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godlygreta · 3 years

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i never stopped loving you | j. kiszka

title | i never stopped loving you

summary | jake and y/n have known each other since grade school, they’ve been neighbors forever. a bit of romance ensues, but ends fairly quickly when complications arise while the boys are touring. a trip home from college ends in a slightly drunk confession.

warnings | some mature themes (bit of sex, but not explicitly), swearing, slight angst

word count | 2.5k+

author’s note | hi! this is the first thing i’ve written for any of the boys, so i hope you enjoy. i’ve written for other bands before, so writing isn’t new to me, but writing for greta is.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

High school was rough for Y/N with hormones mixed in with academics, horny teenage boys at every turn. Y/N wasn’t even interested in dating, not due to the fact that nobody was necessarily interested in her, but because she was too focused on her studies to even give a damn. School dances were a nice break from academics. There was a shift, though, when one boy in particular would start to really pay attention to her.

Jake Kiszka was charismatic in every sense of the word. Him and his twin brother, Josh, were always the two sweetest, yet most famous troublemakers in all of Frankenmuth High School. It got even worse when their younger brother, Sam, ended up in high school with them as a freshman. Jake had girls wrapped around his finger from the moment he had gotten a haircut. His hair was a lot shorter than before and barely even touched his forehead. Y/N didn’t really give a damn. To her, he was still Jake Kiszka, neighbor.

Their parents were friends and always hungout on the weekends. Y/N’s family had a cabin on the lake which they always vacationed at and occasionally would bring Jake’s family with. One particular summer, they stayed there for a week between the summer of sophomore and junior year. The summer’s were always hot, but this week in particular was hotter than the other summer’s before. “It feels like the Devil’s asshole out here.”

“I know, Mary, but that’s the exact reason we chose to come here this week. The kids can swim in the lake, it’s a lot cooler in the water than on the grass.” Y/N’s dad spoke, returning the conversation from her mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head and returned to unpacking the car. Y/N and the boys had already gone into the house and picked their rooms. The boys shared one, and Y/N got one of the spare bedrooms.

Dinner was made as soon as everyone was settled in. Everyone sat around the dining table, laughing and eating as they did almost every weekend. “You excited for Junior year, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of nervous about taking the SAT and ACT. I’ve been studying when I’m not working at the shop.” She picked at some asparagus on her plate as she answered Mrs. Kiszka’s question. Jake and Josh weren’t entirely ecstatic about it, it didn’t really matter to either of them. Music was their passion and that was never going to change.

Smores after dinner was a tradition that started when they were all really little, barely old enough to eat them. The fire was lit by Mr. Kiszka and Mr. Y/L/N. Jake, Sam and Josh had always played music while the rest of them made their smores. Y/N always made extras for the boys for when they were done playing music. Whenever they had no idea what to play, Y/N always knew the answer. Running out of songs to play, though, was a rarity in itself. The Kiszka’s knew so much about their sound, nothing was in their way of playing songs that fit it. However, every once in a blue moon they would ask their friend what she would like to hear. “C’mon now. You should know I’m a sucker for The Beatles.”

Y/N could recognize the sound of Blackbird the second it started playing. She had only listened to it eight million times that summer. She hummed lightly along as they played. Everyone clapped as soon as their song was over, the boys immediately delving into their smores. Y/N had finally taken a seat next to Josh when she was finished making their smores for them. Once their parents had gone inside, though, Y/N and the twins dipped into their parents' cooler of beer.

Neither of the sets of parents cared, they knew their kids would be safe and unharmed if they drank at the cabin. Jokes were told and stories of the past school year were discussed, as well as the future. A topic so vast for high schoolers. “I still can’t decide between a lawyer and an art teacher.”

“You’ve always been great at arguing,” Josh joked, “Practically got fuckin’ Lindsey McNeil out of that suspension.”

“It wasn’t fair. All she did was stand up for herself and what she believed in, plus that teacher is fucking creepy and everyone knows it.” Everybody laughed, the beer in everyone’s hands was getting a little warmer with every minute that passed by. Everyone filtered out one by one. Sam went in first, followed by Ronnie (she was slightly upset about coming, having made other plans with friends for the hot weather), and then Josh followed, leaving behind Jake and Y/N.

“Did you want to go inside yet or stay out here for a bit longer?” The silence beforehand hadn’t been awkward for the pair. “Cause I was thinking of going swimming for a bit.”

“I’ll join you, we haven’t swam yet today.”

The sand leading into the lake was met with a bit of rocks. It was picturesque under the moonlight. The pair discarded their clothing, leaving their underwear and got into the water. The coolness of the water sent goosebumps along her skin, leaving no piece without some. Jake followed in behind her, coming up next to her before completely dipping under the water. He popped back up and shook his head.

“You know,” Y/N started, “I think you’d look really good with longer hair.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You should grow it out.” She swiped his hair out of the way and giggled a bit. “You’ll still never be prettier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

The rest of the summer followed with light flirting and spending lots of time together. Junior year came around and nothing changed a bit. Prom was spent with the Kiszka family, Josh driving the three of you, as well as Josh’s date. The dance was lame, the songs were overplayed pop music, which Y/N secretly had a bit of a soft spot for. She would never tell that to Jake, though.

The pair ended up back at Y/N’s house, giggling all the way up to her room. He went into the bathroom to take his suit off, using one of Y/N’s hangers to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. However, Y/N was still having issues. She couldn’t manage to undo the zipper by herself, waiting for Jake to come back into the room to do it for her. He came back in, saw her still in her dress. “Need my help?”

“My zipper -- I can’t reach it.”

“I can do it,” he whispered, knowing Y/N’s parents were asleep. His hands were warm against her back, undoing her zipper slowly. The moonlight coming in from the window felt like that hot summer night at the cabin. He slid the straps down her shoulders, his mouth slightly agape. How could someone look so beautiful and delicate at the same time?

She turned around, her body facing Jake’s. He stuttered, telling her he could leave and he was honestly about to. Until he felt her hand grab his wrist. “Don’t go.”

He nodded his head, helping her get the rest of the way out of her dress. She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. She had a hard time meeting his gaze, nervous of him not feeling the same way she had been. “You looked really good tonight.”

“Me? Everybody was staring at you the whole time, Y/N,” he spoke, one hand finding their way to her waist, the other pulling on her chin to force eye contact. “You looked absolutely breathtaking.”

There was a split second where both of them second guessed themselves. But it was over when Y/N pressed her lips lightly against Jake’s. It was such a feathery light touch, it almost felt like she wasn’t even kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next. She didn’t have to figure it out though, Jake’s lips returned to hers with more pressure.

His hands had found their rightful place on her back, bringing her closer to him. Hers found their way into his hair. It felt so natural - the need for each other grew stronger with each passing minute. His mouth never wanted to leave hers, it felt as though her lips were coated in fucking drugs the way they were so addicting. He couldn’t get enough. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes, please.” It came out so needy - desperate. Y/N didn’t even care about how that presented itself to Jake. She just wanted to be even closer to him than she already was. And she got to be right where she wanted to be.

Her bed was more comfy than Jake had previously remembered. Or maybe that was because they were here under different circumstances, not just studying algebra because Jake wasn’t quite getting it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ever going to forget it. He wanted this moment to replay forever and ever. Not because he was just some horny teenager, but because holy fuck, this had just been some random thought - a daydream, almost. But this was real. This was happening.

A tangled mess they were when climaxing. “I love you,” came out as barely above a whisper. It took Y/N a half of a second to register what he was really saying before it finally hit her. She didn’t feel as if she had to say it back, if anything, he should realize that she loved him too.

“I could honestly stay here forever and stare at you until the end of time.”

“So do it. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They didn’t though. And it wasn’t that simple. Complications arose after that night. Everything got messy and trying to tie in a relationship while the band was traveling and on the road became increasingly difficult, especially when Y/N went to college.

She came home to Frankenmuth while she was off for the summer. Her mother and father missed her a great deal and the first weekend home was spent in the Kiszka’s backyard, the boys excluded. It was weird to be at their house and not see them littered around anywhere. Ronnie was full of stories though, telling Y/N about previous times the boys have come home from touring and the memories they brought back with him.

It was painful to hear, but she was so incredibly proud of everything they had accomplished and done. Every once in a while, Y/N had checked up on their band's Instagram account. When she was really nervous — having a hard time not worrying about them — she texted Josh or Danny. Neither of them were ever going to say anything to Jake or mention it to Sam.

The two families decided to get together and have dinner at a local bar. The boys were still away, they weren’t scheduled to come back to Michigan for at least another month and a half. Ronnie and Y/N spent most of their time talking about future plans for the upcoming weeks while their parents discuss their weekend plans — what to have for dinner and who’s house to have dinner at. Time had passed quickly and before they knew it, it was 10pm.

The parents had left, leaving Ronnie and Y/N at the bar by themselves. At least, that was until the boys walked in.

Ronnie smiled widely, hugging her brothers but then proceeding to punch them for surprising her and not just telling her. Josh and Danny hugged Y/N first, Sam leading after. Jake didn’t hug Y/N. It stung a bit. It made sense though. The last time they talked — it ended in an argument which was the resulting cause of their breakup.

A few drinks were downed, a couple shots thrown in there as well. Y/N figured it was time to throw the towel in. She couldn’t handle the awkward glances and forced conversation on their part. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and put it on as she said goodbye to everyone. “Boys, lovely to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend.”

She wasn’t going to. She was gonna avoid them at all costs. Come up with a lie — say she had the flu or something. Her mother would believe her either way, as well as understand where she was coming from with her avoidance. Her mother was there for her while she cried her eyes out.

She didn’t notice when Jake had followed her out. She didn’t notice him calling her name. The only thing she could notice was the tears falling down her cheeks, wiping them as soon as she felt them.

“I never stopped loving you.”

“When we broke up,” he started. “I was a wreck. I was immature. It could’ve worked out - it would’ve worked out if I wasn’t such a child about everything.”

“Jake —“

“No, Y/N, I need to say this now. I’m a little drunk so I actually have the balls to say everything I want to. It was stupid to break up over something as menial as distance. The things I feel for you are so intense it scares the fuck out of me. I was so afraid of being gone all the time. You deserved someone who could be there to help you study for midterms. I was always in another state and sometimes another country. I wasn’t… there to be able to help you through anything. Everything’s different now, though.”

She sighed, not entirely sure on what to do with the information that was thrown at her. She was sober enough to remember the conversation tomorrow, but not nearly drunk enough to be able to deal with it tonight. “Do you wanna just come home with me? Talk about this tomorrow morning when we’re both sober.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #godlygreta writes jake #jake #kiszka #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fic

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

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Amalfi Nights // Victoria De Angelis

words // 2766, SHOCK!

warnings // smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x F!Reader author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. as far as i gathered the request was about female reader so i did that, i can def change it to gn pronouns but unfortunately don't know how exactly i can make detailed smut entirely gn so i am sorry for that. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it, my smut skills feel rusty but it was nice writing some smut again

request // yes, here

summary // Reader and Victoria are for vacantion in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sumbathing, Victoria just wants to show you her love.

(i forgot i changed the setting)

It was not unusual for the bassist to overwork herself. Sometimes she did not even realise what she was doing, she just worked mechanically writing, playing… She would ignore everyone and everything that was not her job, as if in some kind of tance that only allowed her to focus on one and only one thing.

The one that was truly affected by that - other than her of course - was her wonderful lover. Y/N had the patience of a saint, in the words of Damiano, being the only one truly able to deal with Victoria’s stubbornness. Some would call it patience, others call it tolerance, others name it thriftiness, Y/N simply calls it love. There was a lot of love targeted at the blonde woman, a love that made her lover unable to just let her push herself to the limit, no matter what she did.

As the ‘thrifty’ characterization indicates, Y/N almost always -with the exception of very few occasions when Victoria had some pretty compelling arguments- found a way to pull her out of that. Usually it was the plain promise of cuddles and kisses, maybe even sex would lure her out of her tiring working cycle, but this time nothing seemed to work. Y/N had to be really inventive this time and luckily it was something possible.

The plan went as such: a vacation at Amalfi, just for a weekend. You just put Victoria in the car and go. Nothing can go wrong. It seemed like a fool-proof plan, and truly it was. It happened to be fairly easy to convince Vic to get in the car. “Just get in or I’ll spend the weekend in Amalfi alone, no phone calls, no pictures. Nothing.” As always, compelling.

It seemed to be the girl’s weakness; Y/N. By the simple threat of not seeing her lover for a weekend, not getting any of the beautiful photos she was sure there would be, Victoria was ready to even teleport to the coast if possible.

Trouble started one Victoria sat herself in that car. From the first moment, when she opened the door, her insatiability was clear. “How long does it take to get there?” “Are we there yet?” “How much longer until we are there?” “When will we stop?” “Let me drive.” “I don’t even need the break.” This is how the entire three and a half hour trip went, with Victoria whining, complaining and asking to drive. It was worse than having a five year old but Y/N would never have it any other way.

Arriving there was a breath of fresh air. The blonde finally stopped asking questions and talking and her partner got the chance to enjoy some peace. It was truly beautiful. The sea, the mountains, the houses and even the hidden buildings, it seemed like out of a fairy tale, Y/N wasting no time expressing that thought. Victoria, being a few meters away, basking in the scenery, responded swiftly by walking back to her lover, leaving kisses up her face. “It’s only so beautiful because I have you here.”

Oh that sweet talk of hers, enough to make anyone melt, melt to their knees and beg for her love. Y/N felt helpless around her girlfriend, not in a bad way, although it could certainly be dangerous, but in a way of… being drunk, drunk in love, drunk by her beauty, by her personality. It was never about her looks and always about how Victoria could always lift the girl off her feet with only her words. She’d feel like she’s floating every time they are together, floating in the most beautiful dream.

The day passed by smoothly, the pair spending it under the sun and into the sea, they only stopped when the sun seemed to be setting. She might have not known how to show it exactly but Victoria was extremely thankful for the partner she had, knowing the lengths the other woman would go for her. She thought of the best way to show her just that, maybe with some dinner, the atmosphere was utterly romantic; the Amalfi coast, sunset hour was nearing, she had her lover right there, and all the means to show her how she felt. So she moved on with the plan.

After arriving in the hotel, Vic rushed to get herself ready first, hoarding the bathroom, winning herself enough time to set up the dinner.

“I’ll be showering now,” called Y/N, “might take a while, I think I burned my shoulders a bit…”

“Don’t forget to get ready while you’re there. We need to be ready the soonest possible if we want to explore!”

Her girlfriend hummed in response, Victoria having an inner dance party -and feeling bad for it- before going down the lobby to arrange everything with the hotel. From Y/N’s favorite food, to her favorite wine and even favourite flowers, everything was set to perfection. It was done surprisingly fast, the blonde woman taking an active role in it, realising how last minute it was. By the time Y/N was showered, dressed and ‘fancied up’ her girlfriend had everything but the food set. But it was not of the utmost importance, knowing that they could wait for it a bit.

“Hey, babe, I’m dr- essed… What did you do?” She smiled, mesmerized by the view in front of her. The balcony of their hotel room was set like a dream. Flowers on the table, two glasses for wine and said wine next to the table. She wasn’t sure how to react to such action.

“I only wanted to thank you, amore. You do so much for me, caring for me, baring my stubbornness. For fuck’s sake you brought me here cause I’m over worked,” she breathed out the last few words, unable to speak properly before moving to her girlfriend to kiss her.

“I simply love you,” Victoria whispered against Y/N’s lips, moving her to her chair before occupying her own.

The whole dinner revolved around the two just exchanging glances and flirty words. “You're hot, delicious, you look scrumptious,” one of them would say, a hungry look on her face, the other blushing, almost jumping from her chair. It was torture to just sit so close yet so far away from each other.

“Just move closer to me, dolcessa,” breathed out Victoria, signaling for the other girl to move her chair closer. Y/N did not hesitate to obey her girlfriend’s suggestion, quickly shuffling herself next to Victoria.

“Bravo ragazza. You obey very well, amore.” If it had been possible for Y/N to keep any sinful thoughts at bay before everything went out the window immediately as the blonde opened her mouth. “It will be extremely useful after dinner is over. Mhm,” she paused, leaving kisses on her girlfriend’s neck, “I am thinking, second course?”

Everything after that moment was a blur. The pair did not even get the chance to finish their dinner before Victoria had dragged her lover inside the room and pinned her right next to the window. Her kisses were hot and sloppy but Y/N would be lying if she said she’s complaining. If anything this moment is all she’s been waiting for today. The blonde never stopped her ‘attack’, moving closer and closer to Y/N’s sweet spot, assaulting the spot with the lips, her teeth and her tongue, taking special care of it.

Her trail only lowered as she kept on kissing and leaving marks all over, hands on her partner’s waist, lips on the swell of her chest. “You know this shirt drives me crazy, dolcezza! Of course you do. That’s why you wore it, huh?” Y/N couldn’t speak, all ability to form words and sounds was taken away by her lover. “Speak to me amore, this isn’t the time to be naughty.”

“That’s why I wore it,” responded the helpless girl, slowly being undressed by her lover.

“Well, it’s a shame it’s going away, no?” And with that the shirt was removed entirely, leaving Y/N’s chest almost fully exposed to Victoria, her action did not waver, though. She kept her direction to the girl’s bottoms, kissing above the top of her pants before throwing a questioning look up. Y/N only nodded eagerly, giving Victoria the permission she needed to presume her actions, removing the pants without much thought or effort.

“It is not fair, Vic,” whined Y/N, eyes semi closed with the pleasure the other girl’s feathery touch around her body provided, “you are overdressed.”

“You’re right, puppy,” she responded, swiftly getting up, dropping a kiss and seductively moving towards the bed. “Why don’t you come and return the favor? I got so tired undressing you, now you’ll have to it for me,” she taunted, smirking evidently as she held her self up by her arms, legs semi open on the bed, eyes eye-fucking her lover already.

A little bit of encouragement was all Y/N to get a little confidence and take the lead a bit. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” she whispered in Victoria's ear and started copying her girlfriend’s previous actions.

Her hands were going everywhere, unsure of where to stay or whether they should stay still. Eventually they moved under her shirt, massaging her chest there, emitting a series of moans to leave Victoria’s mouth. “Too much fabric,” she mumbled on Vic’s skin, opting to remove said fabric, making all access so much easier and revealing the beautiful lingerie underneath.

“So pretty you are Victoria. What a beauty. I got lucky, now, didn’t I?” The focus shifted on the woman’s chest. Her nipples were poking through the bra, doing very little to cover anything, but the goal was never to hide.

“Work on my boobs, baby, go on,” encouraged Victoria after noticing Y/N’s hyperfixation on said body parts. “I know you love it.”

No thought occurred before the last girl did as told. Lips left kisses and marks all over Victoria’s chest, paying special attention to the line above her bra. Her hands moved swiftly behind Vic’s back, unclasping her bra, removing it and moving to attack her nipples. They were perky due to the breeze entering the room through the open balcony door but also from the arousal. Y/N loved to love them, always one of her favorite things to do in bed. She loved to suck on them, to kiss them, even lick around them or pop her in and out her mouth like cherries.

Y/N was not the only one to enjoy the attention she gave them. Victoria would be lying if she said she did not get wetter and wetter whenever her partner gave her nipples so much love. It was possibly the hottest view, to look at her from above, gazes aligned, such delicious noises released by both lovers; wet sounds and moans. The whole scene was beautifully pornographic, straight out of a movie, so theatrical but genuinely felt.

The lower girl decided on the next move without a warning, slowly moving her hand to move under Vic’s fancy shorts. The discovery there made her insane, and only then did she really get sure that her girlfriend had planned for this to happen. The lingerie set seemed complete, not that it mattered that much anymore, the panties got most likely slightly ruined by just how wet Victoria was. No prep was needed, not much effort at all, she was entirely ready for anything, a fact that made Y/N feel proud of her work so far. Without a word, one of her fingers started pumping in and out of the blonde. Such a wonderful scene, the delicious movements of them both, the divine moans the blonde let out… It was a plain dream that neither of them wanted to get out of. Everything just felt perfect, like an all time high, and maybe it was just that, a high, one that both found themselves in quite often.

“This,” began Victoria, struggling to speak between her moans and thrusts on Y/N’s fingers, “was supposed to be a thank you from me to you, cucciola. Agh,” she struggled again, the pleasure just being too much, fingers deep inside her with constant friction on her clit.

“Stop, oh my, stop, amore. I want your mouth,” she all but screamed, rushing to unbutton and remove her shorts, all but ripping her panties off. Y/N simply shuffled to her knees in front of the bed, settling between Vic’s open legs and diving right in.

Not taking almost any time to breathe in between, just kissing her clit and ramming her fingers in and out of Victoria as her hands rested on her lover’s head, pushing her closer every time a wave of pleasure took over her. Her tongue was everywhere, the one moment lapping over Vic’s clit and the next one assisting her fingers inside the blonde. The whole ordeal had her pulsing and shaking underneath Y/N resulting in her cumming all over the girl's face with no warning.

“That was so hot,” giggled Y/N, getting up to leave kisses all over Vic’s face, absolutely adoring the whole fucked out expression she held. “I want to do it again,” she continued, just like a kid in a candy store, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“No, no, puppy! You were so good to me, but now it’s your time. You deserve to be loved.” It was all mumbled, but her tone was always authoritative.

“Just move to the bed, love.” With that Y/N did as told, moving onto the bed and spreading her legs, just like Victoria liked. Her back was on the headboard, leaning there to be more comfortable, hands already touching her own chest in anticipation.

“Keep the bra, cucciola, but I think the panties need to go… Mhm, not that I don’t like them, but they get in the way. Can you remove them for me?” It was not really a question but her lover still gave a small yes as a response. “I feel like you deserve a very good reward, puppy, don’t you agree?”

Y/N was sitting there in awe and staring at her partner, maybe a little worried by the toy or maybe just excited for the up and coming event. Giving pleasure to Victoria had only made her more hot and bothered, unable to wait for the said blonde to act.

And she acted, swiftly removing the black lace panties her enamoured bottom was wearing after she left kisses all around the line of them. It’s that moment she saw the effect she gained over the girl for the night; her panties were absolutely soaked, in a lot of spots not being able to distinguish skin from the fabric of the undergarment, making her salivate at the sight, opting to kiss her wet pussy over and over, stimulating her before working her magic.

Victoria started off slow, a very rhythmic tempo but tortuous at the same time. She went from one finger to two and three and then added her mouth into the mix, hiding herself between her favorite girl’s thighs, getting lost in the taste and the noise.

“You are doing so good, my love, taking my fingers so well, mhm, such a good girl.” The praise never stopped, only encouraging more and more sinful noises to leave Y/N’s lips, the same ones that were parted the whole time, swollen and begging to be kissed. Victoria did not hesitate to do exactly that, allowing Y/N to taste her juices, the kiss doing little to conceal the confirmation of pleasure.

As Vic’s pace quickened, Y/N was struggling to keep it together, falling apart in the blonde’s hands, cummiing with a loud moan and a series of curses as she was left there, in bliss; in afterglow. “Be a doll and drink this, precious,” whispered Victoria, giving some water to the girl, before following her own advice and doing the same. After, she moved to the hotel room bathroom, quickly finding a small towel to wet with warm water and clean both of them up.

By the time she walked back in the bedroom Y/N was practically asleep on the bed, sprawled out, just as she was left, as soft breaths left her. Victoria smiled at herself, proceeding with cleaning her girlfriend up before leaving a kiss on her forehead and getting in the bed, following suit and falling asleep.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#victoria de angelis imagine #victoria de angelis #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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hi, i love all your work! could i please request headcanons for what it'd be like to go from being enemies to lovers with nikolai lantsov.

thank you:)

A/N maybe i moved this up on my request lists bc i woke up today and went 'nikolai lantsov'

- i'm being a little liberal with cannon bc my mind first went to 'princess! reader who hates nikolai bc they're competitive and then they have to team up together to try to get their parents to break up their arranged marriage but fall in love in the process (this might be a little undetailed but i'm thinking of writing a full fic or mini-series with this plotline so let me know if you'd be interested!! i could see a smutty ending to that fic but idk,, lmk what you thing ig lol)

- Ok so first off enemies to lovers with the loml nikolai lantsov would be SO GOOD bc he's so dramatic and obviously attractive so even though you hate him you know he's hot,, there's never a dramatic realization that he's attractive bc it's just a fact

- butttt you'd rather give up any claim you have to your family's throne than feed his already gigantic ego

- okk but lets get to the beginning of your enemies to lovers relationship

- so basically every summer your parents go and stay with Nikolai's family at this super fancy vacation home bc your parents are both royalty and your kingdoms have a very healthy relationship

- just bc it's the summer season doesn't mean it's summer vacation,, so as children for about a month you two share a tutor,, and when i tell you that created a rivalry so fast i mean it

- you're not the eldest princess and you're always trying to be the best for your parents approval, nikolai just wanted to impress the really smart girl who had a pretty laugh (poor nikolai lol,, he had no way of knowing how important being the best in school no matter what was to your self esteem)

- maybe if you two could communicate you’d like each other a little better at this point but it starts when you’re pretty young and by the time you’re like 13 it’s a solidified dynamic (and 13 year olds are the MEANEST and most insecure people in the world so that’s when your relationship turns to full enemies)

- now that you’re 13 you have more princess-y requirements, especially over the summer. So when you see that Nikolai gets to practice with swords and gets more free time while you have to practice setting tables you hate him more than ever.

- Nikolai senses that you’re extra hostile but he has no idea why,, he tries asking once but he makes a joke about how ‘maybe you’re jealous bc youre no longer the center of my attention’ and even though he’s just trying to ease the tension you feel like he’s making fun of you

- so that’s when things get aggressive, but at that point summer is almost over so it’s whatever

- next summer comes and you’re still SO MAD at him,, so when you get to the estate you’re like ‘i’m not even talking to him idc how quiet these next three months are’

- and you get there all determined to hate him,, but once you get there and see him something in you cracks bc he had the audacity to spend the last year going through puberty AND LIKE HE’S ALWAYS BEEN CUTE BUT THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE

- so youre mentally panicking bc how do you even talk to someone that looks like that now???? but then you remember that you didnt even want to talk him so in a panic youre like ‘maybe i can avoid him and he’ll just assume it’s bc i hate him bc i do,, who cares if he’s unbelievably hot now’

- nikolai doesn’t assume anything, he just gets to the estate and is like ‘why hasn’t she insulted me yet?? is she suddenly too good to give me attention?’ so during the lessons that you still share he gets an idea

- he decides to one-up you in everything bc that’s always gotten a reaction out of you

- it works,, every time he corrects you or steals an answer from you, you’re ready to snap but then you look at him and take in his stupidly perfect face and you just shut up

- nikolai thinks it’s not working so he just tries harder

- by the end of week one you can’t take it anymore so when the tutor leaves at the end of lessons you snap, you tell him off for how often he’d repeat what you said and change a few words and get all the praise from the tutor

- on the inside he’s like ‘took long enough’ but the more you rant he’s like ‘is she okay???’ he’d be more concerned if you weren’t threatening his pride and at this point he’s still annoyed bc if you were that annoyed you should have just talked to him instead of ignoring him for a week

- he’s thinking that just bc you got really pretty over the last year doesn’t make you too good to yell at him on the daily

- the worst thing anyone can do to nikolai is ignore him LMAO (lowkey relatable)

- so he starts arguing with you and you’re so upset that you forget about how aggressively attractive he is

- and you two are alone in this room and the more you argue the closer you two get

- the climax of the argument is when neither of you are yelling, you’re just so mad you’re beyond raising your voice and once you’re both at that point it goes like this:

“Nikolai Lantsov, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met”

“Well then, Darling, you should look in a mirror.”

“You are so entitled, so ridiculously self obsessed that it ruins your attractiveness.”

“...” he literally just like blinks twice. “You think I’m attractive?”

“Uh? No--i didn’t say that at all, maybe if you didn’t have the language comprehension of a child you’d understa--” he just reaches forward, grabs the collar of your dress, and kisses you.

- it’s your first kiss so you have no idea what you’re doing and it’s with some one you CANT STAND and you’re so mad bc you had expectations for your first kiss and he’s taken that from you--but the thing is,,

- he’s good at it. Like really good at it. Like so good it makes you curious about what he does the nine months of the year he’s not stuck here with you bc there’s no way he hasn’t had practice.

- but you’re also extremely confused and nervous and aware of how stupid you’re being (and a little hormonal bc being 14 isn’t easy) and then he places his hand on your cheek and that snaps some sense of reality into you bc it’s one thing to enjoy the kiss but another thing entirely to want him to escalate it

- so you place one hand on his chest and push him off of you slightly. He takes the hint, pulls away enough to look at you and then you two just stare at each other

- your hand is still on his chest and you have absolutely no idea what comes next, but you find yourself looking at his lips

- since you haven’t slapped him or pulled away more than a few inches he thinks maybe things are okay so he leans forward slightly and kisses you again.

- you reciprocate a little too fast, the kiss lasts two seconds before thinking about how insane you’re being so you push away entirely.

- He lets you go,, and in the most awkward display ever you’re like ‘uh I need to go,, i can’t be late to ball preparation lessons’ and you leave that room faster than you’ve ever left a room in your entire life.

- the next day you consider pretending to be sick to avoid him but that would only give him more power over the situation so you go,, and he’s just sitting there calmly

- youre on edge the entire day but he never even jokes about it

- a part of you is a tiny bit annoyed bc who kisses you and then pretends it never happened? but overall, you’re relieved

- the days pass and it never comes up but now whenever you two argue you think of how quickly kissing him both shut him up and got rid of your tension

- the summer goes by quickly, your usual dynamic has returned and you wonder if he even remembers kissing you. twice. in a row.

- the next couple of years are normal,, even when you two no longer take lessons together you still dont like him. He’s just so assured and he takes such joy in bothering you.

- and then one summer your parents sit you down and they’re like ‘we need to plan the future alliance of our kingdom’

- you’re a little confused bc you’re rarely allowed to sit in on these things bc you’re a girl and you’re basically meant to just be a royal’s bride--and then you realize why you’re there.

- you start protesting before your father can finish announcing your engagement

- the parents were smart bc they announced it at the end of summer so you two couldn’t drive them crazy or conspire

- the first thing you do when you get back to your castle is write to him for the first time ever

- your letter is basically ‘pls tell me you’re doing something’

- the two of you talk until you come up with the plan to get your parents to break up your engagement

- your parents dont really care about your feelings and they expect the two of you to argue with them,, but they care about the kingdoms

- so you two decide that if you act like youre so in love that you let your duties slip the engagement will end,, especially if you two are in love in a toxic way

- so the next summer you two make sure to flirt and act like youre totally obsessed with each other and skip lessons together and just are constantly together and acting like you’re on a honeymoon

- your parents are like ?? since when

- at one point you flirt with a random guard just so Nikolai can have a ‘jealous outburst’ while your families are strolling through the garden

- ngl jealous nikolai had you ready to RISK IT ALL,, you were ready to drop the plan and marry him on the spot

- he notices bc he notices everything about you and when your family walks away he gives you a quick kiss and youre stunned,, much to his delight

- your desire to break up your engagement takes a slight backseat in your mind bc you decide to set off on a secret goal to make him flustered

- it doesn’t take much, your dresses get a little more risky, your comments get a little more suggestive

- the only problem?? he seems to have his own personal goal and it’s to make you even more flustered than he is

- soon the two of you are lost in layers of pretend and competition

- when your parents are finally thinking about delaying the engagement and keeping you two away from each other until you calm down a little (i feel bad for them,, an entire summer of being surrounded by the ULTIMATE sexual tension)

- you’re sad and you don’t know why bc this is what you wanted, but then Nikolai stands up and says that you two planned for this and he has the letters to prove it (he was ready to drop the receipts LMAO) and youre like ??what are you doing?

- and he says he’d rather marry you then never see you again bc now all he wants is to get know you bc he has no idea how he wasted so much time arguing with you

- and you just meltttt but your in front of your entire family and his as well so you just sit there for a minute and then you tell him you feel the same way

- but the summer’s over

- you kiss him before leaving and he says you’ll have to visit bc he can’t go an entire year without seeing your ‘pretty face’

- you promise to visit him soon

- your at home for exactly a day and a half before getting an invitation to visit him

- you laugh bc the only way that letter could get to you that fast is if he mailed it before you even left

- you say yes obviously,, and spend some time having a really cute fall-dating vibes together until you figure out how you really feel

- and you feel like he makes your heart STOP and that’s why you hated him,, bc you didn’t like being vulnerable

#grisha #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagine #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #fic #headcanon #enemies to lovers

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humansofnewyork · 3 years

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“I started having problems my second year of college. At first it was a lot of pain, and vomiting, and fatigue. Ben and I were doing long distance at the time, so he’d drive up on the weekends to take care of me. But during our visits, I’d always think: ‘He doesn’t have to be here.’ I wasn’t that fun girl anymore. The one he met while dancing on a table in Mexico. We could no longer do those things. And during one particularly long hospital stay, I decided to help him break away. I was going to write him a long letter, and pack up my things, and disappear. But I was never able to do it. Because I got too sick and needed him around. We ended up eloping in Las Vegas so that I could qualify for health insurance. And ever since then it’s been years of -isms and diseases. I’ve had eleven surgeries. So much of our relationship has been dictated by my health. We have three beautiful children, and there are days when Ben has to do everything: the cooking, the cleaning, the homework. But he still promises me that I’m a good mom. He never mentions the things I can’t do. He always reminds me of the things I’m able to accomplish. It’s always little stuff. He’ll say: ‘Don’t forget that you paid some bills today. And you colored a picture with Julian. And you read a bedtime story.’ There are times when I’ll withdraw completely. It’s normally after we have to cancel a vacation. Or Ben has to take off work. And I’ll start thinking about how he could be living a completely different life. I’ll go to a really dark place. But he’ll remind me that he chose this life. And he continues to choose it. Ben has been writing me letters for our entire relationship. He keeps them all in a safe. And they’re so important to me, because written words are easier to accept. You can read them over and over. The last one was a couple months ago. I was having a particularly bad day. And Ben came back from getting groceries. He sent the kids into my room with some flowers and a little note. It said: ‘I believe one day the mountain is going to shrink off your shoulders, and it’s going to be amazing. But life is not for waiting. I love you with my whole being, but I need you to love yourself too.’”

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yunhoez · 3 years

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Swell

♄ pairings: suna x reader (in their 20s)

♄ genre: romance, angst, bestfriends to lovers (if u keep one eye open)

♄ warnings: cussing, smoking, suna & atsumu aren't volleyball players okay (don't yell at me), sfw for now

♄ wc: 2.4k

♄ a/n: okay so this is based on a script I wrote (it’s gonna be a film soon hehe), but considering I have to keep it short I wanted to continue it on as a fic! thank you to @chifuyuzu, @arumiee, @psmugglerr, and Mal♡ for encouraging me to do this and reading it <3 I hope y’all enjoy!

♄ songs - Swell by Lunar Vacation, I Don't Know You by The Marias

_______________________________________________

The low humming of the car and soft music coming from the radio sends you into a trance as you look out at the familiar streets of your hometown. Your head pressed against the seat feels heavy with the thought of being back in the place you ran away from. Your gaze trails to the two in the front seat, the streetlights hitting them enough for you to make out their features you’ve seemed to forget. Ava hums to the song on the radio lightly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. Atsumu’s eyes are fixed on the road before he turns toward Ava and rubs her back slightly. She shoots him a small smile before returning her gaze to the road. The aching feeling in your heart swells, making your stomach churn.

“It’s weird.” You say, breaking the peaceful silence that once graced the car.

“Hm?” Ava hums, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Nothing ever seems to change here.” You state, staring back out at the window with a blank expression, catching a glimpse of the houses you’d pass on the way to school.

Ava shakes her head, although you tried to mask your emotions, she could tell that you were irritated. Atsumu laughs looking out of the passenger seat window, noticing the park he used to practice volleyball at.

“It really hasn’t been that long since we’ve been here, Y/N.”

“I know, but you’d think things would at least feel different.” You throw your head back in frustration, letting out a loud sigh. Ava laughs, turning her blinker on before she begins to turn into yet another familiar street.

“I don’t know, I like that things are the same here. It feels like home, ya know? Knowing that there will always be a place that feels familiar is kinda comforting.”

Your gaze settles onto Ava with a mischievous grin. You scoot into the middle seat, leaning in between your two friends. Atsumu looks over at you and giggles, looking up at Ava to stare at her with you. Ava takes her eyes off the road for a second to see you two, she rolls her eyes.

“What?” She deadpans.

“That was the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard you say.” Your laugh fills the car, making Atsumu join in and eliciting a small huff from Ava.

“Shut up! Is it so bad I actually like my hometown?”

“Yes.” Both you and Atsumu state at the same time, further irritating Ava as she swerves slightly making the both of you slide in your seats.

“Crazy how I can just drop you two off on the side of the road and leave.”

“Not like we don’t know the way around here.” Atsumu says, poking at Ava’s cheek.

“Looks like you’re walking to the studio then.” Ava stops the car in the middle of the road, Atsumu looks at her with a puzzled look. She leans over to open his car door, you stare at the two in amusement waiting to see what happens.

“Babe, it’s another 10 miles!” Atsumu exclaims, shutting the door.

“Atsumu, just shut up or walk before these cars come.” You state, looking behind you and see the car lights coming from a small distance.

“Why do I have to shut up when this one started it?”

“Huh?! What did I do?”

Ava rolls her eyes, picking at her nail polish as the two of you bicker over nothing. She puts the car in drive and slams on the breaks causing the two of you to fall over.

“What the hell, Ava?” You ask from the middle of the driver and passenger seat. “I could’ve died?” Ava stifles a laugh before putting the car in park. She looks at Atsumu pouting in his seat, rubbing his forehead and refusing to make eye contact with her. Ava lets out a loud laugh, wiping at the corner of her eyes. You giggle to yourself as you lift yourself up, moving towards the right side of the car to take your seat. You notice Ava placing a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead and the fond touches the two share. A small smile appears on your face seeing them interact, their love radiating off of them like the sun on a hot day. It felt so nice to be around them, but the heat in your heart was beginning to sting. Was it jealousy? No. Anger? No. Longing… Maybe.

“Geez, ya nearly gave me a concussion!”

“Serves you right.”

Ava puts the car in drive, cruising along the dimly lighted streets. Atsumu continues to mutter to himself about how his head hurts.

“I felt my brain rattle.”

“Crazy because there’s nothing in there.”

They continue talking as you look out the window, blocking out their conversation with your own thoughts. Why did I come back here? Surely, I could’ve made up some excuse and made it up to them another time. I don’t think I’m ready to see-

“Anyways, Y/N, do ya really hate it here that much?” Atsumu breaks your train of thought.

“S’not that I hate it.” You mutter, head resting on your hand. “It’s just a weird feeling coming back to a place that doesn’t change. Like everything’s frozen in time… it freaks me out.” Scarlett peaks at you through the rearview mirror, once again, observing your facial expression. Always the mysterious one, aren’t ya? She thought.

“If you ask me, I think it’s nice having a place that doesn’t change. Somewhere you know you can be comfortable and find some sort of peace.” You stare at her for a second, before returning your gaze to the window.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Wow, you’re actually agreeing with me for once?”

“I mean I’m not opposed to the idea of it, I just don’t like getting too comfortable…”

“Fair enough.” Ava sighs, glancing over at Atsumu who nods knowingly at her as he puts his window down. Your window begins to roll down causing you to look at Ava in confusion. “Fresh air will do ya good.”

You rest your arms on the car window, slightly leaning your head onto them as you peek out of the window. The cool autumn breeze tickles your face, as you soak in the darkness of the night. It was a new moon, the only light coming from the sky was the twinkling stars and planets. You look up to the sky and catch a glimpse of a shooting star. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those. You thought. I wonder if he still does this.

“Nice being able to see the stars, ain’t it?” Atsumu says, half way out of the car window.

“Yeah…” You smile, a giggle leaving your mouth as he sways in the wind dramatically. “One break from Ava and you’ll fly out!”

“Oi, don’t give her any ideas!”

Ava laughs, turning into the corner store you all used to visit everyday. Atsumu sits back into his seat, handing Ava a wad of cash from his wallet.

“Any requests?”

“Starbursts, make sure ya get the one with all the reds!”

“Alright, Y/N?”

“Oh! And one of those fancy lookin’ waters! Ya know, with the cool designs and shit?” Atsumu interrupts. Ava sends him a teasing glare and he smirks. She turns towards you, your attention fixed on the store that seemed to remain the same. The beige building had the same lettering and advertisements as it did when you were in high school. The railings had a fresh coat of paint on them, but still looked scuffed from all the times you and your friends would sit on them. It was just how you left it. How annoying.

“Oi, Y/N! Getcha’ head out of the clouds, Ava’s askin’ ya something”

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“You want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Twizzlers? Got it.”

Ava exits the car and runs into the shop. Atsumu lifts off his seat slightly, digging into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Seven Stars cigarettes. He plucks one out and lights it, puffing the smoke out of the window. The scent envelops her, giving her a sense of both warmth and pain from the memories it holds.

“Thought you quit.”

“I did. This is for nostalgic reasons.” He smiles, inhaling the smoke and releasing it out of the window in a swift movement.

“Right, you and Rin…” You trail off mid sentence. Atsumu looks up at you through the rearview mirror, just as Ava did, and takes another drag.

“Mhm, this was our go to place for a while.” His eyes flicker from you to the inside of the store. He relaxes back into his seat, looking over at Ava with the biggest grin on his face. She’s looking intensely at two bottles of water and making small talk with the cashier. You smile to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you remember the times you all used to meet up here and spend hours talking about nothing.

“When was the last time you two spoke?”

“I can’t remember.”

Atsumu nods, knowing the answer. He flicks the bud of the cigarette out of the window, turning slightly to see you staring at the ground. He flicks your forehead softly, earning a yelp from you. He laughs.

“He’s still here, ya know?”

You look up from the ground, but stay silent for a few moments before he speaks up again.

“He never wanted to leave.”

“Sounds like him.” You let go of your legs, opening the car door and stepping out. You stretch a bit before shutting the door behind you. “You think he’ll be at the show?”

“I don’t think he’d miss getting the chance to see you again.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, walking up to the door and exchanging a couple words with Ava before she exits. The cashier greets you just how he did when you were sixteen and the layout of the store is the same as it was 4 years ago. Nothing’s changed here… so why do I feel so out of place?

“What did you do?” Ava sighs, rummaging through the bag of snacks she just bought.

“Huh? I didn’t do anything!” Atsumu exclaims, hands held up in surrender as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Sure, you didn’t. I’m assuming you mentioned Rintarou.”

“Hm? Rintarou? I don’t even know who that is.”

Ava scoffs, throwing the bag of Starbursts at him. He turns to her in shock, dramatically falling into his seat and gripping at the spot the candy hit him. She giggles, taking a bite out of a twizzler and lifting her leg onto her seat.

“What is she getting anyways?” Atsumu mutters, obnoxiously chewing on his candy.

“Lollipops.” Ava shrugs.

_____________________________________________

The smell of cinnamon and the bright lights of the studio overwhelm your senses in the most pleasant way possible. People you’ve never seen before walk past you, admiring the works of art your best friend, Rei, has displayed. Quiet chatter is heard over the music playing from a record player in the corner, occasionally Atsumu’s loud voice is heard saying “Yeah! Rei’s my best friend, she did all of this, ya know? I was her inspiration for most.” You giggle to yourself, hearing a small “Ow” when Ava elbows him in the rib. You observe the people around you, keeping an eye out for a certain brown haired boy. He’s not here. Your thought is interrupted by Rei’s sweet voice and a small shot glass held in front of your face.

“You look like you need this.” Rei giggles. You laugh lightly, grabbing the glass and clinking it with Rei’s before downing it with her.

“Strawberry?”

“Just like old times.” She smiles. You give her an annoyed look, causing her to roll her eyes and sling her arm over your shoulders. “Shut up, you know it’s our tradition.”

They part for a second then hook their arms together as they walk around the studio, Rei pointing out her favorite pieces and explaining them to you as you admire how ecstatic she is. The two of you stop at the last few pieces of her exhibit, the wall filled with pictures she’s taken over the years.

“I’m so proud of you.” You state, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Being vulnerable counts for something, doesn’t it?” She smiles, patting your head lightly.

Rei looks over at the entrance of the studio and waves to a couple people. You lift your head up and let go of her arm, as she smiles at you.

“I’ll be back!” She exclaims, running over and greeting them as she takes them on a tour of her art studio.

You debate whether to roam around the studio or stick to this exhibit, when something catches your eye. You stand closer to the photos, noticing how they date back to 2015. A couple photos in the timeline up to the present catch your eye. Ava, Atsumu, Rei, You, and Suna were in nearly every single one of them. You feel tears prick your eyes at how simple those times were, annoyed at the feeling of nostalgia seeping into your mind.

“Well this fucking sucks.” You whisper to yourself.

“I know, I look terrible in that picture.” A familiar voice states. A tall, lanky man stands beside you. His messy brown hair framing his face perfectly, as he gazes at the photos. You glance at him slightly, realizing who it is and avert your gaze back to the photos. “Seriously, who let me wear that?” He asks, looking over towards you and stifling a laugh at your reaction.

You turn your face to the other side, hoping he hasn’t recognized you. How could he? It’s been what? 3 years? I’ve changed my hair since then, there’s no possible way he’ll know it’s me. Suna lets out a laugh, making your heart ache. You turn to where he was standing and he wasn’t there. You furrow your brows and sigh with relief, but a hint of disappointment. You return your attention to the photos, only to be met with Suna’s chest. You hold your breath and remain still, as he bends down to meet your gaze. His golden eyes peering at you with a mischievous grin on his face, one that you remember all too well.

“Long time no see, angel.”

#suna rintarou #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna fic #suna rintarou fic #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyu x reader #UM HI I HAVENT WRITTEN A FIC SINCE I WAS LIKE 15 AND THEY WERE ABOUT HARRY STYLES #PLS BARE W ME AND BE NICE TO ME #IM A TRIPLE WATER SIGN

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Tom Felton - Risk

A/N - Despite writing this 8 months ago, it hasn’t been uploaded anywhere. I forgot about it until a few days ago, redrafted it, and here we go. With the (not so) recent blow up of Draco-tok and Tom’s increased following, I thought it would be a good time to upload as well, and it has a summer feel to escape the disgracefully bitter winter here in Britain. I do not own the song lyrics used. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own.

Warnings - cursing, legal alcohol consumption, mutual pining, 3.4k words of fluff and angst. Nothing further.

Summary - After your break up, one that pained you to the bone, you try to escape and you find yourself taking that one risk you always thought you should, travelling. A simple day out, and the one person you don’t want to see is the one person who can help you with your car troubles. Could he help with your heart troubles too, over a reminiscent dinner perhaps?

RISK, that’s what this is. You’re taking a risk for once in your life, living a new experience and stepping outside of your comfort zone. That's what you’re supposed to do to get over a particularly brutal break up, isn’t it? So here you are, finding yourself again, exploring places you’ve always wanted to go. Current destination: Cape Town, South Africa. A haven.

You came here on a whim. Looking up some cheap prices from when you were in Barcelona, and surprisingly, you got a good direct flight and hotel deal for more than a reasonable price.

Before your break up, you’d never have dreamt of this. You were content with your life of luxury in LA with your boyfriend after dating for a while, but with his insane work schedule and travelling, you just couldn’t reasonably keep up with the relationship. You felt neglected, work and Willow always coming above you, and you couldn’t just be solely financially reliable on him, even if he was a millionaire. So after a long few days of gruelling arguments, you packed your bags and did what he told you to do.

“Live your life the way you couldn’t do with me holding you back.”

He was sorry, so sorry, heartbroken. I can still see his face when he let me go. Too darling to forget or stay mad at. You’ve just got to find the part of yourself that stayed with him, and maybe you’ll find it half way across the globe in between gorgeous beaches and scenic mountains while staying in a luxurious five star hotel.

Your days have been filled with hiking and swimming, spa days and sunbathing, fancy meals and getting drunk under the stars. But even though you’re living the dream, you haven’t quite found yourself yet. Maybe you will with your sightseeing plans for later on.

This afternoon, after you’ve spent the morning hiking, you’re ready for a calm afternoon back at your hotel, a leisurely swim in the pool to cool down and maybe some sunning on the adjoining beach.

You make your way back to the car you hired, a beat up jeep, but it’s a pleasure to drive around the mountains. But as you walk back there, you see someone. No, it can’t be him. It was just someone with the same hairstyle as him. Wearing the same shirt that he used to wear all the time. And wearing the same glasses. It has to be a coincidence, he can’t be here, it’s just your mind playing tricks.

Part of you even wants him to be here, but the correct part of your brain knows that your longing thought us nothing more than wantonly cohorted, made up from missing him and being away from the last place you could call home. So without another thought, you open the door to the car and climb into the driver's seat. You’re suddenly conscious of the way you’re dressed: canvas shorts with a sun top and billowy button down, but even if it is more of a practical outfit, you still look damn good in it, so calm yourself down.

Starting the car is easier said than done, because as soon as you slot the key in and turn it, the engine vibrates for a few seconds and lets out a low grumble, and then it dies. Internally you curse yourself, and you hit the steering wheel a few times to release some steam. This was always Tom’s area of expertise, you never had to deal with car mechanics, but instead of making it a big deal, you give it a go again, only for the engine to crash again.

Footsteps sound outside the car on the gravel and sand, and then a head appears at your rolled down window, followed by a voice you never thought you’d hear again.

“Need some help, Miss?”

You turn your head so quickly that you feel something pull. No no no, he cannot be here on your get away trip.

He smiles at you lopsidedly until realisation dawns on his face. In that moment, his cheeks fall and his red eyes droop. He is definitely high, but high tom is the best tom, all slow and cuddly.

“W-what are you doing here, Y/N?” he asks incredulously, his enunciated British tone raspy and soothing all at once, grounding you.

“Vacation. Um, you?”

You fumble over your words, scrutinised under the piercing blue of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Filming.” he says.

Even after you split up, you’d never expected it to get this awkward if you ever met again. You’re definitely not over him yet, you can tell by the way butterflies flitter inside your stomach just at the sight of his day-old stubble and the tufts of sun kissed hair that poke out from his cap.

“That’s, um, nice,” you respond and offer him a shy smile, “Would you mind, um?”

He nods and moves around to the hood of the car. You watch as he turns his cap around and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his gorgeously tanned and toned forearms. You lose yourself and all inhibitions as he works to find out the problem, his seamless movements and his cute thinking face that crinkles his forehead and scrunches his nose. How he’s always so willing to help in any circumstance and the undying love that he revels in day after day, it’s like basking in eternal joy whenever you’re around Tom because not a single moment is dull. You can’t help but remember the way it felt when he kissed you, the fire that his touch left in its wake, the gentle way he held you through countless nights.

“Sorted, sweet pea.” he says, leaning against your car door with his head against the window frame.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “No one’s called me that since you.”

The words are out before you can stop them, your sad smile unmoving from your face despite being filled with longing, and it just so happens to match his expression exactly.

“I have to film this afternoon, but how about I take you out for dinner? We can just, I don’t know, catch up? It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve bumped into each other.”

You don’t even have to think before the answer is spilling from your lips rather enthusiastically, a definite yes with a vigorous nod. He chuckles, slipping his hand through the window to clasp yours.

“I still have your number, so I’ll text you a time and place, yeah sweet pea? I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, “bye tom.”

You watch as he walks away before starting the car, your thoughts the whole way back to the hotel filled with nothing but Tom and thoughts for the night. Dinner with your ex really is a risk, but maybe, just maybe if he reciprocated your lingering feelings, it’ll pay off.

No matter how much you want to spend the afternoon carelessly swimming and enjoying yourself, taking in the views all around you and revelling in the South African sunlight, you simply can’t. Every moment you close your eyes, Tom’s smile illuminates your thoughts and fills your body with a prickling longing. It’s a bitter feeling that scares you, unnerving you and forcing you to lose all hope for the night ahead. Your phone buzzes on your way to the spa, thinking maybe a hot stone massage will clear your mind, but you quit when you see what he’s written. You haven’t deleted his number from your phone either.

PAPI ♡ : What hotel are you at? I’ll grab you for dinner at 7. Dress fancy, preferably in that nice black dress I love, but you look perfect in everything. T x

That black dress. The same one you haven’t worn since your last night out before the break up. Maybe you will wear it, maybe you won’t. You tap out a reply, signing with a smiley face and no kisses no matter how much you want to press that x like there’s a gravitational pull, but it just doesn’t feel right in the circumstances.

PAPI ♡ : I’ll be there, sweet pea. T x

That might be Tom’s worst habit of them all. Constantly signing his texts with ‘T’ when you obviously know that it’s him. It used to gnaw at you, especially when he’d send particularly needy texts, multiple in a row, and sign them all the same way, but often, it was rather cute. He always was crap with technology.

All the memories come flying back at a terrifying pace, the different texts calling to you from your phone, begging for you to relive the good old days. No, you can’t. You won’t give in to such an insane impulse. It’s bad enough that you agreed to go to dinner with your ex, you can’t let anything cloud your mind to make you more malleable for the night. So to resist temptation, you throw your belongings down on a sun lounger and grasp a cocktail over a nearby bar, downing it briefly before diving head first and breaking the surface of the water. Maybe a swim will distract you until you have to get ready.

Tom spent his whole afternoon messing up lines. Not for a minute could he focus. His lunchtime beer ended up being drunk faster than he’d wanted to, and he hardly ate a thing, for his stomach was filled with butterflies. Whenever anything was said in the script or on set that linked his mind back to you, he went hazy for a solid minute. Every time he’d try to pull himself together, and would fail, remembering how your hands felt when you tied his hair back or undressed him.

Eventually, it was too much.

“CUT!” the director screamed an hour early. “Stop, just stop. Go home, sleep, come back tomorrow. We haven’t got a single decent shot in hours, Felton.”

Tom gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath a feathering of stubble that had made its way down there. Faintly, he nodded and ran a trembling hand through his hair before pulling a cap on. He rolled his sleeves up briefly, wandered to his dressing room, and fell into a chair, his thoughts whirring around his head too fast for him to form a sensical sentence. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? So, he grabbed his belongings and ran to his car, driving to his hotel to play his sorrows away while awaiting your date.

Once coming in from the pool, you spend a few hours prepping yourself, primping and dressing for the date. You want to look good for Tom, but also for yourself. You always dressed up to feel good about yourself and it was just a bonus that Tom worshipped you, even more when he knew you’d made an extra effort. Curling your hair, dabbing on lipstick, even buckling the straps on your sandals fills your stomach with butterflies and gives you goose bumps all over your skin, already prickling with the blush you received from looking in the mirror. It’s time.

Your walk out to the front of the hotel feels foreign, your ankles wobbling in the heels you decided on, and even as the humid air hits you, you feel a little exposed and chilled. However, any anxiety dissipates when you see Tom walking towards you, a dopey and ever loving smirk on his sun kissed face, crisp chinos with loafers and a billowy button down, loose around the neck. The evening breeze blows the short sleeves up and gives you a peek at the curls of ink that hug his arm in the shape of a dog, the same as how you see the contrast on his ankle between the dark palm trees and his white skin.

You don’t realise you’ve been standing still and tearing apart his every exquisite feature until he’s an inch away from you and his fingers have slipped around your own, holding your hand loosely and keeping you close.

“Hi.” he says, his mouth pulling to a grin.

“Hi.” you return, pacing your fingers with his own more intricately to distract yourself from how crimson your cheeks are.

“Come on,” he picks up his pace back to where he’s parked, “I’ve got a surprise.”

He plays show tunes the whole journey, silly show tunes that put a smile on your face and ones you can’t help but sing along to. He keeps his calloused palm on your knee, brushing some hair behind your ears or sneaking a kiss on your cheeks whenever possible, but the journey isn’t long enough for anything major, nor long enough for you to take apart every piece of hospitality he’s offered you so far. It’s just dinner with an ex, right? Yeah, that is until he pulls up outside a five-star luxury restaurant, complete with a mini ballroom floor and a stage where stands a woman in an evening gown, warbling out in a different language.

“We’re around the back, I have connections.”

His smile is as luminous as the twinkling lights that he’s had arranged in the trees on the back terrace of the restaurant. One table sits with a bottle of wine balanced precariously atop, a single rose in a fluted vase, two wine glasses and sets of cutlery, and with the sun setting and the fairy lights, it’s perfectly ambient. You want to speak, but you can’t find the words. Maybe, if he pulled out all the stops this way, he feels the same as you do.

He pulls your chair out before sitting down himself, pours your glass of rose wine first, and even orders your favourite meal. The amount of times you’ve ordered that very same thing though, it must be ingrained in his mind. Neither of you say a word except for meek thank you’s, and tension fills the air, not ceasing until the waiter delivers a bread platter.

“Oh,” Tom says to the waiter, a little startled, “do you have any crackers? She doesn’t eat bread before meals, or, well, at all.”

The waiter nods and scurries away, but you’re left with a burning blush on your cheeks, anxiously tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You remembered,” you chuckle softly, feeling a little giddy even though its one of your more stupid habits.

“Of course I did, I remember everything about you.”

He reaches over the table and leaves his palm open. You give it a moment of thought before wrapping your fingers around his own, tracing the lines and sun spots. He’s so familiar yet so different, your time apart somehow meeting your shared experiences, the cons outweighing the pros, something causing a barrier.

You engage in small talk while you eat, simple conversations of how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to, only very few anecdotes shared from your past relationship. It feels so natural between the two of you, just the sight of his wispy dark blonde curls is still enough to make your heart flutter, but both of you are holding something back. Nothing changes until you’re half-way through your second bottle of wine, liquid courage making you buzz.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, holding nothing back, taking just one more risk before you close off the Tom chapter of your life for good. “Do you miss us? The way we were? Who we were with each other?”

He doesn’t say a word, only looks at you with heavy blue eyes, pleading.

“Do you miss the way I used to kiss you good morning? The way you’d kiss me goodnight? The good times we had, even the bad. Do you not miss me at all?”

He swallows thickly and takes a heavy swig of wine. He signals to a waiter who clears your dishes, and then he leans on his bare forearms over the table, both of his hands holding yours as he stares into your soul, those mystical ocean eyes boring into your pained soul.

“I miss it all,” he says in his hoarse tone, “I miss you and our life more than you can imagine. If it was up to me, I’d never have let you go, but I couldn’t keep you tied down. So before you leave forever, can we have one nice night and pretend like we aren’t completely fucking broken?”

You see tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks at any given moment. You hold his hands tighter, letting your soft fingers dance up his arms, anything to feel the warmth of his skin against you once more.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” you whisper, Hoping that the sound is blown away with the wind, or disguised by the melodious singing from just inside the restaurant, but no. He hears your words as clear as day.

“Then don’t go. Don’t leave me again. Come back and we’ll make it better, I won’t work, we don’t need to, and you can live out all of your goals too. It’s high time that you come back where you belong, by my side. Don’t leave again, Sweet pea. Please.”

You’ve never heard him sound so desperate. He clings to you, kisses your hands, and when you’re too dumbfounded to respond, he gently pulls you up and brings you upright to a flat area of the terrace.

A sweet and familiar melody flows with the wind and the bird song, softly filling your ears from the restaurant, seeping into your own little circle with Tom. He cradles his forearm around your waist, his hand splayed on the small of your back. His other cups the palm of your hand gracefully as you rest your head on his cloth covered shoulder. He still smells the same, that same mix of smoke and beer and firewood as always, the musk of his aftershave lingering on the expanse of his neck, a faint sweat from the sun clinging to his freckles.

As soon as the lyrics start, you bury your head further into Tom’s neck, chest to chest, keeping him close.

‘Come on skinny love just last a year,

Pour a little salt we were never here,’

“Come home with me and let's pretend you never left.” Tom suggests, swaying in time with the music, your body moving in time with his even if you aren’t particularly responsive to what he’s saying. “It’ll be better now. We can make it better.”

You hum against his neck noncommittal, the vibrations sending warmth through his chest. His hands roam your body, the snug fitting of his favourite dress hugging your body all too familiar to him. It’s muscle memory to trace the contours of your body beneath the black poplin, the gaps of lace giving him a peek to your dappled skin, and the slightly lower neckline still driving him crazy. His chinos hold his legs and give the silhouette of his muscles, tensing as he dances meek waltz steps, his body naturally leading the way for yours to follow, his shirt blowing open more as you hold him closer. His warmth is what you need, his body, his heart, all of him.

“I want to come back, we’ll make it work,” you whisper, toppling between your heels in what somehow resembles a slow dance to the music still coursing through your veins and making you alive.

‘In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines’

“Let's take the risk, sweet pea.”

His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper, illuminating your mind in places that you forgot, his words making your heart flutter. This is it, you love him and you have to go back with him.

‘Come on skinny love…’

“Maybe, “ you start, “Just maybe, this isn’t skinny love anymore.”

Reaching up on your tiptoes and cupping the back of his neck, gently tugging the hair at the nape, you bring his lips down to yours, finally meeting in a kiss, one that’s been months coming. He brings his palms up to your cheeks, holding and caressing while your eyes are squeezed shut, focussing on the deepening massage of his lips against yours. It’s so welcoming, so warming, so homely. This was definitely a risk worth taking.

#tom felton #draco malfoy #tom felton imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco tok #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #tom felton smut #tom felton fluff #draco fan fic #thomas felton

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

How to lash out – A Luthor’s guide.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 3000.

“Stop that, young lady!” Lena’s tone is harsh. You roll your eyes. This isn’t the first time she said that on the drive home. It is also not the first time you rolled your eyes at her today, and probably won’t be the last.

“Oh, come on! You have got to be kidding me.” You go inside the house trying to lose her. “I can’t roll my eyes, or sigh. What else can’t I do now since you’re controlling my every move?”

“Be disrespectful!” Her voice comes from not very far, so you know she’s following you.

“What’s going on?” Kara asks, getting up from the couch when you both enter the living room.

“Mom’s being impossible!” You huff and Lena closes her eyes, really exasperated.

“That’s it! You’re grounded! Go to your room right now!” Lena speaks a little louder and Kara furrows her brows at the whole interaction. It’s not that you and Lena never fight, but there’s usually less yelling, from both parts.

“Why am I not surprised at that?” You ask ironically. “Oh yeah, because that’s your only way to deal with things! Ya boring!”

“Hey!” Kara intervenes and you roll your eyes again. You’ve been rolling your eyes so much tonight, it’s starting to hurt.

“You don’t even know what’s going on and you’re already taking her side!” You cross your arms and harden your features. You’re ready to give them attitude. “Like always.”

“I thought I told you to go to your room, young lady!” Lena says pinching the bridge of her nose and you grunt in response. Rao, you hate the way she says ‘young lady’.

“Why don’t you send me away for good?” Those are your last words before closing your bedroom door so hard you almost broke it in half.

Man, you’re livid. You haven’t been this mad at Lena for a while. She was being very understanding with you these past months, in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you two had a fight. But now the great mother Luthor is back again. It’s like that sometimes. Sometimes she just gets so Luthor is hard not to fight with her.

You hear a knock on the door and you don’t even have to look to the other side to know it’s not Lena. You let out an exasperated sigh.

“What, momma?” Is your opening line.

“Hey!” Kara complains while she opens the door and looks at you so mad, you’re turning red, on the other side of the room. “Do you care to explain what happened?”

“She-she, uh.” You grunt. “She is so unreasonable!”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“What do you want me to say? She is wrong!” You yell and Kara takes a deep breath.

“Ok, listen, I want to know your side of the story, but I’m only going to talk to you when you stop yelling.”

“Oh yeah, mhm, do that. Turn this on me. Rao, you know what? You’re both so predictable!” You’re so angry you can’t stop yelling.

“I’m going to let you breathe a little. We’ll talk in the morning.” Kara leaves again and your hand goes to the closest thing to you. Before you realize, there is a picture frame flying full speed to the door. There’s a loud crashing sound when it hits the floor and you see glass flying everywhere. Kara opens the door again; she was probably not far away.

She looks at the broken picture frame and bends down to pick it up. It’s ironic, because you didn’t look at the picture before throwing it and breaking it. But it’s only when Kara’s face turns into a frown, you realize what picture it was. The three of you are on the beach on your last family vacation.

“Clean it up.”

She closes the door again, taking only the picture with her and you sit on the floor. Tears are streaming down your face, but you’re not sad. You’re just so mad you can’t help but cry.

Morning comes. You roll on your bed. You don’t want to get up. You don’t want to do anything. Usually after a good night of sleep, you wake up feeling guilty for all the yelling and by now you would probably be apologizing to Lena. She would forgive you; you would hug it out and things would go back to normal by night. But you didn’t have a good night of sleep, and you definitely don’t feel like apologizing.

“Kid, time to go to school.” Kara knocks on your door, but she doesn’t go inside. It’s just a wake-up call, you know it. You grunt and turn to the other side.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to go school, you’re so mad. And they are so annoying.

“What are you doing?” Lena opens the door of your room, making a very loud noise, a few minutes later. “You’re going to be late.”

“I have super speed.” You mumble not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being right, but you look at your clock and you have five minutes to go to school or you’ll be late.

“What you have is a bad attitude and I’m sick of it. Get up, get dressed, and go to school. And I better not have to say this again.”

“Or what?” You mumble again, kind of wishing she couldn’t hear you, kind of wishing you hadn’t said it, but unable to stop yourself.

“Oh, you didn’t!” Lena looks at your face and you haven’t seen her this upset in a long time. Maybe the last time was when you burnt down the Christmas tree at Gramm’s house on a dare. “Now!”

You stay in bed.

“I’m so sick of your sighs, and rolling eyes, and your freaking irony all the time!” Lena gets closer to you so she can use her threatening tone. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you better respect me, or I’ll make you.”

You push the blanket to the side and get up from the bed. You leave Lena behind with hair flying all over her face when, after using your super speed, you get ready in two seconds and leave for school. If she wasn’t already pissed, she would be after that.

When school is over, you don’t go to your lab at L Corp, that’s what started the fight in the first place. You go to Jamie’s house so you can vent about your mom being the worst. That’s when Lena calls you.

“Where are you?” That’s really the first thing she says.

“I think you know the answer. Don’t you have a GPS on me?”

“Go home, you’re grounded.”

“See, I knew you knew.”

“Let me make this clear for you. You’re allowed to go to school, training, and home. If you’re not in one of these places, I’ll add another week to your punishment. Starting now.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Oh, but I can. Two weeks now, and if you’re not home in five minutes, I’ll make it three. Oh, and don’t forget that I do have a GPS on you.”

“Rao, you’re the wors-'' Before you finish, she hangs up the phone. You’re glad she didn’t let you finish that word. You go home, because even though you’ve been acting insane, you’re not really crazy. Lena might not have super powers, but she has a lot of power.

Kara is the first one to get home. It’s usually like this, but you can’t help but feel that Lena is stretching her time at work because, just like you, she doesn’t want to come home and deal with all of this.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Kara asks turning the TV off, even though you were watching it. You look at her, already annoyed.

“I really doubt she hasn’t told you everything by now.” You cross your arms and fall further into the couch.

“She has. But you accused me of taking her side without knowing the full story. So, now I want to hear your side.”

“Pulitzer prize awardee, everybody.” You bitch grin and Kara breathes heavily.

“Why are you so mad she went to your lab? What were you making in there that she couldn’t see?” Kara raises an eyebrow at you.

“Nothing! Don’t you get it? That’s not the point!” You cross your arms.

“What’s the point then?”

“She doesn’t trust me.”

“Baby, that’s not true.”

“Really? Are you sure? She put a GPS on grandmother’s necklace! How are you not livid about that? It's a family heirloom and she just tampered it to know my every move.”

“Just as a precaution. She doesn’t use it.” Kara says and you scoff.

“She just used it today!” You take a deep breath and cover your face with your hands so Kara doesn’t see a tear falling. “It’s not about what’s in the lab. Did I ever hide one of my inventions from you two?”

“No.”

“Did I ever hide anything from you two?”

“The dog.” She says with a playful smile, making you frown. “Just kidding, I know you haven’t.”

“It’s just… Every time I walk in there, someone immediately calls her to let her know that. Why? Does she think I’m going full Luthor and that I’m designing a destruction weapon so I can take over the world or something?”

“Baby, no.” Kara sits on the couch next to you. She squeezes your knee gently. “She just wants to be around you. You know, you’re really cool, we just want to be with you all the time.”

“And we are with each other all the time!” You say feeling the anger coming back. You push it down again. “Momma, I’m 15! Most people from my class don’t even talk to their parents anymore. But I’m here, around you guys, all the time! Family Fridays? Aunt Alex’s house every Saturday? Training? L Corp? Home? Isn’t that enough?”

“Well, like I said, you’re really cool.” She says with a smile and let a chuckle out.

“I just want you guys to trust me.” You let your head fall. “I gave you a place to go when you need to be alone, I gave her a lead box so she could hide things from us. And she can’t even give me privacy?”

“Ok. Yeah. I hear you.” Kara holds your head to her chest and you can hear her heartbeat without having to use your super hearing. It’s extremely calming. “Listen, I think you have a point. It’s just, you’re being very aggressive. Maybe you could dial back a little and just talk to her?”

“She didn’t dial back. She didn’t even let me vent to Jamie today. She said I’m only allowed to go home, and school and training.” You can’t hold the tears any longer. “And now she’ll use the necklace against me.”

You and Kara look at the direction of the front door at the same time. Lena walks in, takes off her shoes, and goes to the kitchen. You follow her every move. She fills a glass with whiskey and you look at Kara knowing that’s not a good sign. She drinks so fast you’re surprised she didn’t spill any of it. She fills another glass, grabs her shoes from the ground and makes her way to the living room.

“Go to your room.” She says as soon as she walks in.

“Actually, I…”

“Just do as I say. Trust me, you do not want to get on my bad side right now.”

She’s right. You don’t. So, you silently get up and go to your room. You’re not even inside yet, when you hear Kara (this time without the super hearing).

“That was really harsh. She was about to apologize.” Kara says and Lena scoffs.

“She wasn’t. And I found out what she was making in the lab.” And just like that, you’re mad again.

“Wait, you went through her stuff?”

“You mean my stuff? I’m the one paying for it, I’m the one who gave her the lab, aren’t I?”

“Lena, that's a violation of privacy! You gave her the lab, that means its hers.”

“She’s making a mind wiper, Kara!” You roll your eyes. It’s not a mind wiper. For someone so smart, you can’t believe she’s being so dumb.

“Well, she must have her reasons. We have to trust her.”

“You want to trust a fifteen-year-old girl with a mind wiper?” Lena asks and Kara stands up, upset.

“No Lena.” You should’ve known. They always take each other's sides. “I want to trust our daughter with whatever it is that she is making.”

You didn’t see that coming. You go inside your bedroom and grab your notes. You run back to the living room before Kara leaves, and you throw your notes on the table in front of Lena. You stay on the other side of the room, and you don’t say a word. You see it’s Kara who reaches out to the notebook first.

“It’s called an ‘unwelcome thoughts blocker’.” Kara looks at the drawings and the calculation. “I don’t understand what it is, but the name is not catchy.”

She gives the notebook to Lena, who looks down at it, and then looks at you. She puts her hand on her forehead and focuses on the calculations. She doesn’t say anything for a while and Kara looks at you, curiously.

“When we went on vacation, mom asked me how I turned off my brain so I could enjoy it.” You’re explaining to Kara, because you remember that she was sleeping while this was going on. Lena looks at you too, but you ignore her gaze. “I had the idea of a device that could help you shut off unwelcome thoughts. That way, it could help you focus on something without distractions, or stop bad thoughts that could lead to panic attacks, nightmares, and maybe even suicide.”

“Wow. That’s incredible, little one!” It’s Kara’s reaction. You look back at Lena before she can express any emotion.

“I guess this proves you don’t trust me.” A single tear falls from your eye, and you turn on your heels and go to your bedroom.

“I wanted to believe she was wrong about this trust issue you’re having, but then you went through her stuff and accused her of something very severe.” You hear Kara’s voice coming from behind you. “You know how I feel about you drinking like this, but since you made your choice, I’ll leave you to it.”

Kara sneaks in your bedroom, and lays in bed with you. You two don’t talk for a few minutes, until she lets out a sigh and grabs your laptop on the desk.

“I’ve heard about a TV show where they cover other people’ songs. Do you want to watch it?” She turns the laptop on, and you agree with your head. “I think it’s called Glee.”

You and Kara watch it until you fall asleep. You’re glad she took your side. You’re aware you’ve been acting like a little brat with Lena, but the fact she doesn’t trust you for absolutely no reason at all was really hard.

“Kara.” You hear Lena’s voice and you open one eye, so she doesn’t see you’re up. Your momma is sleeping and drooling next to you. And it’s morning already. “Hey. Wake up.”

“Huh?” Kara wakes up confused. It’s clear she didn’t want to sleep in your bedroom as she looks around to finally realize where she is.

“Can I speak to our daughter, please?” Lena asks and you take a deep breath. Kara doesn’t say anything. She puts your laptop back on the desk, and leaves your bedroom. Lena sits on your bed next to you, and pulls you in so you can lay your head on her lap. She then plays with your hair. “Do you want to keep pretending you’re asleep while I talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” She chuckles. “I’m sorry. You were right.”

“That’s a first.” You mumble and you can hear her smiling.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” Lena takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have gone through your stuff, it’s just that your reaction scared me so much. I know you’re so much better than me, but you did exactly what I used to do with Lillian when I didn’t want her to see something.”

“You’re not Lillian and we don’t have the same relationship you two have. You don’t have to control me like she did with you.”

“I know, baby.” Lena says. “You’re right again.”

“Well, that’s the second time in less than two minutes. We should stop it before it becomes a habit.” You say making her laugh again, and this time you also smile. “I’m sorry I was rude. I shouldn’t have aggravated the situation. I felt cornered and I lashed out. That was awful.”

“It was painful. We both lashed out in the worst way possible.”

“We’re Luthors, after all.” You feel a kiss on the top of your head.

“We’re Luthor-Danvers. We might get upset, but we know how to recognize our mistakes and apologize.” You hold her leg and her hands go back to your hair. “So, I’m really sorry, babygirl. The lab is yours, and I’m only going in when you invite me. How does that sound?”

“You can go in anytime. Just maybe don’t make Aly call you every time I show up at L Corp? And, maybe, don’t use the necklace’s GPS unless you have reasons to believe something’s wrong?”

“I promise.”

“And I promise I’ll be more respectful.” You look at her and she is about to open her mouth when you add. “I’ll dial back the rolling eyes and the irony.”

“Great.” She strokes your cheek. “The invention is amazing. You are amazing. I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“I love you, babygirl.” Lena smiles at you and you can’t help but do the same.

“I love you, mom.”

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #kara x lena #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #lena x reader #supercorp daughter #reader insert

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eclectickss · 3 years

Text

PGATW Part 6

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x OC (fem!reader)

Summary: The avengers take a vacation to a private island rental off of the Georgia coast! You now have an opportunity to spend time with your new family, especially Wanda and Natasha.

Word Count: 2.1K

Check out my main post for links to the rest of the parts. Third part of the day! I was just looking for excuses to post this, so I caved. Also I decided to add a small plot so that this wouldn't go on forever, so apologies if chapter posts take a bit longer! Also I extended expected length to 10 chapters... small warning though, i have commitment issues <3 (i've never written more than five parts to anything before, so roll with me on this one...) ~el

After what felt like hours (but was probably only 20 minutes), everyone was finally off of the plane and split between the three cars that you all were supposed to have for your vacation.

You managed to get a window seat, but peter ended up with the middle and Wanda on the other side. Pietro took the open shotgun and Nat was asked to drive, and now you were all squished in the car, on the way over to the bridge.

"So," Pietro started. "Wanda got Natasha and Talia? I'm impressed, sister." A grin tugged at his lips while everyone sat in shock. The silence was thick, and you were desperate for someone to break it. Even Peter looked nervous, but you knew that he would never tell anyone. The three of us weren't being that obvious, were we?

"Oh, come on," He mocked. "I'm your brother, Wanda. I notice things. I didn't think anyone else caught on though, you three were acting rather normal for all being in a relationship, though. But you never know! It's only day one, I'm pretty sure, so you all better watch yourselves." Pietro smirked.

"Thank you, brother, for looking out for me." Wanda sarcastically grumbled. "I didn't know you cared about my private life." He laughed.

"Of course I care, sister. Did Peter know about this, though? I would feel a little bad if he didn't."

" No- yeah... yeah I uhh- I knew. Yep. I knew." Peter nearly whispered next to you.

"Oh ok, that's good. That could have been really awkward."

"Yeah..." You managed to push out.

"So Talia," He started again, wishing the only thing he could do would be to shut up. You briefly thought about portaling out of the car and into one of the others, but you didn't want to leave everyone else at the will of Pietro. "How did the two of them ask you? Was it really awkward? Did my sister get shy? "Did Natasha get all flustered and soft?" The assassin and the witch glared at him, but he paid no mind. The two of them were obviously getting annoyed with Pietro's behavior, so you decided to do something about it.

"Actually, Pietro, it was really sweet." You smirked and you could feel everyone's eyes on you, even Natasha who was taking quick glances into the rearview mirror. "Yeah no, when they actually asked me to join their relationship, I didn't believe them at first. I thought they were fucking with me because I had been crushing on them for so long. Turns out, in Wanda's exact words, 'We're not fucking with you, Talia, we just want to fuck you.' really romantic shit if you ask me." Wanda's cheeks were bright red, but at least she was smirking. The boys looked uncomfortable, Pietro most importantly. You could apologize to Peter later.

"Oh yeah, Dude. No, your sister also has really talented fingers too, coming from someone who's seen them in action. She got Nat down hard. It was hot." You caught Natasha's wink in the mirror. "Yeah she called me a 'good girl' as she watched me cum too... her cunt tastes really good, Pietro. I'm sure she could say the same thing about mine." You finished your speech with a shit-eating grin.

"Forget I asked." The speedster turned back in his seat, not daring to make eye contact with you. You looked over to Peter and mouthed an "I'm sorry", but he just awkwardly shrugged it off.

"It's fine. It was worth it." He mouthed back, still obviously uncomfortable, but with a small smile on his face. You wanted to laugh but didn't want to interrupt the new silence as you continued on your drive to the bridge.

You noticed another bridge on the way, imagining that went to a bigger island in the area. There was a lot of traffic around it, so you assumed there was something else to go and check out later.

A little further down the coastal road, a mini-golf course drew your attention. You made a mental note, wanting to check that out later too.

The coolest thing though was the bridge. It had its own gate near the entrance, which all three cars had clickers to.

"Alright ladies plus Peter, welcome to your home for the next two weeks," Natasha smirked behind the wheel as you laughed at the absence of Pietro's name. He didn't dare say anything as you stared at the view from the bridge.

It was gorgeous yet simple. The marshes seemed to stretch forever as you spotted different types of wildlife that roamed the area. Everyone was silent in the car as they took in the view, happy to be exploring new surroundings.

From the top of the bridge, you could see two other islands both off in opposite directions, but they both looked like they were regular tourist destination spots, making you happy that you got to be on a peaceful island in the middle of all of it. You still wanted to check out the other areas, so you pocketed that adventure plan for another day.

As you drove onto the island, you began to notice how small it actually was, but that didn't really bother you too much, seeing as the only house that sat on it was big and beautiful.

It looked slightly worn out from the elements, but it also felt real and authentic. You liked it. There were two stories that you could see, and the front was grand. There were stairs off to the left side leading up to the main entrance, and two garage doors off to the right. Underneath the main part of the house was just a concrete space with beach access, and you could see the dunes from your spot in the car. You were excited.

"Hey, Web Kid, you ready to do some exploring? " You grinned at the person next to you.

"Hell yeah Tal." The two of you high-fived as you caught Wanda's eye roll.

"Natasha, you in? Wanda seems to think it won't be any fun." Natasha laughed.

"You know it." The spy gave a wide grin.

"I never said that!" Wanda exclaimed as Nat finally turned the car off.

"You looked like it..." You teased, making direct eye contact with her.

"Fuck you, Talia!" She laughed as she raced to get out of the car and ran around to your door, but you were already running to the house with Peter and Natasha on your heels when she reached your side.

"I get the biggest room and ladies chose first!" Tony yelled after you as the witch chased everyone in the house. Pietro just sat in the car, happy to be out of that mess.

Wanda almost ran into the three of you in the house as you all were stopped, gaping in awe at the rental home.

"Damn," You breathed.

The front room was a big, tall cylinder with wooden stairs curving up the wall to your left. From where you were standing, you could see straight into a big living room-like area, and just off to the right seemed to be a big kitchen.

The four of you walked into the kitchen slowly, taking everything in, especially you and Peter. Off to your right, There was a grand entrance to the first bedroom in the house, which you guessed was right above the two-car garage. Peeking in, you saw a big king bed and a bathroom off to the side, as well as what appeared to be a large closet.

"Guess I found Tony's room." You snickered at the fact that he didn't get an ocean view, as well as it is right about the garage and right off of the main living area.

Around the corner and down the hall, you all found four smaller rooms on the right, all with queen beds and small bathrooms. They all looked similar too, and now you were happy that you got the first room choice. Down in the far corner of the main space was the laundry area with the only washing machine in the house. Why would something this big only have one washing machine? You internally shrugged.

"Let's head upstairs." Everyone followed your lead. As you passed the main entrance, you saw everyone else unpacking the cars outside. Boring, you thought.

At the top of the stairs was a small space with a balcony that looked into the living room, as well as a wonderful view of the ocean and beach The sixth bedroom was off to the left, with double doors. You opened it, and the second you did, you could see it in Peter's eyes that he wanted it. It was a thin and long room... definitely an odd shape... but you could see its charm. There was a queen bed on the ocean side, and the space was just wide enough to fit two dressers on either wall. The bathroom and closet were on the other side of the room, and it all felt simple, relaxing, and quiet.

"It's all your's, Peter." You smiled.

"Uhh, really? You three get first pick..."

"Yeah. Perks of spending time with the women. Plus, I think Nat and Wanda are going to want the room on the other end. This is a little small." You laughed, remembering seeing another set of double doors at the end of the hall.

"Ok, awesome!" He left the room and headed back towards the stairs.

"Don't you wanna look at the rest of the rooms before you get your stuff?" You shouted at him.

"No, it's fine! You all go on without me!" He disappeared. You realized he probably just didn't want to be in the middle of you three picking rooms, so you understood. Once he was gone, though, Nat spoke.

"Talia," You turned to her. "We understand that you only mentioned Wanda and me in a room, but you know that you are welcome to join us, right?" You smiled.

"Yeah, I assumed." You went to softly kiss Natasha. "But not yet." Wanda rubbed your shoulders. "In my own time, I promise. I just need to know I have a private space for a bit, ok?" You leaned into the witch's touch. "I'll probably spend a lot of time in there though, don't worry." Smirking, you turned to kiss Wanda.

"You don't have to explain anything to us, baby girl." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, as did Wanda.

"I know. I wanted to." That made everyone smile, and you wanted the moment to last a little longer, but you also didn't want to make it awkward. "C'mon. Let's go check out the rest of the rooms." You grabbed their hands and left Peter's room.

The hallway across from you was lined with doors to the remaining 5 bedrooms and another railing peering over the first floor right before the end. Two doors were on left and the final two were on the right, with the last one with french doors at the end of the hall.

The two street rooms on the right were both a little different but had the same idea. They shared a bathroom, though, which Tony failed to mention, so your last two options were the ocean views on the left. The one closer to the stairs reminded you of all the rest of the rooms, but your heart really fell in love with the second one. It was a little bit more of a re-designed rec room than a bedroom, with a big window looking out to the coast, but also an open railing with a rod curtain that peered over the first-floor kitchen and dining space to the right. Two the left was the closest and bathroom that were clearly last-minute additions, but you didn't mind. The best part of the room, though, was the placement of the bed. A queen bed sat elegantly under the big window, and you knew it was perfect.

"I love it." You grinned.

"Really?" Wanda's nose scrunched. "It's not that private..." She said, glancing over the railing.

"I can pull the curtain, silly." You rolled your eyes. "It's quirky. I want it."

"Ok... whatever you like, princess." You punched her arm.

"C'mon. Let's go see your room. Know what I'm getting into." You smirked, making your way to the final bedroom in the house.

While the room was a lot smaller than Tony's, it was much more valuable. There was a king bed placed right under a large, angled window that looked out to the water, as well as a light bathroom with a stand-up shower that shared the same view. It was gorgeous, and you were a little jealous. Only a little bit.

"I think it's lovely." You shined. "Let's go get our shit." Everyone laughed and followed you out and down the steps.

You were going to have an amazing vacation.

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lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

tiger getting small while on vacation and she suddenly becomes paranoid that everyone can hear her (throwback to an old blurb of yours when she wasn’t getting that small yet) so she is panicking everytime they’re intimate, which bill is not going to let slide. he just wants her to let it out, but the poor bean is so anxious, she shuts down. it gets to the point where she can’t even enjoy herself in other aspects, like a dark cloud, so bill secretly switches them to a cute little cottage in the middle of nowhere and fucks her real good. she tries to hold back, but he coaxes her, and when she lets it out? bill thinks he’ll just pass out. her moans this time are those soft high pitched one because she’s just so small. she probably starts crying. i’m such a needy bitch lately idk what’s wrong with me.

Bish I am so here for this.

I think tiger is pretty vocal most of the time, just because her Big Dude hits it so good that she can't even hold it back, and most times she's so small for him and so spaced out that she doesn't even register how loud she's being, the moans she can't stop, the guttural sounds as she's blissed out. And like, for his part Bill loves it. It's his favourite sound in the world, when she whines for him, when he knows he's making her feel good. Bill wants all of it, wants her to yell and scream if she has to, cry, hell she can make goat sounds for all he cares--it's all good.

And while I am absolutely here for the times tiger has had to be real quiet when they're at his family's house, just to switch things up a little, what if this is like....a friend's vacation again? And there are so many elements to this.

Their friends don't know about them, so maybe tiger and Bill are still booking separate rooms like idiots. And maybe Bill always kind of speaks to the resort ahead of time, asks for two rooms to be conveniently located waaaaaayyyyy the hell on the other side of the complex so they don't have to worry so much and can sneak around a bit easier. It usually works like a charm--except this time. This time, somehow, all of the friends end up getting rooms that are side by side down a long hallway.

So there's this added factor that Bill can't be seen coming and going from her room, especially in partial states of undress, because that's weird. They can't have sex snuggle on the balcony, which is like their favourite thing to do in the wee hours of the night and into the break of dawn.

So not only is tiger worried about making noise--oh no no friend, we're taking it a step further here--she's worried about getting caught so she is like, flat out dead bolting her door so Bill can't even come in. And he's getting pissed because she keeps wearing those sundresses and she's covered in tanlines and he's going crazy, she's getting pent up because god he's just so bronzed and so golden and his eyes are so clear and green.

He finally manages to talk some sense into her, no doubt vaguely threatening, and he promises her that he'll be careful. He promises her that no one will see him sneak into her room. Maybe he even does it real casual like, steps out into the outdoor hallway at 1AM, leans on the post, has a smoke--and then just conveniently walks into tiger's room two doors down, instead of his own.

And god, it feels good. It's been too long and this whole forbidden element really gets her going but now she has another problem--she's worried someone is going to hear. Their friends are on either side and the walls at this resort are paper thin, and tiger is focusing so hard on staying quiet that nothing else is working for her. She's frustrated, her eyes are clenched so tight she has tears coming from them, and the only thing she can focus on is just...not making a sound. She's can't focus on how good he smells. She can't focus on how soft his lips are, how warm his tongue is, how blond his hair looks in the glow of the moonlight. She can't focus on it, because if she does she'll lose control and she's terrified someone will hear her.

"You can let go sweet girl," he tries to reassure her, tries to get her to release all those moans he loves to hear so much, "It's okay if they hear you. They know you're here. I'll be quiet."

But tiger just shakes her head. And god the poor girl needs a release so bad, but she just can't get there because she's so worried. And Bill has a rule that like, if tiger doesn't get there--then he doesn't, either. Because that's not fair. So he begrudgingly puts an end to their night, still hard as a rock, and just takes her in his arms for cuddles instead. And tiger feels even more terrible because she knows he needs a release, she wants to give him that, but he won't let her.

And I think the final straw for Bill is when he wakes up at 4AM to tiger's feet pushing on his butt, telling him to get out of bed and that he needs to leave and go back to his own room. Bill is pissed, and he gives her the stank eye the whole day.

He is absolutely unwilling to go this entire vacation without some good lovin', and without being able to wake up with tiger snug in his arms, sucking softly on his thumb. It's just not going to happen. Bill doesn't care if he has to pack up his shit and fly to another fucking resort--it's happening.

He bristles at her the whole day, like a petulant child. He tones is down a lot when he can see that she's actually getting small on him, when he can tell that she's spiralling a bit and really thinking that she did something wrong. He puts his hand on her back as they head to the bar for another round of drinks, rubbing softly.

"You're good for me sweet girl," he coos in her ear, "You're so good for me."

"You're mad," she mumbles, "...at me."

"I'm not mad at you kid," he reassures, "I just need you so bad."

She bites her lip, hiding a shaky sigh and he crowds her space a bit more.

"Are you going to let me fix it?" he asks, "Let me take care of it, so I can have you?"

She looks at him with those big eyes, and his heart fucking stops.

"I need to have you," he murmurs to her, "Will you let me fix it?"

She nods, subtly, and he smiles gently at her.

"Good girl," he says, "My good girl."

And he disappears for a little while that afternoon, reappearing only around dinner time. He finds tiger at the beach bar, playing cards with a few from the group.

"There you are," he says, "I've been looking for you, kid."

He plops a kiss on her head, and nobody flinches--that's pretty normal for them.

"What's up, bud?" she asks.

"We have that excursion in 30 minutes. You didn't forget, did you?"

Tiger catches on real quick.

"Oh shit, I totally did," she says as she stands, " Sorry bud. Let me go uh...grab my stuff."

Bill extends his hand to her, helps her climb over a few legs and over the table.

"See you guys in a bit," he waves a hasty goodbye to the group, and starts walking with her back to the lobby.

"Lobby in 15 minutes. An overnight bag, sunscreen, that bikini I love," he tells her lowly as she takes a mental note of what she needs, "Oh, and tiger?"

She looks up at him, a little thrill running down her spine.

"No panties."

She has to stop the little giggle from escaping, has to physically refrain from skipping to her room to grab her things. And for his part, Bill barely just catches his own hand as it was on its way to a firm smack on her ass.

She meets him as instructed, and he's leaning against a powder blue car from the 1950s that is so typical in these small tropical towns.

"M'lady," he opens the car door for her, helping her into it before going to the other side. He looks comically large in the car, more so than usual, and tiger chuckles.

"Can you even drive here?" she asks. He gives her a mischievous smirk.

"Let's find out."

it takes about 20 minutes. Tiger holds his phone up and dictates the directions--but eventually the little car starts chugging up a hill, and tiger is trying to ignore how turned on she's getting watching Bill expertly switch gears, manipulate the stick shift, get the car up that goddamn hill like a boss--and the she sees it. This beautiful villa, sprawling, she can already see the infinity pool and humongous outdoor deck and the floor to ceiling windows, but most of all--she can't see anything, or anybody else. The villa stands alone, at the top of a mountain.

"Bill--" she starts, but it's cut off abruptly when his big hand covers her mouth. He doesn't say anything, just leans over and kisses her deeply. So deeply that they get a bit lost in it because goddamn it feels good to be able to do that again, but he snaps to his senses when tiger starts trying to crawl over the console and straddle his lap.

"Inside," he says breathlessly, "Let's go inside."

It's a hasty entrance. The bags are thrown by the entryway. The champagne that Bill had chilling on ice since the afternoon is ignored. Food will be delivered later, and he purposely chose a time where he knew they'd be able to get a few rounds in before they were disturbed. He shakes out his shoulders, trying to reel in his desire for just a second, and right as he's about to tell tiger to get on her knees he turns and sees that she's already kneeling for him.

"Good girl," he praises, walking over to her. He looms over her, snapping his fingers so she meets his eyes, and he takes her chin in his hand.

"Tiger, I have rules tonight."

"Yes," she murmurs, "Okay."

She mouths at his thumb, tries to close her lips around it, and he gives it to her. Her shoulders relax as she all but deflates.

"No panties for the next 24 hours. If I see them on you, I'm ripping them off," he says, "Understand?"

"Yes," she sighs breathily.

"You get everything you want tonight sweet girl, but if it's too much, then you tell me," he says, "Understand?"

"Yes."

"What are your words?"

"Yellow," she murmurs around his thumb, "Or pineapple."

He nods curtly.

"Last rule, and the most important one," he pulls his thumb from her mouth so that he has her full attention, shushing her harshly when she whines.

"If you're quiet for longer than 3 seconds, if the walls don't fucking shake with your moans for me, I'll fucking stop," he snarls, "Do you understand me?"

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #sub tiger #vacation bill

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3 intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc. words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn.

summary: "...and there was only one bed." - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you.

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID.

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point.

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.”

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes.

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks.

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do.

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation,

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again.

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape.

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times.

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding.

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset.

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all.

That’s enough.

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue.

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice.

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.”

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.”

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.”

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone.

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.”

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you.

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.”

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.”

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.”

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.”

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it.

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created.

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her.

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.”

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.”

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching.

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.”

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you.

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point.

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.”

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.”

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.”

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious.

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years.

Shut up.

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.”

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?”

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you.

“Thank you. Jump in.”

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine.

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road.

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile.

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave?

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him.

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour.

It happened more often than he’d like to admit.

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed.

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself.

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one.

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest.

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him.

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails.

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you.

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death.

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed.

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different.

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend.

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes.

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp.

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary.

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.”

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive.

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.”

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning.

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.”

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.”

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?” You hear yourself ask.

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.”

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.”

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.”

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully.

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest.

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.”

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.”

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first.

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow.

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.”

He laughs, and you tell him.

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge.

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.”

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile.

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.”

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce?

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death.

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.”

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.”

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks.

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.”

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door.

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag.

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part.

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him.

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him.

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think.

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive.

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you.

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way.

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.”

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?”

I love you.

Shut up.

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.”

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips.

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him.

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close.

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep.

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart.

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch.

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing.

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep.

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change.

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him.

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose.

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light.

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his.

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now.

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him.

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son.

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side.

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find.

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now.

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you.

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head.

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal.

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.”

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.”

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else.

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach.

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all.

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.).

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.”

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.”

“DoJ, in Quantico.”

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.”

Carson, that’s it.

“No shit!”

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure.

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.”

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine.

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is.

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in.

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Always.”

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it.

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile.

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron.

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other.

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.”

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.”

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.”

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest.

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.”

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron.

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron.

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway.

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.”

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.”

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.”

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.”

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off.

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night.

Don’t get comfortable.

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more.

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you.

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it.

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.”

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude.

What?

Now is not the time.

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend.

He is your friend.

I know but that…sucks.

It doesn’t have to.

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.”

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.”

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone.

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm.

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day.

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself.

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three.

“We work together.”

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.”

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand.

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home.

But God, he’s good at it.

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together.

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought.

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack.

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms.

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too.

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together.

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him.

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner.

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants.

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower.

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower.

What if you just -

Do not finish that thought.

You are not one iota of fun.

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone.

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder.

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.”

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?”

Ah. So it is Emily.

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan.

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress.

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.”) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts.

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter.

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.”

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.”

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you.

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on.

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all.

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant.

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far.

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.”

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless.

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you.

“Darling!”

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.”

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.”

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.”

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?”

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.”

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.”

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.”

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you.

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.”

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you.

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.”

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.”

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.”

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie.

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better.

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.”

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath.

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure.

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.”

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.”

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.”

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play.

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions.

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face.

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.”

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that.

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you.

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died.

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.”

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff.

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.”

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts.

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands.

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable.

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.”

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend.

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items.

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up.

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light.

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers.

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon.

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his.

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you.

“Good morning,” he says.

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.”

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

Don't read into that.

I’m going to.

Don’t.

Fuck.

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way.

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up.

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout.

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!”

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man.

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?”

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home.

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second.

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.”

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.”

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack.

“Hey bud!”

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation.

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.”

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice.

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest.

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat.

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?”

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.”

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.”

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.”

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh.

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.”

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.”

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on.

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute.

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world.

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse.

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something.

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door.

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.”

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.”

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands.

Fuck.

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