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration.

Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with.

But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it?

The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed.

The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning.

Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door.

And your head starts spinning all at once.

“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger.

“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff��” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?”

You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in.

Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice.

Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion.

He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you.

You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same.

You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.”

You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water.

“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen.

You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions?

But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.

“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”

He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.”

A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that.

“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.”

This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you.

Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again.

“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.”

The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.

“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?”

“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest.

“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.

Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-”

“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off.

“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious.

“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you.

“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line.

“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you.

“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself.

Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you.

Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it.

“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.”

And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.

You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more.

He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes.

“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face.

Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now.

Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-”

“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace.

“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!”

Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.

He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool.

Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence.

“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.

“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees.

He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him.

He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting.

He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else.

Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.

Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears.

Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up.

“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.”

“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs.

“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question.

“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy.

“I am sorry. I was just worr-”

“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.”

“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom.

Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him.

“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer that.

Sunday and Monday go in a blur.

You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head.

You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely.

But the bigger part of you is satisfied.

You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore.

But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok.

So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it.

And you feel good about it.

After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today.

Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too.

Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed.

For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands.

Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only.

But bam!

As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-

And your phone rings.

An annoyed groan leaves your lips!

“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself.

But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen.

It’s Hoseok.

You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon.

“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday.

“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.”

“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.”

He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound.

“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down.

“Yeah. Tell me.”

“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….”

“So?”

“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.”

You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.

“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”

“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?”

“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.”

You can feel his smile on the other side of the line.

It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again.

How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him.

When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not.

“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe.

Fuck! Did you overdress yourself?

“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle.

This time, you check him out.

He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer.

Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today.

You chuckle to yourself at the thought.

“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise.

You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.”

“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.”

You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement.

The meeting went smoother than you expected it to.

Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports.

Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot.

She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away.

“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor.

“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.”

“Then we will need to meet them personally.”

“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”

“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him.

The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch.

Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?

“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes.

You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day?

“I don’t think-”

“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you.

“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions.

Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.

He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you.

You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath.

You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation.

Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene.

This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you.

But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen.

Is he being too greedy?

“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead.

“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine.

“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass.

Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are.

Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?”

“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter.

You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier.

“Sua is very tired today.” you whisper.

“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement.

“Do you know why she is tired?”

“Why?”

“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies.

Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever.

“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.

“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore.

“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between.

The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it.

“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly.

Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other.

Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place.

Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency.

He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze.

“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips.

Taglist 1:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

Taglist 2:-

@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut

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ginkgo-phyta · 2 months

Note

Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)

omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P

you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.

jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.

before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.

you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.

you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table

"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.

"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat

"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."

everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.

but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.

A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close.

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy.

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice.

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch.

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face.

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift.

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— koala

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.3k

summary: your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

a/n: i hit 500 followers a few days ago so i just wanted to say how grateful i am for the support! i created this sideblog to share a spur of the moment attempt at writing [prompted by the taste performance] and i didn't expect so much positivity. i definitely wouldn't have given it another go and kept writing more otherwise so thank you so much for letting me know you liked it! hope you like this too!

afab!reader. protected intercourse. jealousy. mutual pining. pet names. chan is very physically affectionate, that's the entire premise of this one, they are friends and its playful but reader is awkward about it! he's grabby and he lies on top of her etc.

You hadn’t grown up in the most affectionate family, your parents loved you—you knew that—but you could count the number of hugs you’d received from them on your fingers. You guessed it was for this reason you couldn’t help cringing away from your clingy roommate. Either he had a very different upbringing or he’d just been unaffected by it because he was probably the most physically affectionate person you’d come across in your life. He’d approach you from behind with no warning when you were brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, cooking, whatever it was. His arms would wrap around you, breath tickling your neck as he asked what you were doing, how your day was or announce he was bored. It was never anything important and definitely nothing that needed to be mumbled into your neck. You’d freeze whatever you were doing, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m obviously doing the dishes,” you’d answer prompting him to give a final squeeze before freeing you—wandering away as you recovered. Recently he’d taken to waking you up in the morning by stumbling into your room and collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. If you were lucky enough to be in a position where he hadn’t pinned your arms under him you’d attempt to shove him off you, often a completely hopeless endeavour. He’d free you when he was ready.

This is where you found yourself now; trapped under him—his face buried in your neck. “I can’t breathe,” you groaned, arms pinned under the covers. One of the unlucky mornings.

“You’re so comfy though, much more than my bed,” his mumbling was barely audible, his voice gruff. It sounded like he’d just woken up and stumbled in here before he’d even fully opened his eyes. You needed a lock on your door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done that yet. Everytime you found yourself under him like this it seemed like your number one priority in life but then he’d climb off and you’d go about your day, letting the idea slip from your mind every time.

“Off. Or I’ll scream,” you announced. Often the only way was to yell in his ear. You didn’t particularly like starting your morning with a high pitched scream so you’d use it as a last resort, just the threat was usually enough—thankfully. He rolled off you with a groan.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

“Mean to you? You just marched in here and crushed me while I was having the best dream.”

“About?”

“Moving out.”

“See? Mean.” He rolled onto his side and grinned at you. “Luckily I know it’s all talk, you’d never leave me—you looovee me.”

“Get out,” you muttered half-heartedly, closing your eyes again. You liked his company. A lot. Despite his clinginess.

You felt the bed move as he sat up. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “I need your help.” You waited for him to elaborate, keeping your eyes closed—still sleepy. “You know more about clothes than me and I’m always wearing the same things so…” He pressed his finger into the middle of your forehead. “Hey, are you listening?”

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, accepting you weren’t getting back to sleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows before speaking, “I was listening.”

“Outfit. I need you to help me pick out an outfit.”

You rubbed your eyes. “For what?” Your roommate couldn’t care less about clothes, everything he wore was black and he’d often walk around the place with hardly anything on at all. If you hadn’t seen his closet yourself you’d easily believe he owned two outfits total.

“A date,” he muttered, eyes fixed on where he was fiddling with the embroidery on your blanket. A date… he didn’t go on dates. Your mutual friends always teased him about his total lack of dating life. You’d been on two entire dates in the last six months and he made you seem like a total socialite. His hand waved in front of your face after you’d apparently failed to respond in an appropriate window of time.

“You’re going on a date?”

“I am capable of finding someone, believe it or not,” he huffed, looking a little wounded.

“I just…didn’t think you were…looking.”

“I wasn’t really…I guess. She just asked me out when I was getting coffee yesterday morning.”

“And you said yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You threw your blankets off and climbed out of bed—stumbling to your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth. He was right. He had no reason not to go on a date. You squirted too much toothpaste on your brush and shoved it under the tap. He’d probably said yes because she was pretty, a pretty girl had spotted him in the coffee shop and worked up the courage to ask him out. It made sense. You shoved the toothbrush in your mouth just as Chan appeared in the doorway.

“So you’ll help?”

You met his eyes in the mirror, he looked nervous—like you might actually say no. You nodded. It took one big step for him to wrap himself around you, mouth pressed to your skin. “Thank you,” he said, clinging to you a little longer than usual.

“Get off or I’ll change my mind,” you mumbled around your toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down your chin. He finished with his customary final squeeze and then he was gone. Leaving you to wonder what she looked like, this coffee shop girl.

“Is it alright that it’s all black?” he asked, fiddling with his collar. You’d put him in one of his long sleeve collared dress shirts and made him tuck it into some black pants with a belt. It was much more dressed up than his usual t-shirt and sweats look.

“Yeah, just…” You reached to unbutton the shirt at his sleeves, rolling them up his arms. Your fingers brushed against his skin as you worked. You felt your cheeks warm. “If you roll these up it works for a day date, I think.” He was quiet as you moved to roll his other sleeve, it was rare for you to initiate any physical contact. You should’ve just told him to do this himself but it’d be awkward to stop now. You stood back when you were done, avoiding looking at his face as you inspected your work. He looked…really good. He turned to look in the mirror and fiddled with his sleeves a little before smiling.

“This is really okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah… yeah it’s okay.” His phone vibrated from where he’d tossed it on the bed, startling you. You grabbed the rejected shirts from the bed to hang them back in his closet while he checked it.

“It’s her,” he said as you distracted yourself with his clothes. “She’s leaving home now apparently.”

“You should go then,” you said, hanging one of the shirts back on a hanger. A hand on your shoulder made you jump. Why the hell were you so jumpy? You hung up the shirt and turned to face him, adopting a neutral facial expression.

“Can I have a good luck hug?” he asked, arms open to receive you.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking?” You couldn’t think of a single time since you’d met when he’d asked you for a hug rather than just attaching himself to you with no warning.

His lips curved up into small smile. “I’m asking.”

“A short one,” you said, unable to resist rewarding him for his unusual behaviour.

He pulled you into his chest, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you. You were used to smelling his body wash when he was draped over you. He never wore cologne. You slowly lifted your arms to pat him lightly on the back. “Good luck then,” you muttered, prompting him to loosen his arms around you. Before you could pull away completely his hand moved up to hold the side of your head and his lips pressed gently to your forehead. You held your breath. He’d never done that before. You took a small step back and gave him a quick smile—failing to meet his eyes. Before he could get another word out you dashed from his room to the safety of your own. You sat on the end of your bed until you heard the front door close, falling back to stare at the ceiling as a heavy silence filled the apartment.

You were struggling to keep your eyes open as you lounged in front of the TV. He’d been gone all afternoon and now it was well past your bedtime. You were working yourself up to accept the fact he probably wasn’t coming home tonight. It must have gone well. You’d been fiddling with your phone all afternoon, contemplating messaging him. What would you say? ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Is she prettier than me?’ ‘Are you going to go back to her place to fuck her?’ ‘When you wrap your arms around her, does she hug you back?’ Hence the phone being buried under the cushion at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. You were delaying going to bed, if you went to bed before he got home, the reality of him sleeping somewhere else—with someone else— would become real. Your eyes were so heavy, it wouldn’t hurt to close them for a little bit…

A warm body pressing you into the couch cushions woke you up, the smell of Chan’s cologne still lingering on his shirt. How long had you been asleep? It was still dark. “What time is it?” you whispered into his ear.

“Just past 12 I think.”

Had he fucked her already? Been to her place and fucked the pretty coffee shop girl before coming back here to press his body onto yours? “Get off,” you said, voice just above a whisper now. He played his usual game, ignoring you. You started squirming. “Chan, get off me,” you put as much assertiveness into your tone as you could. He pushed himself up so his weight was off you completely, hovering over you still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just get the fuck off me.”

He sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under him so he could keep his body turned towards you as you sat up against the arm rest. You pulled your knees to your chest.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked again.

“Where were you?”

“We ended up seeing a late movie, didn't start till 10. I texted you.”

You looked down to the cushion he was sitting on, the one your phone was buried under.

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, standing up. “Can you get up? You’re sitting on my phone.” He reached under himself, swiping around with his hand. He stood up and flicked the light on before resuming his search.

“It’s not here.”

You reached under the couch cushion, digging your phone out to discover you had 3 messages—all from him and sent around 10pm.

“Why is it under there?” he asked, blocking you from moving past him.

“Move.”

“What are you so cranky for, hm?” He went to grab you, like he usually did whenever he pulled you against his chest. You grabbed his wrist.

“Just—” you sucked in a breath. “Will you just fucking move?” you snapped.

He frowned, stepping aside so you could escape to your room—shutting the door a little too hard behind you. Why were you so angry? The thought of him touching you like he usually did after touching her. It felt wrong. You climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. Guilt started leaking into your anger the longer you sulked, morphing it into anxiety. You hadn’t even asked him how it went, if he had a nice time. It was a big deal for him, going on a date. You stared at your phone on your bedside table for a while before giving in and snatching it. You opened the messages he’d sent earlier.

i think your good luck hugs must have magical properties it’s going very well

she complimented my outfit

gonna be home late we’re catching a movie

You climbed out of bed, throwing your phone down onto the mattress behind you. Fuck it. When you opened your door, the lights were all off—he must’ve gone to bed. You’d have to wake him then. You shut your door behind you, again—a little too hard. You marched to his closed door, hesitating with your hand on the doorknob. This was crazy, you were being crazy. Why were you being crazy? You dropped your hand just as the door swung open. Chan stood on the other side wearing only his sweats. He was silent for a moment—looking you up and down before speaking, “Yes?”

Fuck. Think of something not crazy to say. “I-I wanted to know what movie you saw.” Not great.

“Why?”

Why would you wake him up in the middle of the night to ask that? “Just curious.” Stupid.

“At 2am?”

It was 2am? You’d been stewing in your room for two hours. You’d lost it. “Nevermind.” You turned to leave, his hand catching you around the wrist.

“Why do you wanna know what movie I saw? Do you not believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Because you think I fucked her instead.”

You sucked in a breath, studying his face carefully. “Did you?”

He took a step towards you, hand still wrapped around your wrist. “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“No?” He studied your face before slowly pulling you into his room and closing the door behind you. You found yourself pushed up against it, chest first. The wood was cold against the warm skin of your stomach, your small tank top riding up. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I touched her like this?” He traced his fingers up from your wrist slowly. They trailed all the way up your arm to your shoulder where he brushed your hair over your shoulder gently.

“No,” you said again, less convincingly this time—voice a little breathy.

He stepped closer, pressing your body further against the door with his. His lips touched the skin he’d revealed on your shoulder. “I think you’re jealous. I think you're angry with me for touching someone else. Hm? I’m right, aren't I?” You shook your head, breathing shallow. “I didn’t fuck her,” he continued. “We watched a movie, I drove her home and I kissed her goodnight.” You frowned.

“Kissed her?”

His chuckle tickled your skin. “On the forehead,” he clarified.

“Like you kissed me…”

“No, not like I kissed you. That was different.”

You wriggled against him, turning yourself so your back was pressed against the door. He gave you no space to manoeuvre, keeping his body where it was right up against yours—your clothed breasts pressed against his bare chest.

“Why was it different?”

“Because when I kissed her I was being polite.”

“And when you kissed me?” you breathed.

He traced his fingers up your neck, palm coming to a rest against your cheek—his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin. “That was because I love you.”

You held your breath, eyes flicking back and forth between his as you attempted to decipher his meaning. Love…love as in his roommate who he loved as a close friend or…

“You love me, too. Don’t you? I wasn’t sure. Not until tonight,” he continued.

“I-“ Did you love him? You wanted to kiss him. You were upset and you wanted to kiss him, that’s what you knew.

“Mm?” he prompted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. He relented, letting you taste his lips on yours for the first time. You imagined how you’d feel if he had gone home with that girl tonight, if he’d come home the next day and announced he was seeing her again, if he started dating her and you missed your chance. You imagined if you couldn’t have him.

He pulled away, leaving your lips wet. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” your voice was breathy as you panted, no hesitation this time. You attempted to pull him back for another kiss but he resisted.

“Say it.”

You leaned in to kiss each corner of his mouth before pressing your moist lips to his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up.

“Yeah? Even when I smother you?”

“Even then.”

“Can I smother you now?”

“You’re asking?”

“I’m asking.”

You detached yourself from him, ducking under his arms where they trapped you against the door. You crawled into his bed, lying back against his pillows as you approached you. “I’ve never had you in my bed before,” he smirked as he covered your body with his. “You’re always making me walk all the way to yours.”

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“I stubbed my toe on your door frame this morning.”

“Your own fault.”

He took your hands in his and stretched your arms above your head. You’d never held his hand before and now he was holding both as he hovered above you. Your hands were always so cold, his warm palms felt like they were bringing them to life. Sex was never a partcularly intimidate afair for you; you’d never slept with someone you actually cared about—who cared about you. Loved you?

“Do you really?”

“Hm?”

“Love me.”

“You really didn’t know? I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.”

“You-I mean you never said anything…” You wracked your brain for any hints he could have given you. He never said anything, you were sure of it. He would never say anything important when he was draped over you. It was small talk. He was the only one who ever touched you that much but that’s just who he was. You thought that’s just who he was. “You mean all the…physical stuff?” You watched his lips curve up as he hovered over you. You’d had him over you so many times but with your mutual confessions still lingering in the air it felt altogether different.

“Yeah, I mean the ‘physical stuff’.”

“You’re just like that though, you’re… not like me.”

“I’m like that with people I love.”

“Oh…” One of his hands moved to bring your wrists together so he could hold both your hands with one of his. The fingers on his free hand traced your lips, which had fallen open slightly in realisation. “But… you’ve always been like that with me.”

“Mhm.” His fingers traced down your neck to the neckline of your tank top. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“I was sleeping.”

“No you weren’t. You were stewing over me going on a date.”

You ignored his teasing, focused on his gentle tracing across your chest. “Was she pretty?” you asked, watching his face for any clue about his true feelings.

“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he muttered, sounding distracted as he released your hands from above your head. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the hem of your top, his eyes fixed on where your nipples showed through the thin material. You placed your hand over his and guided him up under the hem, dragging his hand up your stomach to cup one of your breasts.

“Soft,” he muttered. You couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Yeah, have you never touched one before?”

“Not these ones.”

“Are they different from the others?”

He ignored your question. “Can I see them? Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You pushed at his chest with your free hand, still feeling a little awkward initiating contact. Ridiculous really considering his hand was cupping one of your tits. He sat back on his heels, hand retreating from under your top at the last possible moment. You took a deep breath before pulling your tank over your head, resisting the urge to cross your arms across your chest the second you tossed it aside. During your previous sexual encounters you’d felt a lot more confident, the knowledge that it was merely a physical exchange; that you didn’t really care what the person thought of you—it made it all much less daunting. You cared what Chan thought of you, a lot. You cared if he thought you were prettier than the coffee shop girl and so sitting there in front of him topless? Terrifying. You watched his eyes take in your bare skin and then just as you were lifting your arms to cover yourself he grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed until you were flat on your back. He covered your body with his, his chest pressing onto yours. You sucked in a breath at his warm skin against your sensitive nipples.

“Always imagined how it’d feel to have you under me like this…” He had you under him like this most days, the only difference was that you were half naked this time. “Do you remember during that heatwave when you were walking around in that little dress?”

You did remember that day. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the power outage meant you were left to cool down with a cold bath and ice cream you’d saved from the freezer. A strappy nightdress—which honestly would probably be better described as lingerie—was all you could bare having against your sticky skin. You remembered it well because that night he’d fallen asleep in your bed, the first and only time you’d actually slept together. You’d woken up with him wrapped around you, your dress riding up between you. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes the rest of the next day. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory.

“You were…more touchy than usual,” you said, avoiding directly referencing the night he’d spent in your bed.

He lifted himself from his elbows to his hands, creating some space between your bare chests so he could see your face. “Was I? I just remember thinking you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.”

You tried and failed to hold back a smile, completely unused to compliments from him at all let alone ones like that. His lips curved up at your reaction and then they were on yours. He thought you were pretty, the prettiest. He loved you and he thought you were the prettiest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you again—a groan escaping him as you did. His lips on yours, your arms around his neck, his warm chest pressed into yours—it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer. He laughed against your lips. “Who’s the clingy one now, hm?”

“More,” you muttered, fingers gripping his hair at the back of his head.

“More?”

“Closer,” you said, desperate now.

“I’m not sure that’s possible, baby.”

You rolled your hips up into him, frustrated by the separation both your shorts and his sweats created. “Take them off. Please.”

“You’ll have to loosen your grip,” he said, giggling a little. He giggled. He giggled while you were desperate for him to take his sweats off and fuck you full. You released him, pulling your shorts down your legs as you watched him take the last of his clothes off. You’d seen his top half plenty, he’d walk around the place shirtless constantly. Anything below the belt? Well, that was new. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard cock as he looked down at you. You still had your underwear on.

“Let me take them off,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where he dug through his bedside drawer. He fished out an unopened box of condoms, tossing them on the bed before he crawled over to you. “Let me,” he repeated, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down your legs. He moved so slowly you were tempted to reach down and finish the job, his fingers brushing along your skin the entire way. When he finally threw them across the room he moved just as leisurely to grab a condom from the box. His eyes were fixed on your cunt as he slowly worked one down his cock, taking pleasure in drawing it out. You tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rush him but getting more and more impatient by the second. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to your ankle, the start of a long trail of kisses he made all the way up your legs. By the time he made it to your cunt you were squirming, desperate again. He pressed one kiss just above your clit and you reached down to grip his arm, attempting to pull him up to you.

“Please….Channie…please…need you closer.”

He moved to hover over you, his mouth a breath away from yours. “How close, baby? Inside? You want me inside you?”

“Please.”

“You’re asking?” he smirked.

You wrapped yourself around him again, arms and legs pulling him down into you. He laughed. “Okay, okay. Just wanted this so long, trying to make it last a little, hm?” He reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself to press the tip against you. “Here? Where do you want me?”

“There…there…” you whined.

He pressed his lips to yours as his tip pushed into you. Closer. You moaned into his mouth. More. When he bottomed out you held him there, legs tightening around him. He was everywhere. He was over you, inside you.

“Don’t let go,” you whispered.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

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onlyhereforthestories · 5 months

Text

No Hay Distancia (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A fic for you all finally. I'm sorry it's taken so long! It is slightly different to how I normally write so I hope it is okay!

The sun had dipped low on the horizon as a warm, golden glow bathed the city of Barcelona from your place on the balcony. It was a beautiful evening, and for you, it marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. You had just moved to this vibrant Spanish city from Seattle, leaving behind your time at OL Reign and starting your new one with FC Barcelona Femení. The change had been exhilarating and intimidating, but the one thing that made all the change worthwhile was the anticipation of finally being with the love of your life, Alexia Putellas.

You and Alexia had met three years ago; your connection was ignited by your shared passion for football. Alexia's mesmerizing skills on the field had drawn you to her instantly and had you almost tripping over your own feet mid-match at the beauty she held. Despite living miles apart, you had managed to build a strong and steady bond. It had been a long-distance relationship full of late-night calls, text messages, and fleeting visits whenever either of your busy schedules allowed. You were another world away, playing as part of the OL Reign team, while she was at her home club of Barcelona, and the time difference often felt like a cruel challenge. Not anymore, though.

The evening was drawing to a close, and you had yet to even start to unpack the many suitcases you had with you, not sure where your belongings belonged in your now shared home. Not only did you have what you had brought on the plane with you, but you also had some storage things coming via courier soon. Something you might not have told Alexia about just yet. Your excitement was building as you started on the first case, although unpacking a case was hard to do when a small dog kept jumping in it. You knew the drawing in of the evening meant that Alexia would be finished with training soon and therefore should be coming home for the first official time to your shared home. You kept glancing at your phone, waiting for Alexia to finish her training session, a session you would be joining soon enough. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Finally, your phone buzzed with a message from Alexia: "Buenas tardes, mi amor. I'm on my way home now. I really can't wait to see you!" You couldn't help the smile and massive bubble of excitement that surged through you at reading that simple message. You had to read the "on my way home" part a couple of times to believe this was your reality.

When you heard the distinct sound of a key scratching into a lock, you practically sprinted to meet her at the door, Nala hot on your heels almost as excited as you were for the woman’s arrival. There she was, Alexia, with her signature smile that could melt anyone's heart but especially yours. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she pulled you into a tight hug. It felt like more than a dream; it felt like a moment you had been waiting for years for was finally happening.

"¡Te extrañé tanto, mi amor!" Alexia whispered, her voice laced with genuine emotion, and you could feel the slight lump in her throat that she swallowed down as she spoke.

"I missed you too, Lex," you replied, tears welling up in your eyes from the memories of saying that countless times over FaceTime or the phone rather than in person. Not only were those tears for that, but they were also for the fact that you wouldn't have to say it that way or as often anymore.

You cherished every second you had right then, soaking her in. This moment felt like your life was finally getting started after being on hold for the few years you had been apart. Your heart ached thinking about the lonely nights you had endured, the longing you had felt when Alexia was on the other side of the world. But now, it was all worth it. The physical proximity made your love feel stronger than ever, making the time spent apart worthwhile.

Over the next few weeks, you explored your new home with Alexia by your side as your very excitable tour guide. You visited famous landmarks, indulged in delicious Spanish cuisine, and shared countless tender moments that you had been waiting to share consistently together for ages. The days of counting the time difference to see what hour of the day your other half was in seemed like a distant memory something you were beyond grateful for.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, Alexia collapses onto the couch completely exhausted. You can't help but smile as you watch her, her passion and dedication to her sport unwavering even on training days.

"Rough day at the office?" You tease knowing full well what her day has been like, yours equally as hard. Although due to you being a defender and her being an attacker, the days of training had been slightly different for each of you.

Alexia chuckles, her voice tinged with fatigue. "You have no idea.” The statement was accompanied by a smirk and a wink one that had you stifling a giggle at her antics. “But it's all worth it when I get to come home with you." The statement has a blush taking over your whole face.

You join her on the couch, snuggling up to her. "I'm proud of you, Lex. You're amazing."

Alexia leans in for a sweet, tender kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours. "And I'm proud of you too. You've adapted to this new life so well."

You smile, feeling a surge of happiness. "It's easy when I have you by my side."

The two of you sat there for a while before you pushed up off her and got to your feet. When you looked back at the woman on the sofa you chuckled at the pout, she was sending your way. “Stop that, someone needs to make dinner and seeing as you almost fell asleep two seconds ago, I think it's going to have to be me.” You sent her a wink before heading to the kitchen.

About 30 minutes later you had plated up the simple chicken and pasta dish into two bowls and wandered back into the living space to give Alexia her bowl. When you walked around the couch you couldn’t help the smile that instantly spread across your face at the sight of the woman sleeping with Nala curled up in the space in front of her chest.

You placed the bowls on the coffee table and gently ran your fingers through the older woman’s hair trying to stir her slowly and gently from her slumber. When that didn’t work and she just sighed contently, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to her hairline brushing a few soft kisses there as you spoke gently but not too quietly. “Come on mi amor time to wake up, you need to eat before we can go to bed properly.”

Alexia's eyes blinked up at you a few times as she slowly came back to the land of the awake. Her legs stretched out as her body shouted at her to get out of the cramped position, this action woke up the sleeping dog who shouted her distaste for being woken up with a sharp bark before leaping off the couch and trotting to her food bowl which you had placed her dinner in before serving your own.

By the time Alexia had sat up, you had both bowls back in your hands and ready to go, your stomach letting Alexia know how ready you were to eat with a rather loud rumble. As she grabbed her plate from you, she teased you the whole evening was very domestic and was one of the first evenings you thought about how far you had come to be here doing just this with the woman.

As the months continue to pass by, your connection with Alexia deepens. You share countless moments that strengthen your bond, from the simple pleasures of waking up together and preparing meals to playing alongside each other on the football pitch. Your love is evolving and growing stronger with each challenge you face and each triumph you achieve together.

Barcelona becomes more than just a city; it becomes your home. Its streets, its people, and its culture all contribute to the love that starts to bloom in your chest when thinking about the city. You explore hidden gems with the people around you, you savour the delicious Spanish cuisine both home-cooked and in restaurants, and you revel in the rich history that surrounds you. You were exploring one of these small gems when Alexia turned to you, her eyes filled with love. "I can't believe you're finally here with me," she said, her voice soft and full of emotion you never thought you would see from the normally strong, stoic woman, not outside of the home anyway.

You smile and take Alexia's hand in yours. "I couldn't be happier here. Being with you is all I ever wanted and I’m so glad we made it work and get to be here in the same place together."

Your lips meet in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing your love in the city where your dreams have come true. No longer does distance stand between you, for now, you're together, and your love will only continue to grow stronger with each passing day.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Alexia settled more into your life together in Barcelona. You found your footing as a new star for the FC Barcelona women’s football team alongside your partner, making connections with your teammates and fitting in perfectly. The routines you and Alexia had created slowly made life in the sunny city run smoothly. If one cooked, the other washed up; if one hoovered, the other did the laundry, and so on. This solidified the decision you made to move thousands of miles away from your original home, making the wonderful connection between you even stronger.

Yet, like any relationship, challenges arose. The demands of your and Alexia's football careers and your joint busy schedules tested your commitment and your time together. The time difference between Barcelona and Seattle had once been a source of frustration, but new challenges required just as much resilience and understanding.

One evening, after a particularly tough practice, Alexia sank into the couch, her face etched with exhaustion. "I can't believe the season is already halfway over. I feel like I have been playing for a year straight already."

You sat down beside her, offering a comforting touch by bringing her into you and letting her rest against your body. "You are doing amazing, Lex. But it is okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes with all the added captain's stress you have going on. I am always here for you."

Alexia leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against the support. "I know, but it is just so hard. Balancing everything—training, matches, the media, and us. I feel like I have been neglecting our time together because I have a promo deal to complete or do an interview for someone. I know we still get evenings, but I am just so exhausted when it comes to them, and I don’t feel like I’m giving you enough."

Understanding the weight of the responsibilities that came with Alexia's position, you reassured her, "You give me all you can at the time and that will always be okay with me. Any time I get with you is perfect and even when that time is limited or maybe even just snuggling up in bed together, it is still time with you. Not too long ago I was only getting to see your face on a screen and now I get to see it in person all the time. I get to fall asleep at the same time as you and wake up to you. So please don’t worry about us, okay? We have got this and will get through it together. I promise."

A few weeks after Alexias confessed to how she was struggling a bit with commitments and time together another hurdle was thrown your way. Your evening was meant to be spent together having a date night at a restaurant you have both been wanting to try but here you were sat with Alexia on the couch in comfy clothes instead, both of you mentally and physically drained from your respective commitments. "I know it's tough, Lex," you began, "but look at how far we've come. We've tackled challenges together before, and we'll do it again. Your dedication is incredible, and I'm so proud of everything you've achieved."

Alexia's tired eyes met yours, filled with gratitude, care and love. "And I'm proud of you, too. You've always been there for me, no matter what. I couldn't ask for a better partner in this journey."

In those moments, the challenges that once seemed insurmountable become stepping stones on your shared path. Your love remains a constant, a light that guides you through the most challenging times. You both know that no matter what the future holds, you have each other's backs, ready to face any obstacles together. The challenges may be different, but your love remains as strong as ever, a bond that continues to grow with every test it faces.

The season has come to a close and you aren’t far off completing your first year in Barcelona when you find yourself and Alexia on the rooftop of your apartment building, the city's lights stretching out before you like a sea of stars. You lean against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view, and Alexia joins you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder so she can look out too but keep you close.

"This city is incredible," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

"It is, but it's even better with you here," Alexia replies, turning her head slightly to press a small chaste kiss against the side of your neck. This prompts you to want more so you turn to face her, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The warm night air and the city's enchanting lights create the perfect backdrop for your love to soar. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but marvel at how far you've come since your first meeting, how much you have both overcome to be here and together nonetheless.

The city's lights continue to twinkle below you, a testament to the vibrant life of Barcelona. As you stand there with Alexia, you can't help but think about how much your lives have changed since that first match, the one where you couldn't take your eyes off her mesmerizing skills and beauty. It's been an incredible journey, one filled with love, passion, challenges and unwavering support for each other.

You turn your attention back to the woman who had you wrapped up in her arms, a radiant smile on your face. "You know, I used to watch Barcelona's games on TV back in Seattle, dreaming about being here and playing with you. Now, it's all come true."

Alexia grins, her eyes shining with pride. "Dreams do come true, mi amor. I'm so glad you're living yours and that it matches perfectly with mine."

The night is still young, and the possibilities seem endless. With your hands entwined and resting on your stomach, you both look out at the city knowing that your life together was just beginning. You can’t help but feel grateful for the journey that has brought you to this moment here, for the love you get to experience and for Barcelona that has become the backdrop to the next chapter in your life. A life you know will be filled with love, football, and the promise of a future with the woman you have loved for a long time from afar.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part eighteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: hiii posting this early bc bestie and i are ab to start a 24 hour readathon! if i'm not active for the next day, that would be why. anyway wish us luck!! also i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i should have so i'm sorry lol

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You called out of work indefinitely, after that. You didn't want to quit, you wanted to love your job and you honestly couldn't see yourself doing anything else but right now, you just couldn't. Luckily, the girls who worked down at the library were incredibly understanding according to Lennox, who was sent to deliver your letter of leave and apology.

It had been close to a week when you finally ventured out to the back porch to read rather than rotting in bed all day staring at the ceiling. Your mother made you tea, and insisted she come sit with you. You enjoyed the company.

"Would you like to talk about it?" She asks, just as you're turning the page. Under normal circumstances, you'd resort to Romeo and Juliet, but now you feel like you couldn't stomach it. So, Much Ado About Nothing would have to suffice.

"I'm okay, Ma." You say softly, giving a slight shake over your head as your eyes fly over the faded lettering on the page.

"Lennox told us what happened, you know." She adds after a beat of silence.

You look up at her, frowning. "I'm sorry. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"Don't be, dear." She shakes her head quickly, gently resting a hand on your thigh. "I wish you had told us. I wouldn't have invited him in that day, I could have told you he stopped by and we could have made a plan. I shouldn't have sprung that on you."

You sigh, pursing your lips and closing your book. "I didn't want you to dislike him, that's why I didn't tell you. I thought... I wanted to come home with at least something positive to talk about. And I thought that if I gave it enough time, thinking positively about him, I could try to contact him without seeing... that."

She smiles sadly at you. "You really love him, huh?"

"How could I not?" You admit quietly, staring at the cover of the book on your lap. "He was the first person there to show me kindness, to make me feel like I wasn't alone." You explain. "It felt... Like Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers, because of course I didn't think I could really have him. I was living in a dream, in a way."

"And now?" She prompts you to continue, thrilled that you are finally opening up.

"Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."

She chuckles, gently rubbing your leg. "So that's a yes, then."

"How I wish it was not." You groan, reaching for your cup to drown your predicament in tea.

"Your brother," She sighs, gently removing the book from your lap. "came home that night just... just shaking with anger. And he looked me and your father in the eyes and said he was going to kill Coriolanus. He was set on it." She explains, and you look at her.

"He said that?" You ask, and she nods.

"I could see it in his eyes, he meant it, and we were so confused. Because, after all, it had been Coriolanus and Sejanus who came to the door seeking help for you, and your father told me Coryo looked like a ghost- bless him." She chuckles slightly.

"What I mean is... Your brother is not immune to violence, either. He would hurt someone for you, I know it. Just because you don't wish him to, doesn't mean he doesn't love you so much that he would do anything." You mull over her statement, chewing passively on your lip. "And boys... boys just do things differently than you and I would. Or Lucy Gray would. I bet if you asked her about Billy Taupe, Tam Amber, or little Clerk Carmine, that she'd tell you they've all had their moments. But boys aren't treated fair in this life, so sometimes, they don't fight fair."

"Coriolanus killed someone, Ma."

"Why?" She asks. "Lennox told me you saw it. Why did he kill that boy?"

"Because..." You shake your head. "He was trying to kill him, first."

"Okay, well-"

"But that I can understand, given the circumstances." You quickly explain, guilt settling in your stomach like a weight as you put your mug back down. "It was after. Bobbin had so clearly already passed on, and he hit him again. It was anger, and it was not necessary. A waste of precious time he didn't have but he did it anyway and that... that scared me."

She hums, listening to you intently. "If it helps, dear, and this is my honest feelings... I still think he is a good man, with a good heart." She says. "I know what you've seen is... gosh, it's unfathomable, and I wish I could take that pain from you, but I really do think that if you still feel anything for him you should talk to him."

Your eyes snap up to hers, and you look scared.

"I've only met him once, but gosh, the way he looks at you, and how he spoke about you, he thinks you put the stars in the sky." She grins, trying to relax you by taking your hand. "No problems have ever solved by hiding. And even if you turn out to be correct, that he's never been who you thought he was, you'll get peace by having answers. And even so, he deserves that peace too."

"I... I'll think about it." You nod softly, reaching for your book again.

"Hello? Boys?" Lucy Gray calls out, walking into the small house Coryo and Sejanus have been occupying.

"In here!" Sejanus calls back, and she follows his voice into the small kitchen where he's attempting to make something to eat.

"Ooh, what's for lunch?" She asks, sitting herself down at the dining room table.

"Eggs... I think." Sejanus laughs. Lucy Gray had been coming by to try and keep them company, and she did really like spending time with Sejanus. Coryo didn't have a whole lot to say, though.

"Yum." She giggles, sitting up straight to look into the pan. "Where's Coriolanus?"

"Guess."

"On the back porch staring at the trees?"

"Pretty much."

Lucy Gray sighs, pushing herself up. "Okay, well, The Covey and I are going to the lake tomorrow. It's a hike out, but it's beautiful. You guys should come."

"I'll be there, but I don't know if we can convince blondie." Sejanus nods toward the back door.

"Oh, I'll convince him." She smiles smugly, brushing past him and out the door.

Lucy Gray finds out quickly that apparently she had guessed wrong- he was sitting on the porch, like he had been every day, but today he was reading rather than just staring out at the mountains. "What are ya readin'?" She asks, standing in front of him.

"Nothing that's any of your business." He grumbles, not looking up from the pages of the worn down book.

She leans over him, attempting to read it upside down. "Ah." She grins. "Romeo and Juliet? Good choice."

"What do you need, Lucy Gray?" He asks, closing the book and glaring up at her.

"I've come to extend and invitation to you, we're all going to the lake tomorrow. I think you should come."

"No, thank you."

She rolls her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. "You didn't chop off all those beautiful gold curls just so you could never see Y/N again, did you?"

His eyes visibly brighten at that, only for a moment. "She's going?" This was the chance he was waiting for. He intended to go to your house that following morning, maybe pick up flowers on the way, a book, or some kind of peace offering, but Sejanus and Lucy Gray shut that down very quickly. Even though he cut his hair almost as soon as he got back to this dump they called a house, they said you still needed time.

"Mhm." Lucy Gray nods, smiling at him knowingly. "She hasn't been working, so I was able to book her for the day."

Had Lucy Gray talked to you about this yet? No. But she knew it would do him some good to get away from this house for a day, whether you were there or not, and she knew that deep down you would want to see him again. A group setting was the best way to do this for everyone. She knew he would be easy to convince, but getting you to agree would be the hard part.

"Okay, okay yeah. I'll come." Coryo nods, looking down. He doesn't know what to do with himself, but he feels like he should be doing something to prepare somehow.

"She's still... sensitive. So be nice."

"I have never not been nice to her."

"Never said you have." Lucy Gray raises an eyebrow at him. "I meant be careful. She may not want to talk to you. I won't tell her you're coming so I can at least get her out the door."

"Why not?" Coryo asks, immediately knowing how stupid that sounds when Lucy Gray lets out a laugh. "I mean, I don't want to scare her off, so she should know. Please be honest with her." He pleads.

Lucy Gray's eyes soften at that. "Okay, you're right. But I'm not tellin' you if she says no. You still have to come." She points at him and he sighs.

"Okay, whatever. Sure."

"You're both just rotting and making it worse for yourselves. You need to get out." She says as she walks back inside, leaving him alone to read.

Coryo smiles to himself as he picks the book up again, continuing where he left off even though he's already read it five or six times.

"You're gonna be fine just fine, Y/N/N. I promise." Lucy Gray assures you as you walk down the path toward the forest where the Covey and Sejanus were waiting. With Coryo.

"I won't let him near ya." Lennox adds, kicking a rock aside as he walks in front of you and your friend.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. If you want space, tell him. I talked to him about this. He knows not to push you." Lucy Gray whispers to you and you nod, teeth digging into the softness of your cheek.

"I know." You say quietly, arm wrapped around hers. You loved going to the lake, and you've been a couple of times since you've been back, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't hesitant to bring him with you. If it goes poorly, you don't know if you could ever go back.

"Yeah, I gave him a stern talkin' to. Put the fear of god in him, he'll be on his best behaviour." She giggles.

"You didn't actually scare him, did you?" You laugh nervously.

"Of course I did." She says, but you know she's just joking.

"Is Billy Taupe coming?" You ask her after a moment.

Your friend wrinkles up her nose and shakes her head. "No, lord, no." She chuckles. "He's off with that Mayfair. Real class act, they are."

You giggle, squeezing her arm. You take it as they're broken up, at least for now. "I'm sorry, Lucy Gray." You add and feel her shrug under your grip.

"I'm done with him this time." She tells you, shaking her head. "I can't trust him no more."

"One foot in sea and one on shore." You comment and she looks at you, a smile pulling on her lips as she gently pulls you closer, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Y/N!" Maude Ivory greets the two of you first, running up and throwing her arms around your waist. You jump slightly at the sudden contact, making every effort to catch her with nothing more than a slight gasp and a smile. "I've missed you!"

"Hello, dear." You chuckle, running your hands over the length of her blonde hair. "It's only been a couple of weeks, and you do know where to find me."

"Your friend has a gift for you, come on." She grins, letting you go only to grab your hand and pull you up the rest of the hill.

When Coryo sees you, his instinct is to push his hair back out of his face. That can't happen, so he settles for shifting on his feet and gripping the flower he's holding in his hand as you avoid his gaze and he avoids your brothers. Of course you would hide from him- he doesn't fault you for it. You were nervous, he could tell. And of course Lucy Gray neglected to tell him that Lennox was coming, though, he understood why.

He just wished you were angry at him. That would be far preferable to you being afraid.

"Y/N, hi." Sejanus greets you and you smile at him, giving a quiet wave as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. You packed your book and a blanket with some cherries you picked from the tree behind your house to share with everyone. You can see in your peripheral vision that Coryo has gotten a haircut, but you can't bring yourself to look at him just yet. Or comment on it.

"Alright, let's get movin'! The sun is only up for so long." Lucy Gray claps, not forcing you to have to say hi to Coriolanus before she's urging the group on.

Coryo looks at you as everyone else starts walking, and you nod through everyone to go ahead of you. You hate the idea of having people behind you that you can't see.

Then, finally, your eyes land on him. He smiles, hoping you would want to walk with him.

"Go ahead." You say softly, quickly looking up ahead and Lennox has stopped to wait for you.

"Oh, uh, this is for you." Coryo takes a step closer, holding the yellow daisy out to you that he picked on the walk out. Apparently, you didn't want to walk with him- you just didn't want him behind you. That was a thousand times worse.

You look down at it for a moment, reminding yourself quickly to take it instead of just staring. "Thank you." You reply quietly, delicately plucking the flower from his hold.

"Yeah, of course." He grins, not wanting to give up your attention just yet. "I... I'm really glad you agreed to come."

"It'll be nice. The lake is beautiful." You tell him, glancing over at your brother.

"Come on!" He calls out, impatient. "They're gonna leave us in the dust."

You hold back a sigh as you feel Coryo's eyes on you. You guess you will be walking with him, after all. "Coming!" You smile at him.

It's fine- he's fine. He won't hurt me.

You look up at Coryo, and his eyes are still on you. "Shall we?" He grins, gesturing to the path ahead of you.

Okay, he looks normal. His eyes are normal. Blue, sky blue. Gentle.

"Let us go." You grin at him, holding tightly onto the strap of your bag as it rests across your chest. You look back down at your feet as you walk, mindful of the roots and sticks that may trip or scratch you. You spare a glance at his feet as he joins your side on the narrow path.

Lucy Gray knew that even with her warning that Coryo would likely corner you, but she kept a close eye on you even from up ahead while she talked to Sejanus and practically dragged Lennox along with them so he would give you at least a little bit of space.

You walk in silence for a long time. The trees get thicker as you separate from the meadow and the town, isolating you only further, but you didn't feel unsafe. Not really.

Coryo would take what he could get, but he had to try to talk to you eventually. When he planned out this trip in his head the night before they were set to board the train, he had hoped that the days and nights would be spent together. That you'd say you understood, that you were happy and okay and yes! You would love to take him to the lake you frequented, just the two of you, and 'Oh, we should bring a picnic and just spend the whole day there. It will be so much fun!' And he'd get to see your smile without it quickly fading and he could hold your hand and get that second kiss that he never thought he would receive and everything would be perfect.

He never considered himself much of a dreamer, but something about you made that change. After he got to feel his lips on yours, then on the soft skin of your shoulder and his hands on your waist or locked in yours, there was no going back. He was all yours.

"So," He starts talking after only about an hour of walking. You were almost there, so you took a sharp breath in. You could talk for forty minutes. You could do it. And you wanted to, you remind yourself. "This is quite a hike, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes." You nod. "But we aren't far out now. It's worth it, I promise." You say, eyes still locked on the ground just in front of you.

"Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful walk, just... long." He comments. "And lots of bugs."

"Yes..." You chuckle nervously.

"What's it like?" He asks, desperate just to continue to hear your voice,

"The lake?" You ask, risking a look up at him. His lips form into a smile and he nods, urging you on. "Well," You swallow, trying to organize every detail you remember from last summer, before the games. "The water is very blue, and quite clear. There's a dock, we have the most fun jumping off of it."

Coryo watches your expression intently, trying to inhale every word. You pause, and your face lights up with remembered joy. "My Pa put a rope swing up here for us kids when we were young, and a few summers ago I went to take it- I climbed as far back up as I could before jumping. Then, I felt the branch jerk and I grabbed it tighter, it ended up wrapped around my leg on the way down and I got stuck." You recall the injury, but you're almost laughing. "I got this massive red burn all up the inside of my thigh, and then Lennox ripped the thing down." You giggle, and Coryo swallows. "He was joking, just pretending to even though it was my own fault, but the branch broke clean off and me and Lucy Gray tried to jump out of the way and ended up falling straight into the water."

He laughs with you at that, shaking his head. "Well, I hope your leg wasn't serious." He watches you and you're quick to shake your head.

"No, gosh no." You giggle. "Not worth pulling the whole thing down over, but it wouldn't have been kind to the next kid who swung- that's for sure. So it was probably for the best."

"Fair enough." He shrugs, eyes still glued onto you.

"I'd rather get a burn then have that big ol' thing fall on Maude Ivory or CC. They were just little at the time." He nods. That sounds just like you.

"So you've been friends for a long time, I take it?"

"Well, yes. Since they got stuck here, pretty much."

"Stuck here?" Coryo asks, looking up ahead at the group that was still just within sight.

You look up as well, just to make sure they weren't in earshot. "The Covey isn't District." You explain, voice lowered. "They used to travel everywhere to perform, but then when they got here peacekeepers rounded them up. Executed all their parents, and the kids got stuck here." You tactically leave out the part about his father being the commanding officer at the time.

"Oh."

"I think that's why Lucy Gray can't get over Billy Taupe." You add quietly, watching your friend as she laughs with Sejanus up ahead. "He's one of them, they have so much history. They're on and off, but she'll never abandon him. Not when they've been through so much together. They're the oldest- they've had to take care of the rest of them for almost their whole lives."

Coryo doesn't know what to say. "That's... yeah. I can imagine it would be hard to move on when they're so tied to each other."

You hum in agreement. "Anyway, we met when they were begging outside the market. They set their instruments up and were playing for tips just so they could eat, so my parents stopped and invited them for dinner. They've been with us ever since."

"Your parents are really good people." He comments.

You look up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I told you that, didn't I?"

"Well, you told me they weren't rebels. That doesn't mean they're saints." He jokes.

"Feels like anyone less than a saint these days is considered a rebel for one reason or another." You argue, but there's no harshness at all behind your tone.

"Regardless, your parents are safe." He says, hoping that you've forgotten about his father being a peacekeeper general.

"Well, thank you." You laugh slightly, shaking your head. "How is Tigris, by the way? And your Grandmother? Have you spoken to them since you've been away?"

"I've called a few times, yeah. They're doing well." Coryo smiles. "Tigris is taking some time off, she's working on some different projects at home."

"I'm glad to hear that." You smile. "They must be missing you."

"So they say, yeah." He chuckles.

"It's hard to be away from home." You tell him. "I know it all too well."

His smile drops steadily, but he just nods. "Yes. At least I have the guarantee of returning."

You try so hard to steer every conversation you have away from the games, but it never seems to work. People have so many questions, so many comments, and it's a shame that Coryo is no exception. You suppose that was inevitable. He's one of very few people who somewhat know what you went through.

You really wish you had met him some other way.

"I'm sorry." He quickly apologizes, sensing your shifted energy. "That was... I shouldn't have said that."

"No, no. It's okay." You insist. "I just... Everyone wants to talk about it all the time. I can't escape it."

"I should have known better. I'm sorry." He says again, taking in a deep breath. "I wanted to be different. I try so hard to not make you think about it and I should have remembered that before I said anything, I just-"

You shake your head, frowning as you look up at him. "I wouldn't expect you to." You tell him. "If I'm honest, you're the one person I think I am okay with discussing it with."

Coryo has to fight back the smile threatening to pull at his cheeks from the relief. You weren't planning on never talking to him again. This was a great sign. He opens his mouth to speak when he hears shouting from up ahead.

"We made it!" Lucy Gray cheers, and sure enough, he can see the lake appearing through the trees.

"Coryo, you gotta see this!" Sejanus's voice follows.

"We made it." You smile, happy to change the subject. "Come on, the water is going to feel so good."

Then, you're jogging up ahead of him and pulling your bag off to leave on the dock.

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averageallogene · 9 months

Note

Resubmitting because my WiFi weirded out when I was posting.

Jean convinces Diluc to dump you for her, because you are, in her own words, 'Not noble enough'.

With nothing holding you back in Mondstadt, you return to Inazuma to take up your Clan duties.

Less than a year later, you receive Diluc and Jean's wedding invite and you attend with Ayato as your plus-one.

At the reception, Eula instantly recognizes your Clan crest on your obi belt.

Jean proceeds to mock you as she makes her rounds to greet her wedding guest and Eula defends you, stating that your Clan is the overseer of the Tri-Commission *and* the First Clan of Inazuma, out-ranked only by the Raidan Shogun and Yae Miko. And you are its Clan Head.

Diluc ♡⊹˚ Not Enough (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst. cw for jealousy, heartbreak. Implied Ayato x reader.

4k words.

notes. Alright I am back with a bag of piping hot telenovela drama! I had a lot of fun writing this, even if I fear my Jean and my Diluc turned out a little ooc? Oh and Ayato is a petty menace. Well, suffice to say I took some liberty with this one- I hope we can just slide past through it and I’ll get better at their portrayals eventually <3. Enjoy!✧˖°

The tranquility of Mondstadt, accompanied by the welcomed breezes it brought daily, was enough for anyone to fall in love with the country. The land of the Anemo Archon was blessed with peace, as well as a beauty to behold as its people were one of the most welcoming [F/N] had ever come across. It had been enough to compel her to stay a little longer when she’d begun traveling around Teyvat, with it bringing something more that urged her to remain there.

Diluc Ragnvindr, an otherwise very well known bachelor of Mondstadt, had certainly caught her eye. The feeling seemed to have been mutual, for [F/N]’s appearance and Inazuman style of clothing definitely stood out amongst the usual crowd. It had begun friendly enough, the winery tycoon seeking information regarding the Inazuman palette when it came to alcoholic beverages. Of course, as a businessman Diluc had plans of expanding to other nations, with or without vision hunt decrees meddling in the middle. During that time, [F/N] had remained in Mondstadt, visibly stressed with the fate of her country. Thankfully, she had a friendly shoulder to rely on on the same wealthy bachelor. It turned out Diluc wasn’t all appearances, his very being burning with a gentleness that was enough to swoon the young woman off her feet.

[F/N] was far from her family during said time, and exchanging letters was difficult. She’d never been exactly too open when it came to them, yet no one wished to pry. With the borders closed, she had next to no possibility of returning without possibly being detained, regardless of status. War reeked with personal vendettas after all, and to someone of high status as herself, many would indeed covet to take what was hers amidst the chaos. Unbeknownst to her, it had been these early signs of trouble that had helped her in convincing her father of letting her seek out the world whilst she could, sending his only daughter off to the land of the free before she too were to be caged down by duties and unfortunate circumstances.

Homesickness was terrible, but thankfully she had Diluc to aid her. Together they’d spend time together, whether that was in Angel’s Share as the bustling tavern closed its doors for the night, or whenever he offered her to have a tranquil walk through the Dawn Winery. His estate had quickly become one of her favorites, the scenery and the sound of the rustling leaves bringing an inner peace strong enough to temporarily wash away her worries. With the more time they spent together, they found more in common that they had, including dreams, plans for the future, even hobbies. It wouldn’t be difficult to find the pair reading by the fireplace, or even discussing various topics while enjoying a game of chess, hence many murmurs of Diluc’s sweetheart beginning to circle throughout Mondstadt.

Still, he was a traditional man when it came to such affairs. Diluc was one to take things slowly, yet it was more than noticeable the way he held her hand gently, the way he’d open doors whenever they arrived somewhere, the way his hand would linger on her lower back as they walked through the streets. It wasn’t as though they were official yet, but to [F/N], it was more than apparent she was being courted. And truth be told, her heart couldn’t leap any higher. Sadly, her expectations would come crashing to the ground, coincidentally just as the climax of the vision hunt decree took place miles away in Inazuma.

Diluc had grown hesitant, a little distant even. He was a man to remain firm in his beliefs, yet with the right approach and from the right people, even the most determined man could falter. He’d told [F/N] of stories of his childhood, of happier times when his father was around, of times he and Kaeya got along well. Of times he had friends over at the winery, when his mind would only be preoccupied with fantasies he’d construct with his friends at the height of their innocence. [F/N] had listened to him happily, content with the idea of him having a good childhood, of having good friends. Good friends such as Jean Gunnhildr. [F/N] had noticed the way her glance would sparkle at him, yet they were only friends he’d reassured her, and it would’ve definitely seemed as such before it no longer did. The young lady wasn’t ignorant; the way Jean eyed Diluc paralleled the way she did as well, yet she had confidence in the chance she had with him until he’d taken the first step backwards.

He’d been calm, gentle with her upon shooting her down. His heart was murky, he had too many responsibilities. He had a lot to take care of between his tavern and his winery, as well as other responsibilities she wasn’t aware of. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit, and he was most sorry for leading her on. [F/N]’s heart broke with the way she was shot down, yet she gracefully smiled still, thanking him for his honesty. Even though she was the one being rejected, the woman placed a friendly hand on his arm, ensuring there were no harsh feelings, as well as wishing him the very best. Wishing that he soon find himself, reassuring that she would always support him. The urge to cry was strong, more so with the way his often gentle gaze shifted away from her. Yet, [F/N] persevered, pushing back any theories her mind crafted as the man she’d grown to love was swept away from her fingers.

A gut feeling whispered to her that Jean had been the instigator, yet with no concrete proof, [F/N] was left out in the rain as Mondstadt grew less and less picturesque. The winery didn’t feel welcoming anymore, the once bustling streets of the main city were now noisy instead of charming. The mere sight of the crest of the knights of Favonius irked her, for it reminded her of the woman she knew was the reason Diluc had grown distant. In all her years of education back in Inazuma, [F/N] had grown to know when a rival struck through the shadows. She’d grown to realize the subtle signs, yet she’d held on faith for her beloved’s friend. It had proved futile, and now, bitterness replaced the fondness she’d held for the city of freedom.

[F/N] held a letter that had finally reached her from her home country, bags being packed by the few escorts that had arrived to retrieve her. She’d arranged for them to only move at night, lest she wished to have unwanted attention on her as well as the Inazuman samurai her bedridden father had sent for her. Her duties ripped her out of her wishes to remain in Mondstadt, reality beckoning her back as her dreams were left behind with a broken heart, swept by the breeze.

Ironically enough, Kaeya, of all people, had been the only one to notice her that night. There was the faint scent of wine on him, yet he was still sober enough to have a coherent speech. He’d waited for her by the city walls, a small expression of regret as he inquired if she really had to go. The relationship between the brothers was brittle to say the least, yet Kaeya would’ve been a fool to deny how Diluc seemed happy with her. How he liked seeing his brother happy. The Cavalry Captain voiced his wish for her to stay, explaining how he enjoyed her company, how Mondstadt did. It stung [F/N], yet with a sad smile, she told him she couldn’t stay even if she wished to. And without explaining further as to why she had to leave, Kaeya suddenly let out with a bitter chuckle.

“Is it because Jean sees you as not noble enough? I can assure you [F/N], no one here really cares for such superficial reasoning.”

It had struck a chord in her, for her suspicions were confirmed. All of this heartbreak had stemmed because [F/N], no matter how hard she tried, would never be one of them, the children of the wind. She was from the land of lightning, and apparently to some, appreciating and learning of their history wasn’t as good enough as being directly related to it. Her hands grasped her coat tightly, and with a curt response of how it was due to other things, she’d thanked Kaeya for everything before leaving the city in the middle of the darkness.

The voyage back to Inazuma had been long, but even more so bittersweet. She’d just arrived in time to say a final goodbye to her father, too sick to even get up from his bed as he held her hand one last time. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, yet he was too weak to inquire on who was the monster to hurt his beloved daughter. All he could say was that the future of their clan lay now on her hands, the pressure nearly suffocating her. Amidst the conflict with the vision hunt decree, her eldest brother, who’d sided with the rebellion in secret, had been murdered, his drink poisoned. And even as justice had been served, life needed to move on, leaving the seat of Clan Head now to her.

Days in Inazuma were vinegary. Her homecoming had been filled with heartache, having lost her brother, and soon after her father as well. Days, weeks, months, they all passed in a blur, [F/N] focusing on the heavy task of overseeing the tri-commissions as she donned her clan’s crest with pride.

Not noble enough, it kept repeating inside her head every day, every time she put her obi on. The young woman hated to admit it, but the pettiness of it all had become her drive, fueling her as she surpassed her father in more aspects than one. In a short amount of time, she’d proved herself as a worthy ruler of her clan, an iron fist masked with elegance and grace as her name grew more and more respected by all the other clans.

Despite her secluded life filled with responsibility, as well as her still distrusting heart, [F/N] allowed very few people in. She could count her friendly acquaintances with solely one hand, but amongst them were the Kamisato siblings. Businesses aside, they were able to lay down their crests for an afternoon every once in a while, enjoying each other’s company over finely brewed tea as they watched the sunset together, recounting stories to one another as time flew by during such leisure moments.

It had been during one such rare occasion, that [F/N] found herself enjoying tea with Kamisato Ayato, his sister busy with her own set of duties whilst the Commissioner took a much needed break. His trained eye could see how she was tense, eyes lowered as they remained narrowed with a bitterness he’d known all too well. Gently, he’d inquired if all was well, and with a quick glance, [F/N] debated if she should burden the already busy head of the Yashiro Commission with her petty bickering.

“You should know by now that I’m not one to ask things out of courtesy, [F/N].” Ayato had calmly stated, an enigmatic smile dancing on his lips as she took a sip of her tea. “I’m genuinely inquiring about your well-being, for I do in fact care. So please, if something is troubling you, do not hesitate to say.”

And with a heavy sigh, the woman placed her cup down, before finally coming clean. From her large sleeve she revealed to him a sealed letter, one with a wax stamp of nothing more than the Ragnvindr clan displayed on it.

“It seems one of my acquaintances back in Mondstadt is about to get married, and has decided to invite me to his wedding.” Ayato hid his grin of amusement with the way she spat the word acquaintance with such distaste. It was enough for him to have an inkling of what could’ve transpired during her stay in the land of the Anemo Archon. “I suppose it’s his way of voicing his wish of letting bygones be bygones, but I cannot help but taste the sweet irony of it all.”

“Oh? Has he, perchance, hurt you deeply?” He’d inquired, watching as she lowly nodded her head.

“I was under the assumption he’d been courting me,” [F/N] revealed to her friend, remembering the way her heart clenched upon first reading its contents. The fact he was marrying after such little time apart, and to Jean no less, still filled her broken heart with such indescribable bitterness. “But then… Nevermind. I was needed to return, regardless. One way or another, it would’ve ended in tragedy.”

“My deepest condolences.” Ayato spoke softly, his hand gently resting atop hers before holding it cordially. “Do you intend on skipping the wedding? Just know there is no shame in doing what’s best for you.”

“I’ve thought about it.” She sighed, holding his hand back with a thankful squeeze. “Yet, I can’t bring myself to shut him off entirely either. He was, after all, someone who had helped me a lot during my stay in Mondstadt.”

“Ah yes, the heart is a most complex little thing…” Ayato breathed out, a faint smile on his face as he offered her an understanding glance. “When is it taking place?”

“In about three months.” [F/N] had nearly sulked, still glaring at the letter as if her sheer glance could burn the whole thing. Ayato had simply nodded, before insisting she take a little longer to reflect on what would be best for her.

In truth, Ayato decided to free up his schedule for three months into the future. Not only could he be a little petty when it came to his own allies, he truly did care for the well-being of his friend. In all honesty, perhaps it was best he didn’t know the full details of how she’d been shot down, lest he make an even bigger, yet still elegant, ruckus. In the end, he’d offered his company were she to decide on going to the celebration, and against all odds, [F/N] had accepted. With Ayato by her side, the young woman felt a sudden surge of confidence. Perhaps it was the idea of her being accompanied by a kind, and well accomplished man, that had her feeling that way.

And with her confirmation letter being sent with the intent on bringing a plus one, time was the only thing between [F/N] and her return to Mondstadt. Diluc was surprised she’d accepted, but he couldn’t deny he was happy. In all honesty, he truly wished for them to start over, for her friendship was deeply valued to the man. Jean on the other hand, was a little flabbergasted she’d accepted. To her, it had solely been a courtesy to send an invite, yet she’d be lying if she hadn’t predicted her decline of attending their wedding. Despite the slight disappointment, the Lionfang Knight was already stressed as it was; perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, and prepare for their big day as best as she could.

The day for their voyage had arrived, and true to his word, Ayato accompanied her on their ship. Everything had been prepared, their duties being fulfilled by others for the duration of their trip. It was a much needed breath of fresh air, a small vacation he’d joked, smiling with eloquence even when he wasn’t one to enjoy large group gatherings. He’d insisted that he and [F/N] both dress in their finest clothing, for they were representing their Clans on foreign lands, and by extension, representing Her Excellency as well. Their crests displayed proudly on their clothing, made of the finest silks and brightest tones, arms linking together as [F/N] held her fan to her lips as they finally disembarked at the docks.

Ayato had surely made a statement with the entire entourage he’d organized for the two of them, it almost seemed as though he indeed knew of what had been the reason given for their breakup. Then again, [F/N] thought, perhaps he did know. Ayato was a man of many means after all, who was to say he hadn’t read her bitterness like an open book? The way [F/N] looked at him smiling in that knowing way of his didn’t help her case, either… Well, it was too late to go back, anyway.

The way they’d arrived on Mondstadt had certainly caused an uproar, citizens watching in curiosity as the samurai escorted them to the hotel where they would stay until the day of the festivities. Most of the Knights of Favonius were busy as per usual, away from their arrival save for the guards stationed at the city gates who had warmly welcomed them upon confirming their identities and the purpose of their visit. Gossip was quick to follow, yet Ayato paid no mind, calmly chatting away with [F/N] as they were led to their rooms.

News of wealthy guests from the east reached the couple’s ears, yet neither Diluc nor Jean paid much mind. After all, Diluc had many wealthy acquaintances, most of them stemming from his businesses within the wine industry. All he cared for was to ensure all their confirmed guests had indeed arrived, including [F/N]. And upon being told she had in fact, he only nodded his head, not inquiring any further. Him and his bride were much too busy making the final preparations after all, and unbeknownst to him, Kaeya only watched in the background, an amused grin on his face as he patiently waited for the big show.

The bells rang with vigor on the big day, [F/N] jolting inside her room as she wasn’t exactly used to the way their Church would announce anything so loudly. Ayato had already finished preparing, smiling her way before offering his help in adjusting her obi.

“You look positively beautiful.” He’d stated in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as she smiled at him with an honest, thankful gleam. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” She had sighed, nodding her head as she inwardly psyched herself up to go forth with the day. And without much issue, the pair left their hotel and made haste for the sight of the ceremony.

Amidst the sea of guests, their presence had gone mostly unnoticed. It was best as such, [F/N] gazing ahead as she watched the man who she’d once thought would be the one marry another woman. Her heart still clenched slightly at the reality, yet Ayato’s presence helped her in grounding herself as she took a deeper breath. Her arm remained around his, admiring how beautiful they looked, how happy they gazed at one another. Even if Jean forever held a deep stain in her eyes, she couldn’t deny how radiant and gorgeous she looked in her wedding gown. The warm glow of the church veiled around them in a romantic manner, the union finally being tied as the main ceremony came to a close. For the first time in a while, [F/N] found herself smiling at the sight of Diluc with another. Perhaps, she thought, she would eventually get through this. Even if it still hurt, even if she still thought back on how she hadn’t been enough.

Customs between Mondstadt’s weddings and Inazuma’s weddings differed, yet she and Ayato found themselves easily following along as everyone moved on to the reception. It was during this time that the guests began conversing more freely with one another, finally having a look around as they noted who had come to support the happy couple, who had come with whom. It was during this time that [F/N] could feel eyes on her, glances of surprise to herself and her partner being shared as she commented on how the food was delightful with Ayato.

“Is that… [F/N]?” Eula had commented with Kaeya, who had nodded his head with an amused grin on his face. Despite the elaborate way she dressed when in comparison with the way she did when she had stayed in Mondstadt, nothing could escape her eye as a noble herself. “She looks radiant. And the man beside her…”

[F/N]’s voice could be heard not far, Ayato relishing in the way his comment had brought a laugh out of her. He patted himself on his back for having gotten the willpower to deal with such a packed event, for the way his friend seemed more relaxed had been more than worth it in his eyes. They kept on chatting together, a select few female acquaintances of [F/N]’s joining them as they soon found more company to converse with.

“[F/N]! It’s been so long… How have you been?”

“You look amazing, [F/N]! I heard you’ve returned to Inazuma suddenly, is everything alright?”

“Who’s your friend there, [F/N]?” Followed with a knowing wink, causing the woman to blush before denying their accusations any further.

Despite everything, the attention directed to a corner of their reception definitely wasn’t unnoticed by the happy couple, more so by the bride as her violet eyes gazed around. Jean found herself surprised upon landing her eyes on [F/N]’s face, recognizing her rather quickly despite the intricate ornaments she wore on her hair and the delicate makeup. She looked stunning, she thought, before stopping herself and clearing her throat.

Her wandering gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed by Diluc, whose eyes followed before landing on [F/N] as well. It took him a moment to register who it was, and when it did, his shifting expression caused a stir of emotions deep within his bride.

“[F/N]?...” He’d muttered, Jean squeezing his hand lightly to return his attention to her.

“Come Diluc, we have to thank everyone for coming.” She’d hastily led him to the table where the rest of the Knights dined, all raising glasses of champagne and wine as the couple approached them.

“Ah, Diluc, Jean! The ceremony was wonderful,” Lisa had smiled their way, a giggle following. “I nearly teared up at the vows. Goodness, weddings always make me so emotional.”

“The food is also delectable.” Kaeya grinned, his glass rising slightly above the others as he gave his brother a nod. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Congratulations! May your years be blessed with happiness and good fortune!” Amber smiled brightly.

“Yes, congratulations.” Eula complemented, smiling softly as Diluc held Jean close.

“Thank you everyone for coming. It is an honor to share such an important day with you all.” Diluc said with the utmost sincerity, smiling softly as Jean rested her hand on his chest.

“It’s a great pleasure.” Eula’s gaze narrowed as she could sense an unnecessary comment bubbling within Kaeya’s chest. The way he grinned spelled trouble, and just as she predicted so, the man swirled his glass of wine before he continued. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss your wedding for nothing! But perhaps it’s to those who’ve come from the furthest you should extend your greatest gratitudes.”

“Of course, we intend on thanking everyone as we go around every table.” Jean huffed with a small smile, still not following where he was headed. She rested a hand on her hip as she raised an eyebrow softly, Diluc too eyeing his brother as if expecting more.

“Oh, that’s great! I was beginning to think you were rounding around [F/N]’s table on purpose. But then again, you must still be thinking about how to properly thank her, no?”

“Kaeya!” Amber sighed, shaking her head as the mood slightly shifted around the table. The man simply shrugged, sipping on his wine before sighing with content over the wonderful undertones, as he explained.

“Ah, Diluc! Congratulations, you lucky bastard!” Varka’s voice roared across the reception hall, hands plopping down on his shoulders as he laughed loudly. Diluc could only remain awkward as he quietly thanked him, the Grand Master practically whisking him away as he further congratulated him and gave him lessons on how to ensure his wife’s happiness.

“Honestly, I was surprised to know she’d be coming.” Jean watched her husband not stray too far, finally letting out a small sigh and folding her arms across her chest. “I’m still not quite sure how we’re going to address this, as her presence seems… Rather ill-intended.”

“Oh?” Kaeya’s gaze turned to her from the corner of his eyes, finding her choice of words amusing as he let her ramble on.

“Diluc had voiced his wish of inviting her, and thinking it was just a formality I decided to agree with it. But for her to actually accept and show up seems bitter.” It was clear the stress was racing to her head, the table listening awkwardly as she rambled on. “While I understand it still must hurt given the circumstances, we would’ve hoped she would’ve let bygones be bygones. I simply find her actions to lack in-”

“Nobility?” Eula scoffed quietly, eyebrow raising quietly before watching Jean hesitate if she agreed with her or not. It was her turn to cross her arms, speaking directly to her. “I find it quite the opposite. I think that accepting and coming by to show her support shows just how noble she is. After all, for the head of her clan to not show up would’ve been scandalous. Do you know what kind of rumors that would start up, Jean?”

“Wait- Did you just say head of her clan?” Amber repeated, her eyes widening as Eula nodded her head.

“Yes. Haven’t you all realized? Look, notice [F/N]’s obi.” The group found themselves rather indiscreetly gazing towards [F/N]’s table, the crest displayed with pride as she enjoyed Ayato’s company. “It’s the crest of the first clan of Inazuma, otherwise known as the overseer of the Tri-Commissions of the nation. Basically, it’s the oldest still standing clan of the nation, only surpassed by the Archon herself and their Guji.”

The table slowly digested the information, Eula proving yet again just how well educated she was not only to what concerned Mondstadt, but aristocracy of other nations as well. Her legs remained crossed as she finished explaining herself, leg bouncing lightly as she battled with herself to remain cordial despite not having quite liked her friend’s statement. Even if Jean was overly stressed, or their situation with [F/N] hadn’t been ideal, it had most definitely been an unnecessary comment.

“Besides, the man next to her is none other than the head of the Yashiro Commission. Their Commission has many duties, including overseeing ceremonies and rituals that do include weddings. So, her choice of companion can most definitely be seen as yet another layer to her virtuous acceptance of your invitation.”

Kaeya found himself grinning unabashedly at the way Jean glanced away, clearly embarrassed with the outcome of the situation. She still held her arms crossed around her chest in a defensive manner, the Cavalry Captain thinking it would just be best if she left to avoid any further hits to her pride. For the first time in a while, he found himself agreeing fully with Eula, letting her take the reins of the situation as Jean’s ego was put in place. Sure, Kaeya liked Jean. Yet still, he couldn’t deny he thought [F/N] would’ve been a better match for Diluc. Call him petty, but he was enjoying the situation.

“Sorry about that,” Diluc sighed as he returned to their side, his hand resting on Jean’s waist as he gazed around the table. “Erhm, everything alright? You all look, how should I put it…”

“Nothing to worry about.” His brother grinned, waving his hand dismissively as everyone began eating their food. “You go and thank everyone for coming by, yeah? Enjoy yourselves, after all it’s your wedding day!”

Despite the confusion with his sudden upbeat tone, Diluc simply nodded, leading his bride to continue on going through table to table. Needless to say, now that it was he who took the lead, they soon found themselves at [F/N]’s table, the man surprised to see her so intricately dressed and in the presence of someone of such stature.

Nonetheless, and despite the sudden lump of awkwardness that lodged itself in his throat, Diluc took his time to properly thank them for coming, [F/N] simply gazing at them and replying it was their pleasure. Ayato was the one to take charge in their response, smiling cordially as he basked in the way his bride seemed to avert her gaze from them. If looks could diminish someone’s presence, Jean would’ve been long gone, reduced to atoms. And Ayato would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, holding [F/N]’s hand with such delicacy as if they were more than friends.

And as they left, he carefully leaned over her ear, watching as she met him halfway to hear what he had to say.

“Well, that was amusing. Perhaps next year we should invite them to our wedding. A fun retaliation, no?”

“W-What?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #yoko drabbles

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