#I’ve gone for so long with it just being a crack and for peeps to mistaken it for a little tooth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

312 notes · View notes

afeb · 3 years

Text

Bucky Barnes - Salvation

long and kinda slow-burn :)

“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.

“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.

I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.

I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.

Fuck.

Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?

“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.

“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.

“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”

I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.

“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.

Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”

“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.

“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.

“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.

I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.

“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.

“Nice place.” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”

He nodded. “Anything special?”

I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”

“That would be...nice.” He smiled.

I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.

“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.

“You’re being very kind.” He said.

“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.

He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”

I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.

“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”

I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.

“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”

He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”

His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.

The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”

His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”

He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.

“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”

“Thank you.”

“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.

It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.

We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”

I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”

His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”

I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”

He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”

He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.

Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.

To James B -

Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N

I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.

From James B -

Hey! No worries. Heading over now.

I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.

“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.

James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”

“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.

After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.

“Done.”

“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”

James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”

“Thank you James.”

“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“Yeah,”

We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.

“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.

I cocked a brow. “No, you?”

“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”

I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”

“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”

“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.

“Why would you think that?” He frowned.

“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”

Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”

I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.

“I forgive you.”

Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.

“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.

��You aren’t.” I promised.

“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.

“Then do something good.”

His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.

“Please,” he mumbled against me.

“Yes.”

Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.

“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.

“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.

His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.

“There?” I nodded at his question.

His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.

“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.

“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”

I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.

“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.

“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.

“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.

“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.

I bucked my hips. “Please,”

I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.

I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“

“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.

I nodded and cried. “Yes!”

“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”

“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”

My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.

“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.

“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.

We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.

“I already...just then...” he blushed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.

I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”

He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”

#bucky #barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian #stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel smut

521 notes · View notes

jojo-reader-hell · 3 years

Note

BRO I JUST A TOP TIER GAY IDEA. SO OUR FAVORITE HAIR STAND BABE GETS JEALOUS BECAUSE SOME CHICK KEEPS LIKE LOOKING HER AND KOICHI UP AND DOWN. SO SHES ALL "BITCH KOICHI IS MINE STEP OFF", AND CLASSMATE IS LIKE "Girl I ain't checking HIM out boo 👀"......IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITES

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA TO REQUEST THIS WHEN IM BEING A SAD PINING GAY FOR MY GIRLFRIEND.

You think she didn’t notice you staring at them? Staring with those big ol eyes?

Wrongo bucko.

You stared in class at them. Stared when they walked out of the school building, stared when she showered her handmade gifts on him. It was nauseating.

The smell of infidelity, it was something she could get a whiff of in the air like a beagle locked on the scent of butthole balloon cocaine at a TSA checkpoint. Be it if Koichi had a new love interest, or someone was interested in him. Not something someone as paranoid as her would be able to miss even if there were thousands of life’s distractions to put her off the scent. She caught you the first time when she had finally invited Koichi to a cozy little cafe setting, waltzing on by like you didn’t follow him part of the way and glance longingly at their love. She wasn’t fucking stupid. Yukako knew what a longing glance was, and she was going to wring your neck out for it.

Every single time she caught you staring you ran, face turning red as a beet as you scurried away from the scene. At one moment she got so caught up in Koichi’s hesitation that she spilled her coffee and screamed at him.

She also decided after that date and confession got tainted that she was going to slam your face into the pavement, because after she returned from showing that class rep bitch who Koichi really belonged to, she saw you sucking up to him, trying to get sympathy from her one true love. You both were in an empty classroom, Koichi patting your back as you wailed in agony at his feet, kneeling on the floor.

How dare you... how dare you make a move on him behind her back.

You were twisting your skirt in knots, probably trying to make sure he got a peep of your underwear. From where she stood she could see it was a rose print pattern. What a fucking... you were just after one thing weren’t you?!

“How could anyone love me?!” she heard you blubber like a dying walrus. “I... I’ve never even had a boy like me. I’m so stupid and ugly and worthless-...”

“Hey hey hey!”

Yukako was seething. Spewing lava and hate when she saw Koichi lunge to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you got your filthy pedestrian tears all over the blazer of his uniform.

“Don’t talk like that...” Koichi’s voice was so soft, so kind, nothing like Yukako had ever heard before.

“You’re not any of those things. I think you’re beautiful and smart, and funny, and anyone who can’t see that has got to be blind! I think you’re very sweet and lovable too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah! Totally, I mean if you were even interested I’d even go out with you!”

Now, it didn’t help that you had essentially turned the knife counter clockwise in her chest, sealing your fate forever to be just another teen casualty. Because her mounting rage was of Friday the 13th proportions, ready to burst through the window of your room with a machete in the dead of night and hang your entrails like fairy lights around your wall. She knew when she’d do it too. She was going to patiently bide her time and wait for your little “heart to heart” to end, lurking at the edge of the shadows and planning to ambush you when you least expect it.

That was the plan originally. She was waiting for you after school when there were no witnesses, confident she would get you. But how could she have any clue... Not the faintest idea of what to do came to her mind when she heard you cry out her name.

“Yukako! Yukako Yamagishi, I love you!”

She whipped around, almost too angry to hear what you said until she found herself immobile. You’d taken her hands, nearly falling out of your penny loafers when you leaned in, and you kissed her right on the mouth.

The whole time her eyes were wide open in shock. The mounting rage she felt... the burning flames of hatred, where did it go?! Suddenly her first kiss was gone and she noticed you didn’t really know what else to do from there because all you did was give her a quick peck and you were already shaking and out of breath.

She didn’t even focus that long on her kiss being taken by another girl, too busy wondering what had changed as she watched your eyes glitter wetly with tears.

“Yukako, I’ve loved you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. I think you’re wonderful, and I don’t care if I’m weird or wrong or whatever, because I love you so much it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Yukako blinked. That’s all she could do. Didn’t really have the coherence to do much else except blink owlishly at you. All her feelings were in such a jumbled mess, like clothes in a dryer.

“I... I’m not good at sewing or cooking, I can’t give you material things like a sweater with love in the stitches or some adorable box lunch... I don’t even have money to buy you expensive presents. All I have is a heart full of all my love to give, and I’d do anything to make you happy. Will you... will you be my girlfriend?”

It was as if the fire that burned brightly in her heart had burned so hot and fast that every bad feeling, every negative thought or psychotic fantasy she had about you had suddenly gone up in smoke. Every single part of Yukako’s consciousness seemed only left to ash. You didn’t want Koichi. She heard that part as you continued to babble on helplessly despite her silence, completely unsure of how to respond as she learned the obsessive thoughts she had about one person had been the thoughts you had for her. You continued to pour out your heart, not giving her one opportunity to speak. Anyone could hear it in the way that you were talking to her that you were on the verge of breaking down into tears. Your face was contorted into embarrassment, from the kiss she could feel the heat of your cheeks radiating on her clammy skin. You were still holding her hands and she felt her whole body vibrate because of your nerves.

“Yuka-... I... Yamagishi?! I... I’m sorry...!” Now your voice was starting to crack when you realized she was immobilized. “I... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have kissed you... I...”

Tears. Great fountains of tears and bubbles of snot appeared and melted like ice cream down your cheeks, lips and chin. Your voice only got more choppy and your legs started to give. Her silence was deafening. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore and could only just watch as you sank to her knees, still holding her hands and not making a move to wipe your face.

Without thinking, she squeezed your hands.

The shock of her touch made you squeak like a mouse being crushed under a combat boot. Yukako knelt down to the floor with you. One of her perfectly embroidered hankies peeped out of her skirt pocket, and she only let go of one hand to fish it out as she carefully wiped every tear and bubble, wordlessly telling you to blow your nose as she placed the cloth over your face.

A soft, pale hand touched your burning cheeks. Her skin was so clammy and cold, like a compress when you had a fever it helped soothe you into calming down. A hiccup sounded in your chest, making you look small and vulnerable.

You looked her in the eyes. Locked with her. She saw the passion. The love. The devotion and pure worship. Everything she wanted staring her in the face.

Still unsure, but willingly, Yukako leaned into your space. Her lips cushioned yours, begging for another first kiss.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jjba diu #jjba diamond is unbreakable #yukako is gay #yukako yamagishi #yukako yamagishi x reader #wlw #yandere mention #jjba #jjba x reader #koichi hirose

229 notes · View notes

grace-writes-shit · 3 years

Text

When My Back Was Turned (Ezio Auditore X Reader)

Words: 3645

Warnings/Themes: Injury, Violence, Blood, Not Quite Character Death, Angst, Fluff

Characters/Pairings: Ezio x Reader, Claudia, Mario, Maria (briefly mentioned)

A/N: This is just something I’ve been working on and finally decided to post. I almost didn’t. This isn’t the whole story that I wrote, there is more to the ending, but it felt too rushed for me to want to post it. Some background information for this one, I imagined the reader/ this character as ten years younger than Ezio. And in a form of self-indulgence, she comes from a world where AC is just a game, but I imagine it also has it’s version of Templars and Assassins that no one knows about. Thanks for reading!

They limped up to the villa, having abandoned their horses at the stables at the entrance to the village. Eyes had been glued to the battered pair from the moment they had approached. He wasn’t as badly beaten as she was, only sporting a split lip, a sprained wrist, and various cuts and bruises. He held her upright with an arm gently around her waist. He didn’t want to jostle her bruised, possibly fractured, ribs or her recently dislocated shoulder. She was bleeding from multiple wounds along her face and hands.

They were on their way to what was supposed to be a simple visit to Monteriggioni that turned into an ambush by some mountain bandits. Ezio had made it out relatively well and was already running away, thinking that his wife was just behind him. However, her shout of surprise told him otherwise.

As she had been about to follow him, a couple bandits grabbed her. And before she knew it, they had shoved her over the cliff face. It felt like she had rolled for hours when it had been mere seconds before her hand grabbed onto a young tree sprouting from the rock. It groaned and cracked under her added weight and threatened to break. Upon catching herself, her already damaged body smacked the rock and a sickening pop sounded as her arm left its socket.

Ezio had immediately jumped into action, swiftly dispatching the remaining attackers, and rushing to the cliff's edge. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight of her clinging to that sapling for dear life. She was too far down for him to grab her and she definitely wouldn��t be able to climb back up with her shoulder. Thinking fast, he stripped the cloaks and capes from the fallen bandits and tied them together into a makeshift rope. She could barely keep a hold of it as he pulled her back up to safety.

He held her close to him, petting her sweaty and bloody hair. He whispered comforting words to her as she shook against him. He knew she was scared of heights and falling, the reason for her refusing to free-run on certain buildings and to do a Leap of Faith, unless absolutely necessary. However, in this situation, she hadn’t been in control and it terrified her.

Once she had quieted down, Ezio sat her up properly and told her he needed to reset her shoulder. She had nodded somberly and let him pop it back into place without a peep. Ezio almost found it amusing how she can take the pain of a dislocated shoulder with only a wince, but she couldn’t handle heights. But now wasn’t the time to tease her.

Recovering their horses that had run off with their packs, the pair made their way back to Monteriggioni.

A doctor was already waiting for them as they entered the villa, some kind villager sending for one when they saw the two. Mario and Claudia stood with the doctor, the older female’s hands over her mouth, and Y/N was practically unconscious by the time they made it to the trio.

Mario swept up to take the woman into his arms, allowing Ezio to cradle his wrist and follow them into their shared room. (Y/n) was placed gently on the bed and the doctor immediately began his treatment. Ezio collapsed into the chair at the foot of the bed, his armor digging uncomfortably into his flesh.

“What happened?” Mario began his interrogation before Ezio could get his bearings. Shaking his head, Ezio began to carefully remove his armor. Claudia was already helping the doctor remove (Y/n)’s, who moaned in pain. The younger man’s eyes fixed on her at the sound.

Seeing that his nephew was not going to answer him now, Mario rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Until (Y/n) was cared for and out of danger, Mario knew Ezio wouldn’t speak to anyone about the mission. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, but it is the worst condition either of them had been in in a long time.

“Once you two are rested, meet me in my office to discuss what happened.” Mario placed a hand on Ezio’s shoulder, squeezing gently. The younger man simply nodded, not wanting to take his eyes off his wife.

Nearly an hour later, (Y/n)’s wounds were patched up and Claudia had changed her into a loose shirt and pants. Ezio’s wrist had been wrapped and put into a sling and his lip cared for. He had moved his chair to be right next to her as she slept, tucked into the bed and her favorite blanket pulled up to her nose, just the way she liked it. He wished he could curl up with her in that bed, but on doctor’s orders, she was not to be moved around too much or her ribs would not heal properly.

Ezio knew he should probably go find his uncle but speaking to anyone and leaving his wife’s side didn’t sound very appealing. So he sat in his chair, watching as her eyes flickered behind her eyelids. She must be having a bad dream. As she often does after a particularly bad mission.

He reached over and stroked her cheek with his good hand, smiling softly when she nuzzled into his hand. She would probably wake in the morning grumpy and very hungry. An angel when she was asleep but a terrifying beast upon awakening. Ezio smiled wider at the thought. She would definitely kill him had she known his thoughts.

At some point in the late evening, Claudia knocked and left some food on the table next to him, squeezing his shoulder and telling him to eat and rest. He nodded and picked at the food. The roasted duck didn’t quite smell or taste as appealing as it did when he wasn’t consumed with worry.

Many times has he tried to convince his wife to retire from Assassin duties, to stay safe and live life to the fullest while she was still young. But those conversations usually ended with him sleeping on the floor and her not speaking to him for a full evening. How dare he think that she would ever let him face the dangers they did alone.

After eating as much as he could stomach, he carefully stripped from his robes and stepped behind the partition in the room. A tub filled with water sat in the corner, filled earlier with hot water by a maid. By now the water was less than lukewarm, but he hardly felt it as he lowered himself in. She had already been cleaned by Claudia with a cloth and a basin of water.

The partition was positioned so he could still see her on the bed when he leaned back. On his own terms, he would have just climbed into bed after changing into a sleeping shirt, but since he began courting her, she always refuses him to enter her bed unless clean.

‘I don’t want my bed smelling like blood, metal, and sweat!’ She had yelled at him early on in their relationship. No matter where they were if there was a bed, she had to be clean before entering it. He figured it came from whatever futuristic upbringing she had.

He still vividly remembers that day, he had just brought the Apple to Leonardo’s workshop with his uncle and Niccolò for the artist to study. When Leonardo had reached out to touch it a bright, golden light engulfed the room and a figure fell from thin air. Ezio had rushed forward to catch the person.

She was unconscious and dressed in strange clothes. But he wouldn’t lie, this stranger was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In the next few days they had found out she came from a different world, far in the future. She had been tasked by a being called Minerva to guide Ezio on his journey.

Six years had now gone by and she had since become a master assassin and his wife. His gaze fell down to his bruised knuckles. A gold wedding band laid just above one, on his left ring finger. He didn’t normally wear it on missions but seeing as how this was supposed to be just a visit back to Monteriggioni, he had worn it proudly. It had a red smudge of blood on it. Removing it from his finger, he washed it in the waters.

Finishing up in the tub, he threw on a sleeping shirt and stepped quietly over to the bed. He was always hesitant when sleeping with her when she was injured. He was either a fitful sleeper or a cuddler. Neither one is very good for her injured state. But he knew she wouldn’t rest as well without him next to her. So being cautious, he placed a few pillows between them before fully settling in. He laid on his side, careful of his wrist, and gently stroked a knuckle across her soft cheek.

Her lips quirked up and she turned her head to nuzzle into his hand. He let a gentle smile take over his face. Even battered and weary, she still found a reason to smile. Pride swelled in his chest at being the reason for her smiles most of the time. A truly beautiful thing to behold.

“Buonanotte, amore mio.” He withdrew his hand, but let it rest on her stomach. As his eyes closed, he felt calloused fingers wrap around his.

“Buonanotte, Bello.” Her voice was raspy and quiet, but it was still the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

________________________________________________________________

A knock to the solid wood door roused him from his dreamless sleep. As predicted, he had moved a lot in his sleep. Now he laid on his back, arms sprawled out and one leg tossed over the barrier of pillows, his foot tucked under her leg. The sheets had bunched around his waist and the duvet tossed over her slumbering body. Drool was crusted to the side of his mouth and his hair was in disarray. She, of course, looked positively heavenly, despite her injuries.

Rising from the bed, Ezio straightened his appearance and moved to the door as a second knock sounded. The kind Doctor from the previous day had returned, most likely to change her bandages. Behind the elderly man was Claudia, a tray with fruits, bread, and two small bowls of soup on it.

“Ah, Dottore, Buongiorno. Come in.” Ezio stepped to the side, letting the two into the room. He excused himself to behind the partition to change into more presentable clothes. It was somewhat difficult with only one good arm, but he managed. After struggling to button his shirt up with one hand he gave up, stepping out from the partition. Claudia rolled her eyes and buttoned his shirt up for him.

“Nothing but a child.” She grumbled, poking him roughly in the chest. He chuckled, rubbing the spot.

“Careful, Claudia, I still have uses for him.” A raspy voice came from the bed. Claudia’s attention snapped over to her sister-in-law.

“(Y/N)!” The siblings rushed to the bed, leaving enough space for the doctor. “How are you feeling?” Claudia questioned. The younger woman gave a pained smile as the Doctor peeled back the bandage on one of her deeper wounds.

“Like hell, to be honest. And I’d kill for some ibuprofen…” She bit her lip and pressed her head further into the pillows when the doctor dabbed an alcohol-soaked rag into the wound. Ezio took a step closer, worry flooding his veins. He truly hated seeing her in such a state. He was beating himself up inside for not getting to her sooner.

“I can give you a poultice to take the edge away around your ribs.” The doctor began rewrapping her wounds. “I’d advise you twist or move around as little as possible for the next few weeks to give your ribs time to heal, and only wear loose clothing. Your other bandages must be changed every eight hours.”

“Grazie, Dottore.” The woman nodded in appreciation. The doctor smiled and set a small jar of the poultice on the bedside table. After giving a few instructions on the next few weeks of healing, he bid the three farewell and departed.

“I’m glad you’re already doing better, mia sorella.” Claudia sat on the edge of the bed, taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “You had me worried sick seeing you return like that.” She lightly scolded.

“Sorry, Claudia. Next time I’ll tell those bandits to not attack us. Just because you worry about me.” Y/N smiled.

“Piccola merda.” The two women laughed, only to be cut off from the grunt of pain from the junior. Ezio finally stepped forward, still silent as before. He took the jar and removed the lid, setting it on the table.

Claudia stood up out of the way of the man on a mission. His face was drawn into a concentrated frown and he refused to look at his wife’s scratched-up face. With stiff and precise movements, he pulled up her shirt to just under her breast. Her skin was a vivid purple, the bruise forming overnight. His brows furrowed deeper at the sight.

His sister excused herself, sensing that the two needed to talk. But not before directing her brother to make sure to feed his wife the soup she had brought. He merely grunted in response, dipping two fingers into the greasy concoction.

Despite his angry demeanor and calloused hands, his touch was feather-light on her skin as he spread the poultice on her ribs. Her eyes didn’t leave his face as he worked. It had been so long that either one of them had been injured like this that Ezio was having a hard time controlling his emotions.

“Bello…” Her voice was just a whisper, but it had his finger freezing over her skin. He sniffed and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands clean. “Ezio. Look at me.” Her fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him down to sit next to her. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. And the tears immediately sprung to his eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Her own vision blurred with tears and she threaded her fingers with his. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“I should have been faster… I should have made sure you were following me…I’m so sorry, mia bella.” He covered his face with his free hand, the other squeezing her fingers. His chest constricted with suppressed sobs.

“Ezio.” Her voice was soft but stern. He managed to look at her again. “This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, not even your sixth sense could have predicted this… I don’t blame you for this happening, so I don’t want you to blame yourself either.”

He sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.

“And besides, I promised to kick the ass of anyone who wronged you. So don’t make me kick your ass when I get out of this bed.” She gave him her signature lopsided grin. He let a laugh escape him despite the want to sob instead.

“Now, I’m starving, so help me sit up.”

“Sì, Signora.” Ezio helped her up and placed the tray of food in her lap. There was just enough for the two of them. They ate in silence for a few minutes, not realizing how hungry they were.

“The real tragedy here though is that I think I lost my hairpin down the side of that cliff.” She pouted as she popped a strawberry into her mouth. The dainty gold hairpin had been an anniversary gift from Ezio two years ago and she wore it every time they took a break.

Ezio chuckled. “I shall buy you all the hairpins until the void of missing that one is filled.”

“Oh, my dear, I fear your wallet will weep. As it may take all the hairpins in the world for the hole in my chest to be filled.” She feigned distress, pressing the back of her bandaged hand to her forehead.

A yawn suddenly forced its way from her, stretching her chest painfully.

“You should sleep, it will help you heal.” Ezio cleared the tray and set it next to the door. His wrist twinged. He almost forgot his own injury. Despite the pain though, he once again helped his wife lay down and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Her eyes batted slowly up at him; her lips pursed ever so slightly. He huffed a laugh and bent down to press a slow kiss to her waiting lips.

“I will be back before you wake again, mia bella.” After kissing her forehead, he made sure she closed her eyes then left the room. He had to report to his uncle about the attack. Not something he looked forward to.

________________________________________________________________

It took a little less than six weeks for her to be fully healed. Her ribs still twinged dully when she twisted wrong, but daily stretches were quickly strengthening her muscles again. Ezio had finally broken his moody attitude now that she was up and walking.

The pair had stayed in Monteriggioni while she healed but constantly corresponded with the others in the Brotherhood. But today, the two were finally returning to Venezia to continue their search for Savonarola and The Apple.

She knew Ezio was anxious to resume their search, but despite being injured, she was glad they had somewhat of a break. She knew it would be around this time that Savonarola would be making his way into Firenze to steal control from the Medici. In the next three years, they will be storming the city to take down the corrupt monk. And then they won’t have a moment to breathe.

“Tesoro, are you ready to go?” Ezio’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. She smiled up at her husband and nodded. They were already packed and had their horses ready for the long journey. She hugged Mario, Claudia, and Maria goodbye as they met them at the town's entrance. She mounted her horse, Ezio on his horse trotting up next to her.

Waving, the pair left the town. And for the next eight years, they fought tooth and nail against the Templars. They defeated Savonarola, regained the apple, took down Rodrigo, and returned to Monteriggioni. Got run out of said town and came to Rome. Together, they began the rebellion against Cesare, starting with destroying the machines he forced Leonardo to make for him.

The two had destroyed all but one, the naval cannon. Following the engineer and getting past the guards was the easy part. Burning the blueprints was also easy. But when it came to actually destroying the machine and the naval fleet, that had proved to be more difficult.

Ezio rowed the gondola while she manned the Cannon. And slowly but surely, they dispatched the large ships. They had survived a few near-hits, the small boat rocking violently, the ropes and extra ammunition sliding around on the floor.

She cheered as the last ship went down in flames, Ezio breathlessly laughing next to her. His arms were on fire from rowing.

Y/N turned the Cannon, facing down onto itself. She looked over to her husband with a grin. “Would you care to do the honors, messere?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ezio wrapped his hand around the firing mechanism, “Perdonatemi, Leonardo.” He pulled back on the lever and they both turned to dive off the side of the boat.

But as she had said once, many years ago, they could not have predicted this.

As the boat had been rocking from enemy fire, and she moved around, a rope had looped itself into the perfect snare around her foot. When she jumped from the boat, it tightened, the other end is tied off on the metal machine. She had dived perfectly, was swimming next to Ezio as the explosion went off.

And then she was yanked back.

As the Cannon sunk to the bottom of the bay the rope tightened even more around her leg. She was quickly running out of air as she tried to free herself. Her hidden blade picked the wrong time to jam, if only she cleaned it as often as she should have.

Ezio was just about to break the surface when he turned to look at her. And his blood went as cold as the water around him. Managing to take a deep breath at the surface, he dove back down, swimming as fast as he could. She was sinking fast, faster than he could keep up. He watched desperately as she finally gave up, looking up at him and giving him an apologetic smile.

“NO!” The word only came out as a bubbled scream, mixing with the last bit of air leaving her body. Her eyes slipped shut and she descended into the dark depths. Out of his vision.

Not caring about his swiftly depleting oxygen supply, Ezio continued to swim after her. His lungs burned and his arms and legs grew slower. Just when he thought he was going to pass out as well, a bright golden light illuminated the bay, he could see the outline of the Cannon as it sunk. But not her.

The ache in his chest became too much and his body moved to the surface on its own. His head broke the surface and he gasped for air. His body was filled with relief, but his mind was a typhoon of emotions. Panic, confusion, grief.

He knew that light, he had seen it fourteen years ago when she first entered this world.

And just as she had come, she disappeared just as quickly.

#ezio assassins creed #ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #assassin's creed #angst #fluff #My writing #grace-writes-shit #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore da firenze x reader

158 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

Six professional heroes are stuck under a building.

It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it’s actually just a fact.

Shoto, Ground Zero, Deku, Chargebolt, Earphone Jack, and Cellophane had been called on site to apprehend a huge group of villains. Between rescuing civilians from compromised buildings and taking out villains one at a time, they’d finally backed the last few into a corner, only to have the building collapse during the final showdown. So, they’re stuck here now, in a pocket of space underneath tons of rubble and the remnants of the building itself. The villains lay unconscious in the far corner, bound impossibly tight by Cellophane’s tape

‘I am going to bust the fuck out of here right now.’

Everyone groans at Bakugou.

‘Kacchan-‘ Midoriya tries.

‘Shut up, stupid Deku!’ Bakugou rages, fingers sparking. ‘If you’d worked faster, we never would’ve gotten stuck! Shit.’

Kaminari punches Bakugou’s arm lightly. ‘Lay off man, we all did fine. This was just unexpected’

‘Don’t touch me. And fuck you too. Fuck everything, I’m leaving-‘ Bakugou points his arms at the rubble just as Jirou plugs her earphone into his ear and gives him a shock of vibration, enough to startle him and make him yelp.

Before he can go off again, she holds up a hand, ‘I’ve already assessed the damage. The balance is precarious enough as is. If you move so much as a block, this is coming down on us, hard. And I, for one, would like to end this night with a beer in my hand, not at the hospital with a broken back.’

‘I second that.’ Sero calls out. Todoroki just nods, and Midoriya is smiling helplessly.

Bakugou curses viciously again but doesn’t bring up the topic of blasting shit up. Jirou reaches Uraraka on her phone, who says she’ll be there asap. The space fills with an easy mix of quiet murmurs and comfortable silences.

And then the cold sets in.

It’s easy to forget you’re in the dead of winter when you’re hopped up on adrenaline and right in the middle of a life-and-death situation, but when things settle down, shit gets real again. The day is below freezing, and even winter hero costumes aren’t equipped to keep you warm in the long term.

Todoroki barely feels the cold. With his temperature regulating quirk, he’s able to acclimatize to most weather conditions instantly. Over the years, its gone from being a conscious effort to a completely unconscious one, as easy and natural as breathing. His body know what temperature he’s most comfortable at, and it adjusts.

He’s leaned up against one of the broken walls, and Midoriya is propped against the surface perpendicular to him on his right. They are maybe 5 feet apart. Jirou is further down the same wall as Midoriya, and Bakugou and Kaminari are in front of Todoroki. Sero is on his left side, in front of Midoriya.

When Todoroki pays attention, he realizes his left is burning hotter than usual, in an attempt to maintain his inner temperature. It’s almost like a game to him, seeing how finely he can balance temperatures within himself, hot and cold, fire and ice.

‘To-Todoroki.’

He looks up and sees Midoriya staring at him, a small, uncertain smile on his lips, eyes bright with an idea.

‘Yes?’

‘I- um, would you- would it be alright if I sat to your left? I’m really, really cold.’ Upon closer inspection, Todoroki can see his lips turning slightly blue. Even his voice shakes from the cold.

Todoroki barely thinks about it. ‘Sure, no problem.’

Midoriya scrambles to his feet and walks over to his left before sinking down, carefully leaning his arm against Todoroki’s. He sighs immediately, slumping into the wall and gently pressing a bit more into that warmth.

‘That feels amazing,’ he mumbles, holding his other hand out and hovering it over Todoroki’s left side. ‘You practically radiate heat. It’s so useful.’

Todoroki huffs out a laugh and turns up the heat a notch, hot enough that he’s properly radiating but not so much that it will hurt the arm pressed against his. Even through the clothing, Todoroki knows that a lack of control can hurt his friend.

Midoriya’s eyes widen at the heat and he gives him a big, happy grin. ‘Thank you.’

Todoroki shakes his head. ‘Really not an issue. Barely takes any effort on my part.’ He shuts his eyes and leans his head back, intent on resting a little. The week’s been tough, filled with more villain cases than usual, and the paperwork has been endless, keeping him up much later than usual. Seems like everyone’s had difficult weeks- they’re all subdued, lacking their usual snark and energy.

When his eyes slip open a few minutes later, he finds Kaminari next to a sleeping Midoriya, with his eyes barely open. Sero has also moved, pressed against Kaminari, but Bakugou and Jirou haven’t moved yet.

Todoroki looks over at Kaminari, catches his eye and sees the slight shiver that runs up his spine.

He takes stock of their positions, does some quick calculations, and then makes up his mind with a nod.

Carefully, without jostling the still asleep Midoriya too much, Todoroki pulls his arm away and wraps it around Midoriya’s shoulder, pulling him flush into his left side, resting Midoriya’s head into his neck. The man continues to sleep, his even warm breath puffing against the skin of Todoroki’s neck. He then catches Kaminari’s eye again and flexes the fingers of his left hand before pointing to Kaminari’s neck. The blonde looks hella confused for a second but scoots closer nonetheless, and Todoroki places his warm hand against the bare skin of Kaminari’s neck, right against his nape.

The man goes limp against his grip, breathing out a groan of relief.

‘Fuck, that’s good,’ he whispers, snuggling into Midoriya to mooch the heat he’s mooching from Todoroki.

They stay like that for a few moments when Todoroki sees movement in the corner of his eyes. Jirou stands up from where she was sitting and walks towards the pile of people. She catches Todoroki’s eyes, and he sees how hesitant she is. She’s always been respectful of boundaries and space, so he can understand her feelings, if only a little. He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

‘I really don’t mind,’ he says softly. ‘It feels nice actually, to be able to use this quirk for something like this.’

Jirou holds his gaze for a moment longer before nodding. She sinks to her knees in front of Midoriya, and with a little bit of shifting and moving, Todoroki finds himself with Jirou’s head on his lap. It works because Midoriya’s sleeping with his legs folded in, and Kaminari follows suit, giving Jirou the space she needs. Sero joins her a few moments later, latching onto Todoroki’s calf, his fingers wrapped around the muscle.

Todoroki cranks up the heat a little, and everyone sighs together. Midoriya snuggles in deeper in his sleep, Kaminari moves in closer, and Jirou’s head turns to the side, cheek pressed into Todoroki’s thigh.

Tipping his head back again, Todoroki lets the weight of the bodies around him settle into his skin, and he feels a warmth build inside his chest, as unrelated to his quirk as it gets. He can hear the firm beats of his heart, just like he can feel the pulse in Kaminari’s neck. Midoriya’s hand has slid into Jirou’s hair, and Jirou’s hand has wrapped itself around Todoroki’s left side, fisting the material. They’re all tired, exhausted beyond belief, and in the midst of this incredulous situation, they find the safety to sleep.

When Todoroki’s eyes sluggishly drift open again, there’s a solid weight on his chest. He can’t look down, but he sees ash blonde hair just under his chin, and he smells Bakugou, sweet and ashy, as always. He must’ve pushed Todoroki’s right leg away and settled against his chest. He’s curled into the left side, his head above Todoroki’s heart, breathing even. The villains don’t make a peep – Midoriya and Bakugou had knocked them out cold – and the night is silent. Moonlight makes it through cracks in the rubble, forming small pools on the broken floor.

Todoroki’s heart is full.

He drops his head down to Midoriya’s, and he does exactly what his body asks him to.

In that moment, Todoroki just sleeps.

82 notes · View notes

smiting-finger · 3 years

Text

alive, and back on my usual nonsense

So after getting preoccupied with other things and temporarily falling off the face of the planet (for like an entire year ಥωಥ), I was thinking about the kdrama Mr. Queen (which I've been meaning to watch), and the Chinese novel it was based on (太子妃升职记, which I read a few years ago and very much enjoyed), and this popped out--

Wei Wuxian’s first thought is that there seem to be an awful lot of female voices around, for a bedroom inhabited by two men. Did he drink too much last night? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s overindulged on a trip to the town and woken up in a strange place the next morning, but that kind of problem has been cropping up a lot less frequently now that he has Lan Zhan around to ferry him home.

(Sometimes literally, on his back. His broad, strong--)

But perhaps Lan Zhan had gotten drunk, too? In which case, Wei Wuxian should consider them lucky to have woken up surrounded by people, rather than chickens, rabbits or, notably, on one occasion, mounds of resentful cabbages.

The chatter around him continues, pitched high with youth and - is that anxiety? It's interspersed with the odd interjection from what sounds like one (calmer, if more exasperated) older woman and a man. Probably not a nunnery, he decides. Perhaps the back rooms of a pleasure house? Although, if that’s the case, this amount of excitement over a mere two men is honestly a little excessive.

He reaches out tentatively, but pats all the way across the mattress to the edge without finding his usual bedfellow. A much less tentative venture towards the other side produces similar results.

Hm.

Wei Wuxian cracks open an eye and heaves himself upright, absent-mindedly scratching at his (unusually soft - as much as he hates to admit it, maybe Nie Huaisang has a point about drinking less and training more) side and squinting into the too-bright light until the person-shaped blur in front of him sharpens into focus.

“Niang niang!” a complete stranger cries tearfully, clutching at the sleeve of his other arm. “You’re awake! Thank Heavens, you’re awake! Physician Liu, quick, quick!”

A cushion is produced from somewhere and thrust expectantly between Wei Wuxian and the elderly man sitting at his bedside.

He sighs. It’s probably not worth fighting.

Wei Wuxian smacks his upturned wrist onto the unusually lavish brocade and is only a little surprised when it’s covered by a cloth before the physician reaches to take it.

(Do they think he’s diseased?)

((Is he diseased?!))

(((Is that why Lan Zhan isn’t here?)))

He looks at the row of young girls (+ 1 matron) kneeling along the wall to his left, dressed identically to the first and also now beginning to prostrate themselves and wail about “Niang niang!” and blessings and deserving to die.

Not a pleasure house, then.

He looks around at the rest of the richly-furnished room and its intricately-carved wooden furniture, the wealth of jade carvings and the obscene amount of gold that's gilding … everything (so shiny). The opulence of it all would put even Jin Guangshan to shame.

So, not a nunnery either.

He looks down at the small hands, delicate wrists and - he clutches one abruptly just to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him - breasts of the body that he certainly was not inhabiting yesterday.

“Well,” he says aloud, unable to stop himself from wincing at the high, soft voice that emerges despite fully expecting it. “It’s not the first time this has happened.”

===

Two days, one diagnosis of shock-induced memory loss and some discreet enquiries (as well as some indiscreet enquiries) later, this is what he knows about his situation:

He’s the main consort (unfavoured) of the crown prince of whatever place he’s landed in;

Three days ago, following a disagreement with one Consort Yun (favoured, main competitor for husband’s affections);

In the course of this disagreement, both women somehow fell into a palace lake and mostly-drowned;

Consort Yun (admittedly quite pretty) was revived at the scene, but Wei Wuxian took a full day to “miraculously” recover;

Angered by the unseemly behaviour of her daughters-in-law, particularly upon learning that the Crown Princess’s first act upon waking was to stumble upon a chance meeting between the Crown Prince and Consort Yun in one of the pleasure gardens and bodily throw herself between them (a tactical error on Wei Wuxian’s part. He’d been trying to throw himself over the battlements to freedom, but he’d gotten lost and scaled the wrong wall), the Empress (Crown Prince’s political opponent, not particularly fond of either consort) grounded both of them to their respective residences for a month, with no visitors allowed.

Which brings him to his current position, feeding the fish in his personal pond as an excuse to be alone. Not truly alone - he shoots a pointed glance at the maids watching anxiously from the other side of the courtyard - because he’s apparently a “suicide risk” now (and honestly, yes, he’d meant to throw himself off that roof, but he hadn’t meant to die - it’s simply that this new body’s cultivation level is not what he’s come to expect even from Mo Xuanyu’s modest abilities), but alone enough to start planning his next move.

Direct escape is out - he didn’t have a plan for what to do once he’d gotten out anyway, and honestly he’s better-resourced for finding out how he got here in the Palace than anywhere else, so it’s no great loss.

“What do you think, Master Fish?” Wei Wuxian asks a gold and black spotted koi with particularly sage-looking whiskers. “Shall I just stay here for the time being?”

It’s not a terrible place to be for the time being, he must admit, throwing more food into the water and watching the fish swarm. Being grounded, he’s at no risk from the Crown Prince’s amorous attentions for a month (a salute of gratitude to the Empress for the inadvertent protection). And thanks to Consort Yun and her voluptuous figure (and if the Crown Prince is more partial to that than the Zhao Feiyan style of willowy fragility that Wei Wuxian seems to have inherited, who can honestly blame him?), he’s at no great risk from them after that, either (a salute of gratitude to the unknowing sister-in-arms, taking one - and hopefully a great many more after that - for the team).

According to his maid (sleeve-clutcher extraordinaire, who even now is boring two holes into his skull with her woeful gaze from across the way while he does nothing more suspicious than scatter another handful of feed towards some latercomer fish), the body he’s inhabiting comes from a powerful military lineage. In particular, her father is (was?) a powerful general who currently commands more than half the nation’s military forces and has the absolute trust of the Emperor. So that more or less keeps him safe from the machinations of the majority of the nest of vipers in this palatial cesspit.

That just leaves the Empress, who - if his servants and the smuggled letters from the Original Goods’s mother (a salute of gratitude to the worthy woman for spelling it out so that even such an interloper as he can understand) are anything to go by - would definitely kill him to damage the Crown Prince’s political standing or throw any sort of roadblock in the way of him from becoming Emperor.

Less immediately - if his secret informants are anything to go by (a salute of gratitude to the resourceful host for cultivating such a valuable resource if not her dantian) - it also leaves the Crown Prince, who, upon cementing his power as Emperor, would also definitely kill his current Crown Princess in order to wedge his beloved Consort Yun into the Empress role.

Really, the only road to any sort of security for someone in his position is to raise the next Imperial heir, outlive the Original Goods’s faithless husband and become the Empress Dowager.

Hopefully Wei Wuxian will be long gone by then, but if leaving means the Original Goods will return (from … Mo Xuanyu’s body? The Ether? Or???) - well, he doesn’t want to repay her hospitality by leaving her house in a mess, so to speak. So he’ll try to set her on that career path, if he can.

But that’s an aspirational goal. First, he has to not-die before he can find out how to get himself home.

And find out how to get himself home.

If getting himself home is even possible.

Wei Wuxian dumps the rest of the fish food in the water and yells.

(It startles the maids, the fish and the poor eunuch the Crown Prince has sent as a spy into falling out of the tree he’s been hiding in and into the prickly bushes below.)

===

The problem with “staying for the time being” is … well, how interminably boring it is. The approved list of hobbies for an Imperial consort seems to consist of: eating (but not too much), sleeping (but not too much), embroidery (which he can’t do), reading (but only texts on female virtue and the occasional terrible novel), playing music (but not the flute), conversing with his maids (who are very sweet, but are all like, 12) and walking in the gardens (which he’s not allowed to do).

Honestly, it’s no wonder all the consorts turn to scheming and murder.

It only takes a week of confinement for him to snap and sneak himself out for a nighttime adventure, setting off to explore the grounds and see … a night-blooming flower, a ghost, a rat, he’ll take pretty much anything at this point.

In the end, he finds none of these things, but the walking is still pretty nice, and he even hears the faint sounds of a guqin wafting over from one of the other consorts’ residences. (He should probably learn who lives where at some point, but it’s not exactly a priority. What’s he going to do with the information when he can only visit during the nighttime? Peep?) When Wei Wuxian wanders closer, the notes resolve themselves into the familiar strains of Flowing Waters, and his breath catches on a sudden surge of longing to hear the same song, played by a different set of fingers.

(First played on a familiar guqin and then, later, accompanied by soft humming between soft, worn sheets, played across the edges of Wei Wuxian’s ribs, along the dip of his spine, and finally lower, into--)

((Is Lan Zhan thinking about him?))

(((Is Lan Zhan looking for him?)))

Stumbling blindly on, he’s so caught up in missing Lan Zhan that he misses the first few stanzas of the next piece, and it isn’t until the music starts to rise in a familiar refrain that he freezes.

He knows that song.

He’s one of the only two people who know that song, which is in fact how he got caught out the last time he found himself in a farce of an identity charade, by the only other person who knows that song, who must be - who must be -

Lan Zhan, his blood sings in his ears as he takes off in a dead run towards the source of the playing. Up ahead of him, small courtyard glows softly with the light of the only burning lamp in their vicinity. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan-

He scrambles up the wall with the ease of a lifetime’s practice, using bloody-minded determination to make up for the lack of muscle memory.

“Lan Zhan,” he yelps, forgetting to whisper in his excitement as he flings himself over the top and into the branches of a convenient, wall-side tree. “Lan Zhan, it’s me, I-”

This is, naturally, when his foot slips. He manages to catch hold of a branch, but his tender hands and puny wrists, unused to holding up anything heavier than a chicken leg, fail to maintain their hold through his weight, and he tumbles down the trunk into a sad puddle of fabric on the ground.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, fighting to untangle himself from the ridiculous train that, admittedly, made a considerable contribution to cushioning his fall. He clambers up onto his hands and knees--

--and looks straight into the wide-eyed stare of Consort Yun.

===

“I cannot believe,” Wei Wuxian growls, palming the ample softness of one exposed breast with one hand, while shoving the other deeper into the many (too many) layers of fabric between them and between Lan Zhan’s splayed legs, “that after everything that’s happened, you’re still taller than me.”

Lan Zhan huffs a laugh that turns quickly into a moan, and Wei Wuxian swallows it, smothers Lan Zhan’s gasping breaths with his own parted lips and sucks them greedily down even as he coaxes out more with twisting fingers here, another tug to Lan Zhan’s poor, abused nipple there.

He slides his fingers back between slick folds and then upwards again, pushing in and out in a few languid strokes before curling them to make Lan Zhan arch harder against the wall behind him, tilt his head back and expose a beautifully vulnerable stretch of neck to Wei Wuxian's teeth.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs, and his voice is different, the shape of his lips is different, but the way Wei Wuxian’s name fits inside his mouth (tender, beloved), the way he tucks the flyaway strands of hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear, the look in his eyes when their gazes meet (warm, open, knowing) are the same, same, same.

===

I am entirely too lazy to write the rest of it, but afterwards they regroup and it turns out LWJ has been in this world for exactly one more day than WWX, having woken up in Consort Yun’s body when she was “revived”. Consort Yun is the daughter of a high-ranking Minister in the Treasury or something, so Lan Zhan been using his new position as the daughter of a ~scholarly family~ to build a reputation for being really into Buddhist scripture, and eventually he’s going to request to be allowed to go to a nearby Temple to attain some virtuous brownie points for the Imperial family via prayer as his penitence.

That there’s also an elderly monk living there who’s got a reputation for being super good with the divine mysteries and spiritual lore about curses and whatnot is totally immaterial, if Lan Zhan happens to run into that guy, it’ll be a total coincidence, yeah.

So WWX also starts on the divine penitence route, and if everyone thinks it’s because the Crown Princess refuses to be outdone by Consort Yun, then even better, and two weeks into confinement they wear the Empress down into letting them make the trip, and when they get there, turns out the monk is Nie Huaisang.

(NHS: “OH THANK GOD, I’ve done the research but the lynchpin of this mess is definitely somewhere in the Palace and I could not for the life of me figure out a way to get in.”

WWX: “That's nice, but seriously, how come you got to stay a man?”

NHS: “My friend, I may be a man, but my balls are currently swinging somewhere around my ankles.”

WWX: “...show me.”

And LWJ is like “NO.” except WWX can tell by the look in his eye that he sort of wants to see, too).

So they return to the Palace and WWX whirls into one of their morning audiences with the Empress, distraught about a ~dream from the ancestors~ where they warned him about disrupted ley lines or accumulated resentment or an offended minor god that needs investigation by someone, and “How convenient, because we met just the guy!” And the Empress looks like she was Done Five Years Ago, but the Empress Dowager, who’s old and doddery, is like “oh no, you must bring him!” and the Empress mutters “to fucking what, offend some major gods and really do the job properly?” and that’s how they find out the Empress is Jiang Cheng.

In the meantime, the confinement edict expires and WWX+LWJ are allowed to return to their regular programming, which means that as the legal wife, WWX can continuously summon LWJ to his residence for increasingly tenuous and spurious reasons. The best thing is, it’s not even out of character for the Crown Princess, who used to regularly summon Consort Yun to subject her to not-so-veiled barbs and petty torments. So WWX summons LWJ, and then immediately expels both their entourages from the room, instructing that no one is to enter on pain of death.

So LWJ’s maids are gnashing their teeth helplessly while all sorts of piteous moans, pained gasps and the occasional scream emanate from behind the closed door, and when their mistress finally emerges there are no marks on her body, but she’s weak-kneed and having trouble walking straight, so who knows what kind of terrible tortures the Crown Princess has visited upon her.

The Crown Prince obviously hears about this, so he bursts in one day without warning, only to find the two sitting together, the Crown princess’s arms around Consort Yun’s waist, her cheek pillowed on one heaving bosom, and although she’s smiling besottedly at him now, he could have sworn that he felt killing intent being directed at him only a second ago? And to tell the truth, he’s not really in love Consort Yun either, it’s all an act to keep the two consorts (and their families) pitted in a power struggle against each other until he can finally outmanoeuvre the Empress and cement his position as heir to the throne (and also to protect his actual favourite, a third consort who’s a nondescript nobody with no political backing). So the fact that “It was all a misunderstanding, we’re friends now,” his Crown Princess says sweetly (and did she … rub her cheek against his Consort’s chest? Must be his imagination) is not the worst thing (at least neither of them/their families can be enlisted by the Empress in support of her son, and if they’re caught up with Being Besties, then at least they’re not bullying his actual favourite), but for some reason he still feels kind of … threatened? Like someone’s making moves on his wife, which is absurd because they’re both his wives, but the vibes he gets from the first one in particular are kind of … off?

In any case, the crew solve the mystery, find the lynchpin object (which turns out to be a jade dildo belonging to one of the Emperor’s favoured consorts because of course it is), and wake up in their real bodies, in their real world, to a very apologetic hermit-inventor-cultivator whose property they stumbled onto while pursuing a resentful beast. Turns out they triggered the glamour/enchantment/psychic maze world he created as a security system because, “I just didn’t want to risk people getting into my stuff, you know? I’ve got some things that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands”. WWX is like “oh yeah, for sure” and JC is like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SURE? HOW IS THIS AN UNDERSTANDABLE RESPONSE, IF YOU’RE AFRAID PEOPLE WILL TOUCH YOUR SHIT THEN JUST ENCHANT SOME FUCKING WARRIOR GOLEMS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.”

#CQL #The Untamed #mo dao zu shi #Wangxian #fic #not-fic

68 notes · View notes

beauvibaby · 3 years

Text

single mom – j.benn

a/n: this was a super random idea that just came to me, well really it was the grocery scene but it just clicked so

Your daughter, fast asleep on your lap, her head resting on your chest, you let the tears fall. You shifted her off of you and into her small bed, tucking her in before rushing out of the room, not wanting to wake her with your cries. You left her door cracked open, just how she had insisted she likes it, your mind racing back to the conversation you’d just had with her.

“I want daddy!” Jade shrieked at you, throwing her stuffed animal–from her father when she was first born–down onto the ground in protest. You looked at the three year old in warning, “Jade, honey, it’s time for bed.” You tried to push past the subject, you knew it was the wrong thing to do, but you had a long, exhausting day at work and you didn’t have the patience to have the conversation with her again that her father wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. He seemingly decided that she was suddenly too much for him, leaving her at your fathers house with a letter for you and then disappearing entirely. You knew, when she was born, it would only be a matter of time until he abandoned her, already blaming you for getting pregnant. “I don’t want you! I want daddy.” She snapped, not only shattering your heart, but also making you grow frustrated. “You don’t say things like that, it’s mean, you hurt my feelings.” You told her as calmly as you could muster, she huffed, but didn’t say anything as you continued pulling out her clothes for school tomorrow. “Mommy, I’m sorry.” She whispered after a moment, clinging to your legs, you nodded down at her, not trusting your voice for a moment.

You trudged to your room, finally being able to remove those constricting work clothes. An office job, which you hated, but it was the only thing that worked with the hours you needed for Jade. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

***

“How much longer mommy?” Jade complained from her spot standing on the side of the cart, “we just need your snacks and then some cereal.” You assured the fussy girl, knowing she hated going grocery shopping with you. “Do you want fruit snacks or–Jade?!” You had only turned for a few seconds, to see what they had on the shelves, but now she was gone. “Jade!” You called, eyes darting around the aisle, you yanked your purse out of the cart, abandoning it in a panic of searching for your daughter. You ran up and down the aisles, trying to figure out where she could have gone. Cereal, the cereal, you turned around and all but ran to the other side of the store, praying and hoping that somehow she had found her way there. Your prayers were answered as you rounded the corner and you saw Jade standing beside a fairly tall man, “Jade!” You gasped, running over to her, yanking her up into your arms quickly. “You can’t do that, you can’t just walk away from me like that!” You rushed, not even noticing the guy standing there holding the exact box of cereal you were going to be buying. “I’m sorry, mommy.” Jade looked at you with wide eyes, never seeing you like this, because she’s never pulled a stunt like this.

“Umm, excuse me?” The man spoke up, making you turn towards him, Jade still being in your arms, “yes?” You answered him, trying to calm your racing heart. “I believe she was looking for this.” He held out the box of cereal, shaking it lightly, Jade smiling at him with her biggest smile. “Mr Jamie got it.” She told you, looking proud of herself for having help in getting the cereal off the top shelf. You let out a soft breathy laugh, “thank you, Uh, Jamie, I guess.” You spoke lightly, “anytime…” he trailed off, not knowing your name. “Y/N.” You called over your shoulder, beginning the trek to where your cart was hopefully still left.

Once you’d gotten back to your cart, you put Jade in it this time, despite her protests, “no, you did the one thing you’re not supposed to do.” You told her, not giving into her pout, she huffed and dramatically crossed her arms, not speaking to you for the remainder of the time in the store. She only spoke when you buckled her into her car seat, before loading the groceries into the trunk. “Can you play frozen?” She asked sleepily, you nodded at her tired face, turning the car on and playing the frozen soundtrack off of your phone, her eyes shutting as she hummed along to let it go, falling asleep nearly instantly. You glanced up at the sound of someone walking past, Jamie, of course, he didn’t notice you as he walked, but that was short lived as he walked up to the truck parked next to your car. You stayed silent, only smiling when you felt him looking over at you, “it’s not really polite to stare you know.” You quipped, shutting your trunk lightly, not wanting to wake Jade. “I wasn’t staring.” He defended, smirking softly, leaning against the side of his truck, his small amount of groceries already packed away. “Mhm, thank you for the cereal by the way, I’m sorry she bothered you.” You responded genuinely, realizing you were too worked up in the store to thank him. “It wasn’t a bother, she’s adorable.” He assured you, smiling as you glanced into the car at her. “She is.” You agreed, finding yourself wishing you had more conversation to have with Jamie.

“Have a nice day, Jamie.” You bid him goodbye, shoving your cart into the designated spot, “you too, Y/N.” He responded, eyes lingering as you got into your car.

***

Jamie watched as Tyler looked at him with a shocked expression, “you met a girl?” Tyler gaped at him, the two of them talking while getting ready for the game, “no, well yes, but no.” Jamie stumbled over his words, not even entirely sure what to say. “It’s a simple question, yes or no?” Tyler smirked, halting his process to give Jamie his full attention. “Ugh, ok I was at the store, and this little girl came up to me, asking if I could get her this cereal, then her mom came running around the corner looking for her.” Jamie explained, “they were both so sweet, and her mom, she was just stunning.” Jamie added, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “Did you get her number?” Tyler asked, as if it was so simple. “No! I don’t know if she’s got a boyfriend or anything, I can’t just assume she’s a single mom.” He rushed, making up excuses, “she was younger than me for sure too.” He added, as if that would be reason enough to not have an interest in you. “Oh come on, who cares if she’s younger, if you see her again, by some miracle, you have to make a move.” Tyler insisted, and they left the conversation at that.

“Dad, are you sure she’s not too young?” You asked for the hundredth time, adjusting your daughters loose jersey, he had become your go to babysitter, and he insisted on taking you and Jade to a hockey game, saying that she would watch them on tv when she was with him. “She’s not too young, she’s going to have a blast!” He laughed at your concern, taking her from you, he had gifted you both with plain, non player jerseys for the team, your father wasn’t loaded by any means, but he had worked hard in his life, and now that your mother had passed and it was just him, he sold the house and got a small condo, using the extra money to buy himself tickets to see his favorite team. “Alright, alright, let’s go.” You gave in, following him into the arena.

The seats were better than you had thought they would be, and you couldn’t deny how it made you a little extra excited. “Go down to the glass, see if you can get her a puck.” Your dad insisted, sending Jade with you, once you reached the boards, you lifted her up to be on your hip, they were doing warm ups, some of the players not bothering with helmets, one in particular caught your eye. He’d skated by so fast, but something about him looked vaguely familiar, you couldn’t place your finger on it, but you pushed it to the back of your mind as you told Jade to wave at them, hoping one of them would be kind enough to send a puck over for her. A few of them went by without even noticing you guys, then the familiar one came to a stop, ice flying up, making Jade giggle, she shocked you by knocking on the glass, causing him to turn around. You went wide eyed, and so did he. You watched as he held up a finger in a hang on motion, Jade laughed, watching him skate quickly across the ice, doing something quickly behind the bench. He rushed back over, making sure to send some ice up again for Jade as she grinned, he pointed to her through the glass and tossed a puck up in the air, you caught it and gave it to her. Then he pointed at you, tossing another puck over, except this one had writing scribbled on it.

“Can I have your number?”

You read it with a blush, looking up to see him shifting his weight back and forth on his skates, you nodded, sending Jade to your dad who was standing in the aisle watching, she rushed over to him, excited to show him the puck. Jamie tossed a silver sharpie over to you, a grin etched onto his face, you motioned to the puck, and he nodded. You wrote the number down, sending the sharpie and then the puck back over for him, giving him a short wave as he skated back to the bench, a few of the guys nudging his shoulders. Your dad was watching skeptically, “I’ve been told that you know, Mr Jamie.” He quoted your daughter, smiling fondly when you turned pink. “We met in the grocery store.” You went on to tell him the story until the game started, all three of you getting sucked in to the sport as it went on.

Once your dad had dropped you and Jade off at your home, you were exhausted, and carrying her up the stairs to your apartment was only more tiring as the elevator was currently out of service. Jade didn’t make a peep as you laid her down in bed, a smile on her sleeping face, you kissed her forehead lightly, “sweet dreams, baby girl.” You whispered.

Your phone vibrated on your nightstand as you got ready for bed, an unknown number on the screen.

“I’m glad Jade liked the puck, you could definitely pay me back by going on a date with me.”

It was a bold move on his part, but you didn’t mind one bit. You read the message three times before coming up with your response,

“Wouldn’t I just owe you more after you pay for me?”

Your smile widened as the three dots came up right away, you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

“I have a feeling that time with you will be priceless.”

If you weren’t already daydreaming about him, you definitely would be now.

***

“Are you sure?” You asked your dad for the third time since he got here, Jade happily eating her dinner while you two talked just out of her earshot, “I’m sure, you deserve to go out and have some fun.” He assured you, “she’ll be fine, worse comes to worse, you can say you had dinner with Jamie Benn.” Your dad added, smirking at the end. You lightly whacked his shoulder, “thanks for having faith in my ability to have a good date.” You joked, earning a deep laughter from your dad. “You’ll be fine, honey, now say goodbye to Jade and get going!” He pushed you towards your daughter, smiling as she looked up at you with a messy smile. “Where did you learn to eat?” You teased her, squatting beside her, wiping her face with a napkin, “kiss.” You demanded with a laugh, grinning as she pecked your cheek. “I love you.” You told her, getting a muffled one in response as she continued munching away on her food. “Promise you’ll call me for anything.” You pleaded with your dad as he pushed you out the door, “yes, I promise, have fun.” He shut the door before you could continue, giving you no option but to head out for your date, your nerves growing with every minute closer you got.

“Y/N!” You heard from across the parking lot, your head snapping up as you slid your purse onto your shoulder, “hey, Jamie.” You called as he approached, a smile etched onto his face. “You look great.” He grinned, looking over the dress you’d chosen, a casual dress, nearly maxi length with a light floral print. A Jean jacket over top. “Thank you.” You closed your car door as you spoke, “you look great too.” You complimented him, smiling as he offered his hand as you stepped up the curb. He shot you a toothy smile in response, opening the door to the restaurant, a cliche first date, but the effort he put in was very much appreciated. You couldn’t say in full honesty that you’d ever been taken on such a proper date, Jade’s father had really been your first true relationship, and it wasn’t the best at times. Or ever, really. “Two please.” Jamie spoke to the hostess, you had zoned out slightly, taking in the slightly eclectic look of the restaurant. Jamie pulled your seat out for you, only making you blush more. “Thank you.” You whispered as he took his seat across from you, “of course.” He smiled, picking his menu up, peering over it at you as you both browsed silently. You shifted a little nervously as you looked at some of the prices, Jamie glanced up at you, unsure if he should ask if you were alright. “So, what’s good here?” You asked, breaking the silence, he let out a laugh, setting the menu down. “Can I be honest?” He raised an eyebrow at you, your head falling into a cautious nod, “I’ve never been here before, some of the guys said I should take you here.” He looked a bit pink in his cheeks, you bit your lip to stifle back a laugh, “you know, Jamie, I’m perfectly fine with more of the typical burger and fries type of place.” You giggled, watching his smile falter, before it widened again, “let’s go.” He abruptly stood up, his chair making a noise in the quiet restaurant. He rushed you out the door, laughing the entire time as you looked at him in shock.

“We could’ve eaten here, I wasn’t trying to be–“ “Y/N, just live a little, I’d much rather go get a burger than whatever was on that menu.” He cut you off with a grin, “well,” you paused, fishing your keys out of your purse, “I do know a great little hole in the wall place a few blocks away.” You grinned at him, watching as he matched your look. “Shall we?” “We shall.”

“Thank you, Jamie, I had a great time.” You smiled up at him as you stood between your cars, he reciprocated the gesture, “so did I.” He mumbled, “we should do it again sometime.” He added, watching as you nodded slowly, easing his nerves significantly, “I’d like that, a lot.” You trailed off, meeting his eyes, you could tell that he saw the concern on your face. You hadn’t done this yet, since Jade, and now you weren’t sure how it would work. How long did you date before you introduced him as something other than just Jamie? What if you never made it that far? What– “Can I kiss you?” Jamie interrupted, chuckling when your jaw dropped for a moment, not expecting him to be so abrupt. You barely finished whispering a yes before his lips were on yours, his hands on either side of your face, you melted into them, your hands resting on his sides as you kissed him back. He let out a sigh of content as you pulled away, “yeah, we’re definitely going to have to do this again.” You mumbled, laughing along with him as he was caught off guard by your comment.

***

That was three months ago, somehow the two of you had been making it work in the middle of his busiest time of year, Christmas had just passed, and it was finally time to introduce him to Jade, properly, as your boyfriend, not just as the guy you’d met in the grocery store. “Where are we going?” Jade asked, holding your hand tightly as you walked with her through the tunnels that you quickly learned to maneuver, Jamie having you come to a couple of games so far, and insisting you come down afterwards. “You’ll see.” You assured her with a giggle, she bounced happily beside you, eyes going wide as she saw Jamie leaning against the wall, she’d seen him a couple of times, but totally oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

“Jamie!” She shrieked, releasing your hand and running over to him, he easily squatted in front of her, smiling as she gave him a little hug. “Hey, Jade.” He murmured, glancing up at you as she began rambling about her day. “I like your shirt.” He told her when she finished, and she looked down to the stars jersey you’d slipped her in to, the same plain one your dad had gotten her, you on the other hand, had on your Benn jersey. Something Jamie had insisted on the second you two decided this was a serious committed relationship. “It’s just like the one you wear!” She told him, as if he didn’t already know. “Wow, that’s crazy.” He gasped, looking at it closely, as if it was new information, she laughed girlishly at him. “Jade?” You questioned, kneeling beside Jamie, suddenly terrified that your three year old would shame your relationship. “Jamie and I are dating, so you know what that means?” You asked her, Jamie glancing between the two of you. Jade tilted her head to the side, “that means you love him.” She answered, as if that was the correct answer, you smiled at your daughter, glancing over to Jamie, you hadn’t said it to him yet, but you were certain that you were in love with him. He stayed silent, but the grin on his face told you everything you needed. “Does that mean we’ll live together? Like you and daddy used too?” Jade gasped, suddenly excited at the idea. This time you were the one who stared and Jamie spoke, easing any nerves you had, “hopefully one day.” He assured her.

Jade was watching a quick video on your phone while you spoke to Jamie before the game, “I think that went well.” He shrugged, not really as concerned as you had been. “It did.” You sighed, hugging him quickly, knowing he had to get going, “Jamie.” You got his attention, cupping his jaw and leaning up to kiss him. “I love you.” You whispered, slowly stepping away from him, “I love you.” He grinned, “gonna play great now that I know that.” He shot you a wink, before going on to score two goals that night, one of them being the game winner.

Taglist: @vinceduhn @makarsy @kempe @literarycharleton @josty @mrs-ana-wayne @kiedhara

#Jamie benn #imagine #imagines #Jamie benn fic #Jamie benn imagine #Jamie benn blurb #Dallas stars

173 notes · View notes

imaginesga1ore · 3 years

Text

Loves Harsh Reality

Summary: Life is a bitch.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader (all platonic)

Warnings: swearing, mention of past/current abuse

Prompt: “You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger.”

Word Count: 1780

Do not copy, translate, or post any of my stories anywhere you write stories, whether that’s here, Wattpad, or Ao3.

-----------------------------

Life never treated you well. Not even when you were just an innocent child, trying to navigate your way in this terrible world. You were forced into a cold and unloving organization that was run by people who don’t really give a shit that you were only 2 when they stole you. They never treated you like a human, more like a laboratory experiment, which kind of went haywire. When you were brought in, the sleaze running this entire operation stripped you of everything you had so far, which was only a name you had just barely begun to learn, and they assigned you a number, much like a court case; experiment 973. And that’s what you went by for the next 23 years of your life.

The day you were rescued from that deranged and psychotic place was...hectic to say the least. It began like any other day while you were their little pet; get woken up at the ass crack of you don’t know when, test out your powers until you physically passed out and then get ungracefully woken again only to be forced to use your powers. This continues for hours on end before these assholes make you go fight actual people in hopes that you aren’t lacking in physical strength. You fight until bodies start piling up and when your sadistic handlers are satisfied with your progress, as if you haven’t they haven’t been training you to take down monsters bigger than Goliath himself. But something wasn’t right and you could feel it in the enclosed space of your cell.

While you normally had a rough awakening by someone poking, prodding, and eventually yanking you out of bed, nobody was there. In fact, there wasn’t even a peep from the cells neighboring yours. That was until you heard multiple gunshots and multiple bodies slumping against the floor. See, the thing about HYDRA is that they’ve trained you for this exact moment but every single ounce of training they’ve ingrained in your body and mind left the building completely as you hunkered down against the wall furthest from the thick, metal door barricading you from the outside world.

Suddenly, the door you were just measly standing behind came crashing down, dust from the unwashed floor rising. After the dust settled, you looked up to see the poster boy of HYDRA himself, the Winter Soldier. “Steve, I’ve got a live one here. Female, looks to be in her mid-20s,” he whispered into his ear piece. He slowly moved closer, putting his weapon away as he noticed your frail body shaking from fear. “У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью?*” Shaking your head, the soldier stopped in front of you, kneeling next to you. “Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя?” Shrugging your shoulders, you made an attempt to look over at him. “That’s ok. How long have you been here?”

“двадцать три года*,” you said, a bit of hesitation in your voice, finding it hard to speak after decades of being punished if you spoke out of turn. As you finished speaking, you heard another voice, one which you assumed belonged to this Steve person.

“Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда,” Bucky said, standing back up on his feet. But you weren’t too sure about this. Along with your training, your handlers had pushed on you the notion that the Avengers, and anyone associated with them, were out to harm you, always, and that’s why you needed to be able to defend yourself.

“Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня,” you asked, clear hesitation towards the soldier who was about to grant you freedom from this hellhole.

Bucky looked at you with sympathy drawn over his features. Shaking his head, he gently grabbed your hands, a shiver traveling up your spine at the coolness from the vibranium arm. “Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда.”

-TIME SKIP-

It had been a few months since the Avengers had rescued you from HYDRA and you were beyond grateful that Bucky had stumbled upon you that day. But the fear that HYDRA had instilled in you about being near the Avengers was still running rampant in your system. Whenever someone knocked on your door, or came up behind you, your fight or flight instincts kicked in like that of an animal in the wild. You thought it’d be better by now, considering you have been going to therapy since coming to the compound. But today, all your frustrations came to a head.

You probably should’ve been in bed considering it was 4 in the morning but you needed to burn off some steam. What you failed to realize was that a certain super soldier was sitting in one of the boxes above the training center, watching your every move. But, him being a super soldier meant that he could pick up on more than you realized. Bucky had noticed that blood dripping onto the floor, which came from your terribly wrapped hands.

He knew you were on edge, but not like you were when he first got you out. By the time that you realized Bucky was in your presence, it was a bit too late. You felt a hand on your shoulder; two seconds later you had the body attached to the arm on the floor, your other arm extending towards their throat, keeping them pinned to the floor.

Once the haze cleared, you could tell who it was that you had down on the ground. “Buck? Oh my god.” Quickly pushing yourself off of him, you started pacing the gym floor. “Fucking shit. I am so sorry Bucky. I-I didn’t mean to do it. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You kept rambling and pacing until Bucky stopped you, stepping in front of you to stop you from wearing a hole in the floor.

“I am fine, кукла. Are you ok? Your hands are bleeding.” Looking down, you saw the streaks of red coming out from under the tape on your hands. “Let’s go get you fixed up, ok?” Nodding, you followed Bucky out of the gym and towards the medical center. “So, what’s got you going at 4 in the morning anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried. I even tried that tea Wanda suggested. By the way, don’t drink it. It tastes like dirt.” Bucky chuckled as you sat on a gurney, grabbing supplies from the cabinets. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we wait for, you know, a doctor, or an actual medical professional to come in and do this,” you immediately questioned him.

“Do you seriously doubt my suturing skills? I did serve in World War II, so I’m pretty confident that I know my way around a needle and thread,” he said, carefully unraveling the useless tape from around your knuckles, taking a look at the damage. “Yeah, this’ll probably take a little bit, but don’t you worry, Dr. Barnes is always here to help.” Bucky smiled at you, calming your nerves the tiniest bit.

After prepping and numbing you properly, Bucky began stitching your open wounds shut. “So, do you wanna talk about why you couldn’t fall asleep? Talking might help, at least it usually does for me,” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off his work in progress.

“I, uh, I keep having nightmares. They went away for a bit, when I could actually sleep for the night, but for some reason, they’ve come back,” you admitted quietly, almost like it was a dirty little secret.

“Well, you’ve only been here a few months so I wouldn’t expect your nightmares to just instantly go away. It took me a few years to actually get a good night's sleep with them waking me or anybody else up. So I know exactly how you feel,” he said, finishing up before wrapping your hands in sterile dressings. “And you are all set. Now, no excessive force, which includes going to the gym at 4 in the morning and working out like you are about to fight the Hulk.” You laughed lightly, shoulders loosening up.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you just stitched up my hands cause I got too into my own brain after I almost choked you when you could’ve just dropped me here and gone back to bed.” Tears filled your eyes once more, a thickening feeling surrounding your concerns.

Bucky sighed, gingerly sitting next to you on the gurney. “When I found you at the base, I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy ride for you. Or for anyone here really. Adding another member to the team can sometimes jostle things around. And I knew for a fact that you would feel like an outcast amongst some of the biggest heroes the world has ever seen...so far,” he said as you laid your head against his arm, wiping away the tears that had made their way down your face. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, if we became friends or even just acquaintances, that you wouldn’t feel so alone here. Cause I know exactly how that feels. And ever since coming here, I can see what I looked like when I was found; lost, felt like I didn’t deserve anything good or even deserving of love. But even though you hide it with a sort of tough exterior and you’re used to being trapped away, I can tell you something about yourself that you probably don’t even know,” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Oh yeah? What would that be,” you asked, quite curious as to what he may have found out.

“You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger. Cause that’s exactly how I feel right now.” At some point, of which you weren’t sure, Bucky had hooked his fingers under your chin, turning your face up to meet his. Your eyes finally met his, capturing the look of a pure and innocent love in his icy stare. He slowly leaned down, but stopping right before your lips collided. “Is this ok?” Quickly nodding, Bucky pressed his lips to your own, cupping your face as your injured hands made their way to his sides.

Pulling back, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. “Never thought that this is how we would have our first kiss, doll,” he said, making you laugh which in turn caused him to chuckle. “But, I’m not at all opposed to it.”

“I’m glad. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired.”

-----------------------------

1. У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью - Are you ok? I didn’t hit you with the door, did I?

2. Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя? - My name is Bucky. What’s yours?

3. Это хорошо. Как давно ты здесь? - That’s ok. How long have you been here?

4. двадцать три года - 23 years.

5. Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда. - Ok. Steve gave me the go ahead so we can get out of here.

6. Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня? - You aren’t going to hurt me right? O-or kill me?

7. Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда. - Of course not. I’m going to get you out of here.

8. Кукла - Doll

If you see this on another blog, @multifandomwhre , that is my first blog where I submitted it to @sweeterthanthis “Quote Me” challenge.

#bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #imaginesmcu #marvel

25 notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 5

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: had to make this one short because the next one is hella long

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Phew, all right,” you wheezed through fast pants as you finally reached the computer room, hand numb and aching from the dripping ice pack in your palm, “you need to explain to me what’s happening. Because- man, I’m out of shape.” You placed your hands on your hips and bent slightly for a moment, taking a huge gulp of air before marching over to Ned and giving him the pack, “I’m confused as fuck, Ned.”

One of his hands continued its work while the other reached out to grab the pack. His fingers continued to type away with speed you’d never seen before as he spoke, eyes never leaving the screen, "Okay, long story short, the day you were at the bodega-” you flinched, “-was the same day that bank was robbed using high tech weapons. Those weapons were part human and part alien, and were being created by a dude who has wings on his back. Peter found out that that guy is Liz’s dad, and now Peter’s going after him to stop him from selling even more weapons.”

He hissed as he placed the ice on his eye. You blinked, nodding once as you felt entranced by the layered codes on Ned’s screen. It was weird how you understood it and read them like they were normal words and letters. You mentally thanked your summer coding camp for the extra knowledge. "I..feel like there’s a lot more to the story than that but yeah, okay, I got it.”

A buzzing from your purse interrupted your entrancement. You shook your head and opened your purse, pulling out your vibrating phone.

Incoming call from..Flash.

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, taking a seat across from Ned and starting up your own computer, "Now’s really not a good time, E.”

"It’s not Flash, it’s Peter!” Peter practically screamed, making you wince from his panic-stricken voice and loud background noise that was filled with New York’s most obnoxious honks.

"Wha- did you steal Flash’s phone?” You asked incredulously, putting him on speaker while you typed away, hearing the same swift clicking coming from Ned’s side.

“No! I asked him for it!” He paused for a moment, “And his car!”

“What?!”

“You stole Flash’s car?” Ned asked, jaw-dropping and eye-widening in amazement, “Cool!”

“Yeah, it’s awesome, it’s awesome!”

"Peter! You’ve never driven before! How can you be driving?!” You scolded, suddenly feeling a twist in your gut at the thought of an accident due to his lack of experience in driving. Peter was never one to make impulsive decisions as dangerous as this. You guessed he changed over the months that passed.

"I know, this is a really big step for me and- ahhhhh! Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” Your hands froze in their place as you awaited a crash with a thundering heart, but it never came, which made you sigh in relief. The engine’s sound increased in volume as the car accelerated, but Peter’s voice was still louder, "I can’t see anything in this car!"

"Which car did you..borrow?” You asked, fingers returning back to work. You figured if you could help him, he’d get out of the vehicle at a much faster rate, and all you wanted to do was keep him safe and unharmed.

"How many does he own?” Peter asked in awe, honking the horn multiple times and screaming a couple of‘ move’s!

"Not important right now! What’s the logo of the car?"

"The four Olympic circle thingies."

"An Audi.” You said under your breath. Thank God, you thought, a car I'm familiar with, “Do you know how to turn the headlights on?

"No!"

"There’s a knob on the left of the steering wheel. Turn it clockwise.”

Peter repeated your instructions, and released a small laugh of victory, ”How’s Ned doing with Happy?”

“Uh,” You peeked over your screen, noticing beads of sweat form on Ned's forehead, even with the cool ice helping his eye, “Ned?”

"Getting to him..” He said, not paying you any attention.

"Have you found my phone yet?” Peter asked.

"Working on it, sit tight,” you replied, finally seeing a moving blue dot pop up on your screen, "He’s on Jackson Avenue and 48th Street."

“Perfect! And Happy?”

You once again awaited Ned’s answer, and worried when a distressed look flashed upon his face, “He hung up on me.” He frowned, "I’ll try again.”

You looked back down at your screen and realized that the blue dot had suddenly stopped moving. You squinted, “Hey, he stopped at 10th street and 43rd avenue in Brooklyn.”

"What? That makes no sense!"

"Welcome to my world,” you mumbled, hearing a small chuckle come from Ned before he focused on talking to Happy again.

“He said he was going out of town!” Peter explained, obviously having heard you, but it did nothing to diffuse your confusion. Why would Liz’s dad stop in Brooklyn when he said he was leaving?

"Weird..” You commented, rubbing your eyebrow as you started to feel the pressure. Jesus Christ, is this what Peter goes through?

“Dammit,” Ned muttered, catching your attention, "Happy sounded like he was catching a flight,” he said, “he mentioned something about taking off in nine minutes."

"What?” You and Peter simultaneously said, and you fought the butterflies that made their way to your stomach. Now’s not the time.

"He was surrounded by a bunch of boxes,” Ned clarified.

“Boxes?” Peter wondered out loud, and you were sure you could see his face as he put two and two together, "It’s moving day! It’s moving day, it’s moving day, he’s gonna rob that plane, I gotta stop him! Shit, I don’t know how to get the directions on this car.”

You jumped at the chance to help again, pleased that Peter finally had a destination to get to, "I’ve got his location, I’ll lead you.” You pulled up Flash’s location from the Find My Friends app, eyes jumping back and forth between your phone and the computer’s screen as you voiced the directions to Peter.

Peter’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, causing too much skidding, and you had to try your best to hold your tongue as to not to be a backseat driver. You wondered if you were in the position to berate Peter for impulsively stealing Flash’s possessions and driving recklessly. You found it amusing that the crime fighting Spider-Man had committed two crimes as of tonight.

"Slow down, there’s a right turn up ahead. You’re gonna take it.” You directed, just as Peter’s dot passed his exit, "Parker! Turn right, turn right!”

Peter screamed as the engine roared and the car skidded so loud you were barely able to hear his web shoot out. Your eyes widened in fear as you heard metal grinding against the concrete before coming to a halt with a harsh thump. Peter’s hasty breathing seemed match yours.

"Are you okay?!” You and Ned asked, your voice cracking and brain melting.

"I’m okay.” He breathed, making you drop your head in relief, shoulders easing up, "Just keep trying to get through to Happy.”

"It’s been an honor, Spider-Man.” Ned saluted, and you gave him a look of disapproval.

But then you both turned your heads at the piercing sound of high heels clicking in the hallways that were getting louder as the person headed in your direction. Ned’s face became as white as a sheet, surely matching yours.

'What do we do?' He mouthed, eyes rapidly bouncing back and forth between the door and you.

You bit your lip and glanced at the door before sighing and getting on your feet, “I’ll distract her,” You whispered, removing all traces from the computer, “keep calling Happy.”

Ned nodded in affirmation as you straightened out your dress and took a deep breath, cautiously opening the computer room’s door and stepping outside. Ms.Warren was peeping into the science lab across the computer room, and you took this as your chance to make it look like you were just making your way in.

She turned around and jumped, “Jesus!” She placed a hand on her chest, “What are you doing-“

She stepped closer and squinted at your figure in the dark, “Y/n,” she seethed.

She said your name with poison dancing on her tongue, causing a deep frown to settle between her eyebrows as she popped her hip and crossed her arms, "What are you doing here? There’s a dance, and you know it’s prohibited to be in this area.”

“I know, Ms.Warren,” you surpassed the urge to literally bite this woman’s head off and pretended to be vulnerable for a moment. You looked down at your feet, trying to conjure up an excuse that was easy to believe - Ms.Warren wasn’t exactly gullible, and wasn’t fond of you, either. Your reputation for causing trouble in her class cost you her trust, but you frankly couldn’t give a fuck. Plus, it was fun to mess around with her, what’s one more time?

“I just..” Your mind went blank as her eyes searched yours, a small glint of mischief shining in them. Oh, you bet she fantasized about the day she’d get you expelled from Midtown, but you weren’t ever going to let her see that day. So, you did what you always did when you got into trouble.

Play the absent parents' card.

“I just..I just w-wanted to call my dad. It’s quiet in here.” You said, faking your wobbly voice. No teacher liked it when they had to deal with crying students, especially those who hid the fact that they had no role models around them, like yourself. A look of confusion flashed in her eyes.

You were getting somewhere.

“It’s just..h-he’s been gone for so long, Ms. Warren, and I never see him. He called me tonight, and he never has before.” You fiddled with the ends of your hair, “What if he tells me he’s here? Here to see me? While I’m partying down t-there?” You sniffed for extra effect, somehow feeling your eyes swell with tears.

Weird.

You took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling to make it look like you were trying to hold yourself from falling apart, “I-I just wanted to call him,” you repeated, thickening your voice even more, “maybe he’ll apologize for never being there for me, especially after m-mom left us when I was ten.” You were almost impressed with yourself as you felt hot tears run down your face, traced with the mascara you applied before coming here.

In Ms.Warren’s shadow, you could tell her eyebrows were furrowed, and she was looking anywhere but you, clearly trying to choose between two options.

“I’ve never had a parent in my life.” You pushed, "No one taught me how to ride a bike, or swim, a-and I feel so left out because all the other kids have parents and I don’t!”

You grabbed onto her arms, looking her dead in the eye, “Please, please, just let me piece my life back together. Let me call him.”

For a moment, you swore you saw her demeanor soften. Just a moment where you felt like she understood you, not pitied you. But, just as quick as it came, it disappeared when she cleared her throat and looked around.

“Okay, okay.” She sighed, "But make it quick,” she stepped back from your grasp, ready to bolt, but you took the chance to make her slightly more uneasy.

What?

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, of course you were going to take it.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” You sprung into her, arms folding around her tightly as she stiffened, clearly feeling uncomfortable about the affection you were displaying. You breathed in through your nose, hard, and nearly laughed when you felt her hands on your shoulders, trying to peel you off of her with a face of disgust.

“Don’t mention it, s-sweetie.” She said, discreetly rubbing her hands on her dress, "You better go now before your dad gets busy again.”

“You're right, you’re right."

And for your final act, you pretended to sniff and wipe your nose with your arm, catching Ms. Warrner’s eye twitch. She was known for being a massive germaphobe, which really only came in handy during her class - until now.

She cleared her throat once again, turned around, and marched down the hallway, practically running away from you until she was gone. You placed a hand over your mouth, muffling your giggles as you entered the computer room once again, slowly closing the door behind you.

“She’s gone?” Ned swiveled in his chair to face you, cracking a smile when you happily nodded and wiped at your face.

“How about you? What’d Happy say?” You walked over to him, running your eyes over the lengthy call history, which was mainly filled with declined calls from your side.

“Um,” Ned rubbed his arm in shame, “he cursed. A lot. And he..he blocked me,”

Your face dropped, hearing Ned sigh and imitating him.

“What do we do now?” Ned asked, desperate as ever.

You waited for a moment, feeling a lightbulb go off in your head as you rushed to the other side and opened your phone.

“Give me his number,” You said, dialing the number Ned voiced to you and putting him on speaker. You crossed your fingers and waited for him to pick up, each ring only causing you more anxiety.

“Yeah?” Happy said, sounding quite annoyed.

“Well, damn, you don’t sound like a Happy to me. You sound like a grumpy.” You rolled your eyes, immediately regretting what you said.

“Not this shit again,” He said angrily, and you were pretty sure he was going to hang up, making you panic all over again.

“Someone’s going to steal Mr. Stark’s shit!” You blurted, wincing when you heard nothing from the other line for a moment. You were going to check if he hung up on you when you heard a, “what?”

“T-the plane!” You exclaimed, "The plane with all of Tony’s stuff! There’s a guy who’s going to steal it and Parker’s going to stop him!”

“You know what? How about you tell Parker that he has some delusional, weird fr-“ His voice suddenly faded out, “Holy shit.” He breathed.

“What? What happened?”

"The plane just crashed.”

Your heart dropped to the feet as the color drained from your face, feeling the blood rushing through your ears and fear spiking in your chest. Somehow, somehow, you knew Peter was where the crash was, and you feared the worst possible outcome. You didn’t even hang up as you rounded the table, picked up your keys, and ran out the door.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

tags: @peachescream06

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

67 notes · View notes

coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 years

Text

A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!

Hi folks!

It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.

(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)

Post starts under the cut!

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli

What have I been up to?

For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y’all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:

What have I been up to (writing edition)?

2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.

Feeding Habits

I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:

1. This chapter is structurally very strange.

I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.

2. The chapter is very abstract

This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!

3. There’s not much left to cover

Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.

Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!

Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:

(TW: death, gore)

Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.

(TW: death, gore)

Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.

Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.

Let’s move on!

Mandy and Cora

I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:

Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.

I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!

But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.

I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!

This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!

Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!

Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:

Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.

Short Fiction

I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:

January:

I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).

This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!

I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!

The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!

(TW: trauma)

Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.

I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!

A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!

The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.

The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.

I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.

February

I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.

I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.

March

In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.

I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.

April

(TW: sexual content, non explicit)

I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.

My short story collection

Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.

I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:

(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.

This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.

This is the summary so far:

In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.

This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!

I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!

--Rachel

#writing #writeblr #writerblr #amwriting #writingupdates

56 notes · View notes

jostepherjoestar · 3 years

Text

Patience is a virtue (Risotto fic 4k)

NOTsfw!! // afab reader // neutral pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, s3xual stuff, very vanilla though, slowburn-ish, fluffy and sweet Risotto wants to treat you and indulge you

The only sound in the room was the soft clacking noise of the plastic pen cap Risotto kept twisting and untwisting from its holster. Another long night spent in his office, the workload still not finished. He really ought to learn to ask for help he thought to himself. As the word “help” entered his mind, you came up. Always eager to help, never complaining about the amount of work or even the pain you had to endure during missions. Your adorable smile entering his thoughts, the small one you gave him to silently assure him you were alright.

Just like many late nights spent working, sitting alone in his old leather desk chair, for once not hunched over his papers but tentatively leaning back while soft creaks came from the chair with every movement. He could always ask you to help him sort out the leftover pile, maybe it would be a good excuse to spend some time alone together, cooped up in his office and quietly talking about nothing or anything together. The stoic man’s feelings gnawed at him, sure that it was a mistake to feel his pull towards you grow stronger every day. Why did you entangle his every thought? Was it the way you dressed? No. Well of course you looked lovely in your usual outfit, revealing your stylish side tremendously but still that wasn’t your biggest asset. Was it the way your natural looks seemed to require little to no effort, offering maximum payoff? Even though he could spent an eternity staring at your soft skin, those glittering eyes filled with passion and kindness, even during battle he knew that fervour helped you along. You were so lovely on the outside but it was truly the way you treated others that enamoured him so. Being surrounded by his team was nice and pleasant, many moments of laughter were shared between the men but still there was this unconditional kindness and understanding you offered so selflessly, expecting nothing in return. The way you manoeuvred the many offhand comments of your teammates, trying to poke and see how much you could take. But you never gave in, always ready with a witty retort or a quick change of subject, not letting the comments bother you. The strength you possessed, it almost seemed like you conquered pain itself. At least that’s what it looked like to your capo when he reflected on your behaviour, just like he’s doing tonight. You’d get beaten and bruised on missions but never so much as let out a peep, the pain seeming to be more of an inconvenience than a feeling. Many times you’d offer your help to a hurt teammate while you yourself were barely able to go on, but still you persevered. The silver haired man even caught you not as much as flinching when you were making breakfast one day, hot oil splatters that would make anyone yelp didn’t even phase you. Merrily continuing cooking and shaking the pan.

But as he kept on thinking it occurred to him that he’s never seen you do something completely selfish. Even as much as watch the movie you wanted, always opting to let other pick instead. As much as you mastered strength and kept your cool in stressful situations, did you master pleasure? Didn’t you ever indulge in your own selfish requests? Of course he can’t know what goes on behind your closed bedroom door but he wondered so often what you enjoyed to indulge in. Did you read? Was there a collection of cd’s filling your bookcase? Never the one to invade other’s privacy by snooping, he could only wonder until you invited him in. Through the crack of your door he never saw much, only ever coming by to ask if you’d come and join the meeting they were having, you always offered great advice. But through the little bit your door opened he smelled your heavenly perfume, like the room was just as much a part of you as you were of it. He never thought of himself as a coward, he’d made it a point to get what he wanted through the simplest means necessary but the hesitation to ask you to spend time together baffled him. Had he gone soft on himself? Maybe it was just the way you made him feel, and in all honestly he only hoped you returned even just a slither of what he felt for you. Enough was enough, he thought to himself, even though it’s late he knows not much sleeping was being done in the shared headquarters. As he got up, the chair creaked after being released of the mans weight, soft steps on thick black socks made their way to the door. He’d at least put on a some more comfortable clothes working these long nights. Opting for a black sweater that hid his toned figure but fitted sweatpants that still held his shapely muscled legs. He rarely even though about if he looked appealing, he likes his usual look and outfit but he doesn’t particularly wear it to impress anyone. But right now he hoped he exuded a welcome aura, relaxed and inviting. That’s what he needed it to be at least.

Without too much more overthinking he brought himself to your door, knocking a familiar pattern to alert you of his presence. After some scuffling on the other side the door slid open a little, your head popping out to see the expected figure. Risotto stood in place for a moment, silent and not moving. Seeing you so cutely, awaiting his words with that small smile on your lips. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you sleeping but if you have some time, would you mind helping me finish up for the night? It won’t take too long if it’s the two of us.” He asked politely, moving his hand to lean it on the doorframe. “Oh of course I don’t mind Risotto, I’d love to. Is it ok if I meet you in just a second though? I have to finish something…” You trailed off with a soft twinkle in your eye that made your capo’s heart beat faster. After assuring you it was fine and he’d go fetch you some tea to enjoy, you scuffled back over to your computer quickly shutting off the game you’d been playing, the fans stopping to whirr letting silence take over the room. You felt a bit excited to be able to work with your capo, rarely getting some alone time with the large figure. As you stared into the mirror placed on your wall you assessed yourself for a quick moment, adjusting your shirt and comfortable pants to look more tidy, fixing some loose strands of hair back into place. You grabbed the matching zip up hoody, remembering how chilly Risotto’s office was the few times you entered. You felt yourself in need to hurry, not wanted him to think you were dragging this out longer than need be.

It had been an hour already since you started working at the paper stack on the oaken desk of your superior. It had dwindled down quite a lot, only one or two documents left to finish. During the process you’d chatted lightly with the dark eyed fellow, not really sure what you could even talk about. He seemed a bit broody since you entered, his earlier mood had seemed to fade. Although you wondered if it was your fault, but upon some self reflection you’d figured it was just the need to work so late into the night quite often that brought your capo down a bit. “Ah, we’re finally done. Good work Risotto.” You praised him as you let out a little squeak as you stretched your limbs. Unbeknownst to you the flattery went to straight to his heart. He’d never been one to strive off of commendations but when they came from you he felt so light and like the work he did was actually worth it. He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts about what to chat about he ended up being more quiet than he’d hoped to be. Sure that he was quite the bore to be around. “Thank you for your help, I’m glad I can always count on you.” His voice getting warmer as he met your eyes, looking up at your standing figure. He couldn’t help but notice your matching little track suit, the shirt poking out under the hem of the jacket. But he couldn’t linger long, he needed to think how he could make you stay longer, your presence offering a peaceful feeling he rarely experienced without you near. “I… I have a question for you.” After accepting his thank you, silently waving it away you were surprised by his question. You’ve never heard him hesitate, was he nervous? He didn’t look it. “Sure, shoot!” you smiled back, curious to know his answer. “Would you want to show me your room? I’ve seen all of the others’ and unfortunately they weren’t that exciting,” he huffed out a small chuckle before he continued. “of course if I’m not intruding.” He was so polite and careful with his words, his thoughtfulness making your chest tighten. “Of course! Sorry if it’s a bit messy though, cleaning isn’t my favourite activity.” You returned cheerily, already opening the door to the hallway to commence the tour. How exiting! Even though it was well over midnight you felt energised by his request.

You quietly stood in the middle of your small room, hands twisting into each other after having straightened some things as you both walked in, awaiting a reaction from your tour-mate. “So, was it as good as you expected? Does the colour palette please your eyes?” You joked to ease the tension that seemed to radiate Risotto. He looked around thoroughly, his eyes scanning the environment, making sure to take in whatever was visible. “It’s surprisingly cute. Not that you’re not. Or-“ he commented, the words seeming to spill out of him. You couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of words assuring him you understood what he meant. God, why were you so kind. Even after that little hiccup you still retained your composure while he was trying not to break apart. Reminding himself of who he was he straightened his back, not being too far away from the ceiling of the small room. He had noted the books on your shelves and the stickers on the blocky computer, the fluffy slippers under your bed and the picture of a cute cat wishing you a good day. It really was a cute room that showed off who you were, completely engulfed in your soft perfume. “So what do you do for fun?” Risotto felt like he had to say something, the silence lasting too long as you allowed him to let his eyes wander around the room. “Oh! Let me show you! I just got this new game, I was actually playing it before you came by.” You excitedly hopped over to your desk as you turned the pc on again, the familiar starting sounds popping up. “See, you build your character and then you live your life, you can get a job, get married and have hobbies. I know it’s a bit silly but it’s nice to enjoy the little things. Sometimes in our line of work they get lost.” As you sat on your desk chair Risotto loomed behind you, bending over to see what was going on. You felt the warmth on his body hoover over your frame, it felt so nice to be close to someone. But you scolded yourself for relinquishing in his body heat, but the ache of not having been near another held on stronger. Before you could give it more thought you felt a heavy hand lean on the back of the chair and another move to your desk, caging you into him on one side. It surprised you but as usual you kept your composure, trying your very hardest not to lean back too much, as Risotto would catch your figure if you did. “Why’s that cat named Ghiaccio?” An obvious hint of amusement in his gravely voice. You let out a little snort, the sound going straight to the looming man’s heart again. “Well, he’s white and a bit grumpy, he reminded me of White Albums so only felt right to name him Ghiaccio.” You explained as you saw the small dimple in Risotto’s face as you came to face him. You felt so small sitting on you desk chair, his figure caging you in like a bird. But it felt safe, no threat to be near, like he wasn’t doing it for his pleasure but yours. As your eyes lingered on his features, he finally looked down from above to meet your stare. Those dark and moody ones feeling like they’d swallow you whole, but if you were honest with yourself, you’d let them. His movements were slow but deliberate, making his way down closer to you. Only a few centimetres apart, his breath leaving warm invisible clouds around you as he breathed out calmly. He felt intrigued to see your reactions to his movements, but you didn’t seem flustered just yet, maybe a little taken aback by his move but still so curious to find out when you’d let yourself go and unravel. “What else do you like to do?” He hummed against you as he slowly blinked, waiting to see what would happen, analysing your eyes for an answer. You didn’t really know how to reply, like all words had lost meaning and they would no longer serve their purpose once they got spoken. The intensity of his gaze and the way you longed to be held again, to be cherished by another, just for a little while to make you feel appreciated again.

Risotto was pleasantly surprised when you moved to close the distance, stretching out to meet him those couple of breaths away. Carefully placing your lips on his, they felt like soft pillows welcoming him in comfort. Just like you worked your missions, you continued with fervour, bravely keeping the kiss going. Risotto entering your mouth with his tongue, taking the lead and moving further. As you waltzed with each other, moving in tandem but one was in charge you stood up from your swivelling chair, pushing it aside with your foot as you clasped an arm as far as you could over your capo’s neck. Soft wet sounds from lapping at each other were barely audible as you moved against him, his arms now holding you firmly into him as his craned neck was kept down by the kiss. Somehow you had to come up for air, not even close to wanting to surface this lake of pleasure. But alas you both had to, cursing his lungs for needing air, he let go of the kiss but still remaining close by your puffy lips. Oh how he wished he could stay enclosed in them forever. “When was the last time you had someone else be kind to you?” He breathed in between words, letting you regain your breath as well. “I’m not sure I know.” You replied honestly, breathing starting to even out, it wasn’t something you paid much mind to, the feeling of being near the ones you cared for was enough for you. “Let me treat you tonight, if you’ll have me?” His warm baritone awakening tingles in your body you had almost forgotten about. It had been so long since you even took care of yourself, touched the places that were so sensitive and sweet. Too busy with work and life to even engage in your own pleasure. His hand had moved its way up to your neck, gently holding up your head as you stared back at him, you knew the answer was yes of course, but felt again like they had no use. “Yes, please…” You sighed out as he caressed your jawline with his thumb. Still Risotto was intrigued that you’d finally given in and allowed the return of all the love and care you so easily gave away. There you were, still not letting yourself get truly lost just yet.

Having moved to your bed, letting him gently take off the layers you’d been wearing one by one, being left with nothing but your adorable underwear and bra that hugged you breasts and curves so nicely. You let the silver haired man take in your figure while you were lying under him, his gaze soft and appreciative, like he’d finally been able to see what he got for Christmas. Before he could continue his plans that are still unbeknownst to you, you gripped at the hem of his sweater. Offering the display of his toned torso, you’d seen it on a daily basis but never appreciated the sight more than now. Raking a soft finger across the natural lines like you were completing a maze, maybe one that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in. But your indulgence was cut short, Risotto continuing on his mission to treat you. He placed soft kisses on your skin, leaving a tingling trail behind as he started from your forehead working his way down in gentle kisses and touches. His hands roaming your waist, softly massaging the plush skin. You were enjoying this, stopping soft moans from leaving those soft lips, not ready to let go of them yet. Your hands roamed Risotto’s back and arms, caressing and exploring the muscled shapes while he continued on your neck and chest. As his lips and touches reach your mounds he admires them, offering soft swipes with his thumbs on your sensitive nubs, rousing them from their softness. Through the soft fabric of your delicate bra you felt the meaning behind his ministrations, telling you to relax into them, let yourself get engulfed and not care about the consequences. “You are absolutely beautiful.” He whispered as he placed multiple kisses on your shoulders moving down the straps of the bra, undoing the clasps with a couple of swift motions when his hand moved behind your back. You were relishing in his warmth, soaking it all up, if only he knew how long you’d ached for this tender love. His mouth had taken in one of your nipples, soft little tugs and swirls of his tongue while the other got attention from his hand. Still you weren’t ready to let go of your moans, just that one smidge of pleasure more, maybe afraid to let the others in the house know you were enjoying yourself. The thought only springing more excitement in your lower tummy. You pinched Risotto’s upper arm after a particularly cheeky bite on your breast, making him hum a chuckle against your sensitive skin, springing goosebumps to life. “When are you going to let go, mhh? Be selfish for once, indulge.” The words rolled of off his tongue with ease like a warm knife cutting through butter. “When your treat gets to the next step perhaps?” You said with a hint of playfulness and that cute reassuring smile he loved. It was his sign to continue his path downwards. A single finger hooked on the hem of your delicate panties adorned with flower appliqués. Slowly he started pushing them down, almost a teasingly slow pace, but every movement felt like fireworks on your skin until finally your panties were slid off and thrown on the ground. The wet spot not going unnoticed to your capo who’d grown a hungry grin, showing off his dimple.

He’d moved down between your legs now, arms hooked over your thighs to keep you in position and perhaps the pressure of being kept down only added to your excitement. You could feel his breaths on your inner thighs as he snaked over them with his mouth, sending a shudder through your system as his delicateness tickled you. He knew what he was doing, trying to only push you further and further to the edge. He wanted to hear your sweet moans and breathless whispers of pleasure. And he’s determined to make that happen. He was glad to see your tender folds already glisten in the low light, you looked so inviting to him. He wasn’t planning on wasting any more time, he wanted to please you so badly. Perhaps a bit surprised at his feelings to be so kind and giving.

A wet kiss was placed on the mound of your heat, he continued down following your natural curve. His hands were close enough, spreading you open so he could look even closer at the warm place he’d put all his attention into for as long as needed. His wide tongue moved flat over your lips, grazing your clit sending electric quivers up your body. Your hand was grabbing onto his silver locks, taking a handful and gripping it hard as he began. It only motivated him to continue as he heard you sharply breath out, you were finally starting to unravel. His tongue worked his way around, rhythmically sucking and moving around your most sensitive spots. Occasionally he’d move his tongue to your aching pit to drink you in, telling you how good you tasted. Your hips couldn’t stay still, bucking upwards at his motions, his arms still holding your hips and thighs in place where he wanted them. “Please…” you panted, “please just fill me.” The words came out without even thinking, followed by a moan that had been aching to release. Risotto’s grin grew bigger, glad you finally accepted the pleasure fully. He moved his right arm away from your thigh, the pressure releasing from your skin. Wetting his fingers with your essence he slid one inside of you while working away at your sensitive clit with his mouth. You felt your walls tighten around him, welcoming the added sensation with another moan, even louder than the first one. As you slowly felt the pressure build you felt ravaged by the feelings, only wanting more and faster. “More, please god more Risotto!” You panted loudly now, fully giving in as Risotto had only hoped. He moved faster, curling his fingers as he added another finger inside, reaching that far spot inside of you that only further proved how skilled he was at making you reach your summit. As the tension inside you built more and more, your pants and moans only grew louder, not even caring if your housemates knew what was happening. The faster he moved his fingers in and out of you, the more lewd noises filled the silent room, the squelching of your juices and the lapping of his tongue and how he so skilfully sucked on your clit. Not much more movement was needed and you felt your pleasure finally erupt into orgasm. Tingles spread all over you, your walls convulsing around his fingers, heat spreading through your limbs as Risottos slowly let your ride out your orgasm as he drunk in your juices, happy to have pleased you.

As you regained your breath and felt your muscles relax, still relishing in the afterglow, Risotto moved away from your heat. He admired his work, wiping away at his chin and mouth that had been covered in your essence. “You know what you just did?” You asked while your bare chest was still moving up and down heavier than usual. “Well I ate you out…” he answered with a confused look, a smirk still visible. “Well yeah but you did something kind capo.” He could feel his heart swell at your choice of words. “But don’t you want me to take care of that?” You pointed at his crotch, his obvious excitement showing through the sweatpants. “No. Not tonight, my next gift will come tomorrow. You just rest up.” He answered as he rubbed your legs. “Making me wait huh?” You teased as you got back close to him, embracing his muscled torso with your bare one. “Patience is a virtue my dear.” He jokes back letting you take him in for another kiss. He was already looking forward to tomorrow, feeling that his generosity would last a lifetime with you around.

#notsfw #risotto x reader #jjba x reader #jjba fic #jjba imagines #jjba x y/n #risotto nero x reader #la squadra x reader #afab reader #minors dni

168 notes · View notes

redsbrainrot · 3 years

Text

Gruvia Week Day 6 - Agony

warning: mentions of blood

_ _ _

"Juvia, what're you doing up again?"

03:30 in the morning, Gray caught his wife of six months pondering around the kitchen, dressed in his shirt and nothing underneath it, other than silky underwear and knee-high, odd, socks covering her porcelain legs. Her hair had been in the same messy ponytail for the past two days; bumpy and greasy. She hadn't showered in almost a week.

She glances up at her Gray-sama, the portrayal on her face remains bleak as she blankly shrugs, "Can't sleep."

"Again?"

It'd been five days. Five days since the agonising, tragic loss she never even dreamed of having the trauma of going through. Awakening one day to buckets of rain dripping down the window, stomach cramps the same pain rate as being stabbed by a steak knife, and later that day her sheets are stained with blood dripping between her legs, followed by screams so harsh she'd lost her voice.

Juvia shakes her head at Gray's questioning, breaking the simple eye contact and continuing to circle around the central counter.

Gray forces her aimless pondering to stop as he takes her hand. Her eyes dart from the light grip on her hand to his eyes, hers narrowing in annoyance.

Gray couldn't bare it. Juvia never looked at him with such hatred. She can't control the way she's feeling right now, and he's aware that anything she may spit at him won't be from her heart. It's not her, he had to remind himself. She's suffered a loss, and he has too. Her end is only much, much more painful, as she was the one who had to experience losing her unborn child.

The two hadn't been married for long, and after Juvia discovers she's pregnant only five months into their marriage, she was delighted with excitement anyway. They never discussed exactly when kids could go on the table, yet the surprise out of nowhere was bliss.

Juvia would go day and night protesting she needed solitude, and begged him to take a job request. On the verge of accepting, he changed his mind in an instant and stayed for her. Gray couldn't control his thoughts and his worst fear was that Juvia may do something stupid to hurt herself.

She snatches her hand out of his grip, turning away and continuing to dawdle, "Juvia, can you come back to bed?" She shakes her head, "Please?" Another objection as Gray follows her circular path.

"Can you take a shower then? I think it'll do you good."

Her head shakes roughly this time, and Gray manages to catch a brief sound of sniffling, her feet remaining fixed on the floor.

"Bath?" Gray suggests, keeping his distance in case she slaps away his touch once more, "It'll make you sleepy."

With a release of an exhausted sigh, she agrees. "Fine." Juvia's never so blunt in her words.

"I'll run it," He leaps in front of her before she can enter their bedroom, "Lie down for a minute, okay?"

Juvia obliges, carefully placing herself on the edge of the mattress, not lying down, instead slouched in her seat, her fingers fiddling and pulling with the ends of her socks. Anything for a distraction.

Gray was still in surprise of how the girl hadn't yet fainted. She'd lacked in both sleep, and eating. Truthfully, he can't remember the last time he saw something enter her system. She hadn't dropped by the guild since before the incident, refused to allow people inside the apartment, including Gajeel, and had stop using the terms "Gray-sama", when referring to her beloved husband. Gray may have found it irritating way back in the day, but now it's just not the same. He can't stand watching her suffer. What struck him down most is that he may have been trying his best to make life easier for her, however nothing was helping.

The only other person aware of their current situation was Erza. She advised Gray he just needed to give her time, she'll come around eventually. Her biggest concern was Gray's wellbeing. He's gone through hell, and this time instead of moping around, complaining about life and frankly wishing he wasn't around anymore, he wasn't letting himself cry it out. He desperately wanted Juvia to at least smile. Her smile is what keeps him going. Without it, what's the point?

Honestly, all Gray needed right now was to weep his depressive thoughts into someone's chest. Only this time, he can't to Juvia. She's already killing herself with guilt.

Juvia dismally thanks Gray for running her bath as she enters the bathroom, her shirt already undone and the shoulders draping down her arms. Gray choses to leave her in peace, about to open the door and wait eyes open in their bed for her. Until Juvia latches her hand onto his, tugging him back inside. "Can you stay in here with me?"

Juvia swirls her hand around the decently heated water, while the other is in Gray's hand as he is sat on the floor next to the tub. Her hold was weak, but at least the two were touching each other, even if it was only a hand hold.

Neither of them spoke. Sitting in silence with each other was enough for now.

"I'm really sorry." Juvia startles Gray as her voice cracks, breaking the silence.

"For what?"

"The past few days," Her hand swirling ends, looking up with her watering eyes into Gray's, "I've been really cold to you. I'm not making this any easier."

"Nothing about this is easy, Juvia," If anything, Gray's wishes were the opposite of her sincere, unneeded and unwanted apologies, "You don't have to apologise. You don't need to," He lifts his hand from hers, brushing it down her dampened hair, caressing her cherubic cheeks, "It's only your way of coping. I know you don't mean anything you say."

Juvia appreciates nothing more than her darling's kind words. Even though no smile was emitted, he knew she took his words to heart as her hand placed on top of his, turning her face slightly and planting her lips on the corner of his palm.

Unfortunately, his light touches and sweet words weren't enough for her to keep back a gush of tears. Her gloomful teardrops splatter into his hand, whimpers and sniffles following.

_ _ _

Juvia pleaded Gray to leave her in peace in the lukewarm bathtub after her flood of tears had escaped. Gray was unsure of what to say. All she needed from him was brief contact, and of course an immediate change of heart occurred as her drops of sadness had faded.

Gray left behind another one of his shirts and some clean underwear for Juvia. He refused to acknowledge his exhaustion and remained awake while patiently awaiting Juvia's return to their bedroom.

Almost 04:30, Gray peeps up at the door as it creaks open. Juvia tiresomely walks through, the drips in her wet hair seeping through her braids, and the buttons on her shirt done up in the wrong order. It didn't bother her, though. She probably didn't even notice.

Gray opens up the covers for her side, the eye contact absent as she crawls in beside him, switching off the lamp as she does so.

Juvia lays on her side, facing Gray yet not exchanging any form of contact with him. Gray desperately wanted to pull her close to him, cuddle in their sleep and once again be comfortable with one another. She craved the space, though.

"Juvia," He breathes, trailing his hand towards hers, implying a moment of contact, which thankfully she agrees to, "I hate seeing you beat yourself up."

Silence.

"Tomorrow will you at least go outside? Even if it's only a small walk."

Her grip in his hand loosens, thinking it over. "I don't know..."

After picturing the absolute elation portrayed on her face, spectating her suffering was agonising for him.

At first, she was panicky, anxious and frightened of what Gray would think of her pregnancy. On the outside, she remained mature and adult-like, keeping the situation and her emotions under control.

"Gray-sama?" Juvia starts as she's sat on the bathroom counter, Gray opposite and leant on the wall with his arms folded, "What if it really is positive? What will we do?"

Juvia had been concerned whether she was pregnant or not for about four days. She first noticed her period was late, but that had happened before. Her cycle was up and down, so the notice in change wasn't a first sign of pregnancy.

"What do you want?" Gray wasn't sure at this point.

Gray was the one who proposed taking a pregnancy test just to make sure, as much as Juvia objected that she couldn't possibly be.

"Well, would Gray-sama mind if Juvia is pregnant? Would it bother you?"

Gray's response is quick with a head shake, "To be honest, no." Juvia peers up with her teeth nibbling her lip, "My main concern if you, Juvia. If you don't want to have a baby right now, that's your choice. This isn't really mine to make." Gray's tone had always been bland and he's a closed book, making their moment difficult for Juvia.

"I want your opinion, Gray-sama."

He tilts his head for a moment, what did he really think about this?

"I..." Gray questioned his possible skills as a father, already wondering whether he made a good husband before hand, "We've been married for almost six months, and these months have been the best of my life. I like having fun with you, when it's just the two of us. I know you want kids at some point, and so do I. So... if you wanna have a baby now, I'd be happy with it."

Juvia profoundly smiles at his honesty. She'd enjoyed her relationship with Gray-sama before they were even in one. She's loved him for years, and being pregnant with his baby would make her happier than ever. Even if it's sooner than she thought it'd happen.

She realises the timer had ended, and takes the test behind her, hovering her thumb over the result before taking a look. Gray steps closer, grabbing her hand while staring down at the test. Trembling, she slips her thumb aside to see two red lines, indicating a positive test.

"Juvia, I'm back." Gray announces himself as he enters their apartment.

As he closes the door, he quickly takes note how it's suddenly began to pour rain from outside. The windows are drowning in the water, and only a moment ago the sun was out. He hadn't seen rain like this in god knows how long.

"Juvia?" He calls again, after no response.

After searching the kitchen and living room, he heads to their bedroom. He opens the door to notice ruffled sheets, and towards the edge of the bed, a puddle of red was sinking into the mattress.

Gray catches the sounds of whimpers coming from the bathroom. Struck with confusion, he storms inside and witnesses his wife on the dark towel covering the tiled floor, dressed in one of his shirts. For support, her arms depended on the edge of the bathtub, while her face dug into her arm, soaking with tears.

Gray drops to the floor, gently shaking her arm in attempt to get words out of her. She refuses, shaking her head over and over again as her whimpers become cries of distraught. Finally, Gray notices a gush of blood between her legs.

#gruvia week #gruvia week 2021 #fairy tail #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #writing #gruvia angst

89 notes · View notes

crossroadsfossil · 3 years

Text

106 degrees

Summary:

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

This is important when you get caught in an autumn rainstorm with a villian you don’t really trust.

Also known as 5 times Hawks falls asleep on Dabi

Prompt: For something fluffier, how about Hawks can't stop falling asleep on Dabi because of how hot he runs. Dabi constantly has an arm full of bird and has no clue what to do

Bonus if they still didn’t trust each other the first time it happened

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31366130

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees Fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

It’s something he and Rumi discuss often, if only because Rumi liked to snuggle up to him and comments on it constantly. She has no room to talk since she also runs at a higher temperature. Granted, it’s not much higher than your usual human baseline. She runs about a hundred or a hundred and one, depending on the season.

Needless to say, Hawks is a very popular patrol partner in the winter. Add in his feathers (which are amazing insulation, despite not being meant for it) and the large fluffy jacket he’s never without, and it’s not surprising that he’s almost never alone in the cooler weather, even if most of his companions can’t keep up with him once he gets going.

Neither his feathers nor his jacket are doing him any good right now, as soaked through as they are. His day had gone from bad (a long day topped off with a meeting Dabi ‘forgot’ to tell him about) to worse (an incoming cold front) to absolutely terrible (a storm that was preceding the cold front, resulting in rain, sleet, snow, or all three since this was Japan after all).

As soon as the sky opened up, Hawks insisted they take shelter. He’d herded Dabi towards the closest abandoned warehouse. He ignored the expression Dabi sported as he broke in. He didn’t care what the villain thought or how entertained he was by the action. He was a practical man and it was abandoned. Besides, if he didn’t get out of the wind and rain, he was at serious risk of going into torpor. The gear he was wearing today wasn’t meant for repelling water and it was about as much use as an icepack in winter.

There were a list of things he didn’t want to happen around Dabi, and going into torpor was fairly high up on that list, alongside bullet points such as ‘getting drunk’, ‘getting high’ and ‘running into another hero’. The best Hawks could expect from Dabi was for the villain to light his feathers on fire. At worst, he figured Dabi wouldn’t be the only burnt nugget around after he was finished with Hawks.

“Hey birdie, I’m not opposed to a show but take me out for dinner first.” Dabi said, watching as Hawks shrugged out of his coat and feathers in one fluid movement, catching his jacket before it fell off completely. He let his feathers fall to the ground with a disgusting splat. Laundering those would be less of a hassle than laundering his jacket. He draped his jacket over a nearby box in the vain hope that it might dry a little. It probably wouldn’t, but who knows. Maybe if he annoys Dabi enough, the fire-quirk user might raise the temperature in the warehouse by a few degrees.

“Ha. Ha. Not everyone has a fire quirk, asshole.” Hawks replied, giving what remained of his wings a shake to get as much of the water out. A quick look around the warehouse revealed it wasn’t as secure as he had thought, with great gaping holes in several of the walls. He shivered as the wind blew through them and started looking for anywhere that would provide a barrier between himself and the wind. He watched enviously for a moment as Dabi rolled his shoulders and began steaming slightly, burning the moisture out of his clothes and coat.

He spotted a pile of boxes, with several piled up on three sides to make a small nook and started to walk towards it.

“So, what do you have for me?” He asked, sitting down and scooting until he hit the back ‘wall’ of boxes.

Dabi shrugged. “Nothing. Just wanted to see if you’d come.” He replied.

Hawks stared at him, not quite believing what he just heard. Dabi’s growing grin cemented the fact that he had not, in fact, misheard.

“You’re an asshole. You seriously just called me out here on a whim? I’ve got better things to do, Dabi.”

“What, rescue people? In this weather? I think not.” Dabi said, slinking towards Hawks. Instead of taking a seat on the box directly in front of him, Dabi decided that the best place to sit was practically in Hawks’ lap. He shoved the hero over and leaned against one of the boxes that made up a makeshift wall and smiled at Hawks, daring him to do anything about it.

“Dick. So what now? Are you going to suggest we play Shiritori or I-Spy to pass the time? Since you invited me out for a playdate, we might as well.”

“That is not what I did.”

“You did it on a whim. It sounds like either a playdate or you miiiiiiiiiissed meeee.” Hawks said in a sing-song tone, delighting in the way it made Dabi’s face scrunch up in irritation.

“We could play ‘how many burnt feathers does it take to get to the crispy chicken center’.” Dabi held up a palm, a blue flame flickering to life in the center of it. Hawks looked between the flame and Dabi’s face and, very pointedly, brought his hands up to warm them.

“Thanks. My fingers were getting cold.”

Dabi huffed and closed his fist, snuffing the fire out.

--------------------------

When the bird actually showed up in the storm, Dabi wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He certainly wasn’t expecting the hero to stick around, let alone break into a building. Especially not the way he had. In the split second between Hawks looking at the door and breaking in, he’d assumed the hero would use a feather to lock-pick it. It seemed like something the hero would do- sufficiently flashy enough and sounded like the sort of party trick the pigeon would learn. Instead, Hawks had pulled out one of his larger feathers, slid it into the bend of the padlock and twisted it, using the feather like a lever and cracking the lock off with brute strength.

He wouldn’t say it intrigued him, but it was damn close. There were still things about the bird he didn’t know and he was still half-convinced the hero was a spy, but shit like that definitely made him question that assumption.

The hero also annoyed the ever-loving hell out of him. More than Toga or Twice did, so he was hoping the bird would slip up and he’d have an excuse to roast the number two hero.

The storm outside had rolled in completely, throwing the warehouse into almost complete darkness. He and Hawks had stopped sniping at each other almost half an hour ago, the warehouse filled with the sound of screaming winds and hammering rain. He was pretty sure this was a new record for Hawks. If he gave a shit, he’d say something about being impressed. He didn’t give a shit and he was more interested in figuring out what the fuck was making that weird noise. It kept disturbing the quiet of the warehouse; it was almost a peeping squeak, like a chain swinging in the wind, but far more organic.

He lit up one of his palms, peering out into the darkness to see if he could spot the noise. All it did was make the shadows worse and throw the hero into an eerie light. The hero was sitting with his eyes closed, and as Dabi watched, about every third exhale the bird would shiver slightly and let out that peeping noise.

Was that… Hawks’ version of a snore?

Pretty ballsy of the hero to fall asleep next to him. Ballsy and stupid as hell. Slowly, he brought his hand closer to the bird, intent on setting at least one wing on fire.

Gold eyes blinked open, unfocused. Dabi froze, waiting for the bird to react.

Hawks did, but not in a way Dabi had been expecting.

“Fucking hell-” Dabi spat as Hawks leaned against him.

The bird was freezing.

It was like getting hit by a wet washcloth that had been sitting in a freezer, and within moments he could feel the water seeping through his clothes. The bird was freezing and soaking wet.

Then the bird shivered again, almost cuddling into Dabi’s arms. Hawks’ eyes had closed again and it left Dabi with an armful of bird and no good idea how to handle this or how to feel about it.

Logically, Hawks was probably seeking out the warmth, and hell, maybe he was like Spinner. Spinner hated the cold and was about as tolerant of it as Dabi was of the heat. Guess that might explain the sleepy-thing. Spinner mentioned something about torpor once. Dabi hadn’t been listening because Spinner was goddamn annoying.

He brought his legs up, shifting Hawks so that he was sitting sideways and half on Dabi’s lap. One of his hands came up and, against his better judgement, settled on the remaining plumage Hawks had left on his wings. They looked comically small like this, and he had been wondering about how they felt.

Right now, they felt wet and cold.

He tsked and slowly heated his hand up, combing his hand through the feathers.

Slowly, they went from feeling like wet paper to delightfully smooth and soft.

---------------------------

Normally, Hawks enjoyed waking up. He had a nice bed and decadent sheets. He usually woke with the sun, and despite having an early shift, that still usually left him with an hour he could spend just basking in the delight of a nice bed. If he left the shades open, he could do so in a puddle of sunlight.

His bed didn’t feel right this morning. Too lumpy and for a moment he tried to recall if he had brought anyone home the night before. There was a hand combing through his hair, so there was a very distinct possibility that he had left the warehouse the night before and-

His eyes flew open at the thought.

He didn’t remember leaving the warehouse and-

“Chill your tits, bird brain. Just me.” Dabi said, giving a light tug on a lock of Hawks’ hair. He ignored the pleasant way it sent shivers down his spine.

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah. That was my thought too. Lemme guess- you go into torpor?” Dabi asked.

“Do I even need to answer that right now?” Hawks’ shoulders slumped and he groaned.

Fantastic. He did exactly the thing he hadn’t wanted to do. Dabi let out a soft huff, almost a laugh but not quite. Hawks leaned back, feeling an arm against his back and keeping him from going too far. Dabi didn’t look peeved, and that raised his hackles. His eye narrowed as he tried to figure out what happened.

“What?”

“You did something.” Hawks stated, running through a checklist in his mind. He didn’t feel any burns. Nothing smelled like ash. The only real change from before he went into torpor was his hair and wings were fully dry and his clothes felt, well, not dry but not sopping wet anymore.

Oh.

OH.

Dabi noticed the grin on Hawks’ face, and started spluttering. “You were just-”

“You preened meeee.” Hawks sang, laughing at the affronted expression on Dabi’s face.

“I did not. You were dripping everywhere.”

“Uh-huh. And that included drying my wings… why?”

“....Because they were there. So shoot me if I wanted to know if you had greasy bird feathers.”

“Nope. That the same reason you decided to sweetly comb through my hair? I mean, really Dabi. If you wanted to play with my hair and wings that much, you could have at least gotten me dinner first.” Hawks teased, stifling a laugh as Dabi’s expression went from affronted to a grouchy embarrassment, before then actually lifting Hawks up and dumping him on the ground.

One- Damn. Hawks’ wasn’t heavy but he was mostly muscle so. Damn.

Two- He was just laughing harder now. To think that Dabi got shy about being caught playing with hair. He got to his feet, trying to brush the dust from his pants before giving it up as a lost cause.

“Well Hotstuff, thanks for the preen and playing heating pad. Guess we did get to know each other a little better tonight.”

Dabi flipped him off, sliding off the crates and making his way towards the door they came in through.

“Dabi?” Hawks called out. To his surprise, Dabi stopped, turning to look at him, dubiously waiting for the rest of his question. “For the next meeting, can I play with your hair?”

A moment later he was scrambling away from the fireball Dabi sent his way, despite knowing that it wasn’t a true attack and Dabi was only trying to get him to stop talking and hide his frazzled expression. Hawks watched Dabi make a beeline out the door, wheezing on his laughter as he gathered up his jacket and feathers.

Teasing Dabi was going to be so much fun.

#bnha fic #dabihawks #dabihawks fic #my fic

34 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER ONE: It begins.

it’s... cold.

why is it cold?

the first thing you hear is the sound of someone calling for you, but his voice is shaky and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears

“y/n… please… please wake up…”

your eyelids feel heavy and you can’t seem to open your eyes no matter how hard you try

fingers prod at your back and you instinctively go to flick them away but you can’t seem to move

“please wake up… please wake up…”

what the hell is going on?

when you finally manage to peel your eyes open, you find yourself staring directly at a pair of tattered old sneakers that you recognise to be jungkook’s

you know they belong to him because the seams on the right shoe started to split last week and he’s been too lazy to order another pair for himself

okay

well

if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that you don’t know where you are

“don’t leave me alone… i can’t do this without you…”

all you know is that your body is aching and your ears are ringing and your head is pounding and you feel like you’ve just woken up from a one hundred year long nap

long story short

you are noT feeling very well

a pained groan slips past your lips as you slowly push yourself up off the ground before reaching up to press your palm flat against your forehead

jesus christ

your brain feels like it’s about to melt out of your ears

“what’s going on?” you croak, “where are we?”

you clear your throat before reaching up to wrap your fingers around it

it kind of feels like you swallowed sandpaper and then gargled saltwater right afterwards

you reach up to rub at your tender cheek seeing as it was squished down against this rough wooden floor for god knows how long

“what... what’s... what’s going on?” you ask dumbly before looking around the room

you’re not sure what time it is but it’s obviously nighttime because you can barely see anything

you look over to see soft moonlight peeping in through the cracks in the wooden planks that are nailed against the windows

the only source of viable light is jungkook’s flashlight and even that’s starting to die on him a little bit

“don’t be so loud-” jungkook hisses as he glances towards the closed door warily, “i-i’m not sure. i woke up ten minutes ago. do you remember anything at all?”

“i wish i could say i did.” you mutter before looking over at the door as well, “where’s everyone else?”

“no idea.”

“huh.”

it’s weird

you really can’t recall anything that happened prior to this moment

you dO know for a fact that the eight of you were together at some point… but now it’s just you and jungkook

“well… okay, lemme just-” you slowly get up onto your feet before stretching your limbs out

your joints pop and crack back into place as you twist and turn and shake the numbness away

okay yeah

you’re definitely have to go for some kind of a massage as soon as you find a way to get the hell out of whatever crackhouse this is

“i’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.” you wrap your arms tight around yourself before shivering

it’s a little drafty in here

“oh, really? there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why we woke up in what seems to be an abandoned old house?” jungkook hisses as he gets up off the ground as well, “i can’t remember anything. something isn’t right here!”

“at least we’re still alive...?” you mutter, checking your hands and arms to see if there are any scratches and bruises

nothing

which is a good sign, right?

“how are you being so calm about all of this, y/n?” jungkook frowns

you reach down to dust off the front of your jeans before shrugging, “someone has to be, because if we’re both panicky, we’re probably never going to get out of this place.”

“wha-”

“did you find any other tools besides that flashlight?” you ignore jungkook’s panic-infused comments as you make your way over to the large set of drawers at the other end of the bedroom

“no, because i’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes. the flashlight was near me when i woke up.”

“maybe there are some batteries in here somewhere…” you yank the creaky drawer with a grunt

you’re met with disappointment when you see that all that’s in here is a folded piece of paper

“what does it say?” you jolt in surprise when jungkook suddenly speaks up directly behind you and you give him a gentle nudge with your elbow before picking the note up

don’t let the light die

“don’t let the light die…?” you frown lightly before peering over at the flashlight in jungkook’s hand

really??

you’re not supposed to let the light die and all you get to help you with that is a dusty old flashlight?

that’s the equivalent of bringing a water gun to a sword fight

“what do you think that means?” jungkook whispers and you shrug in response

“i don’t know. this seems like some kind of an elaborate prank or something. and whoever wrote this has the handwriting of a three year old toddler, so i wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you tuck the paper into your back pocket for safe-keeping before pushing past jungkook to explore the rest of the room, “how long do you think we have until your flashlight dies?”

“not sure…” jungkook shakes it before tapping it against his palm, “maybe, like, twenty minutes at best?”

“okay, well- oh, wait!” you spin around before letting out a scoff, “we’re so dumb - we can just use our phones-”

you pat your pockets down and-

…

where’s your phone?

you curse quietly when you don’t feel the familiar rectangular shape anywhere

whoever put you here took your phone too???

harsh

your snapchat streaks are all probably gone by now

you and jungkook had a 1385 day streak!

okay

you know what

it’s fine

you’ll just email snapchat later and beg them to restore the streak it’ll be fiNE

in the meantime, you should probably focus on getting out of this place instead of your snapchat streaks

“okay, let’s just-” you run a hand through your hair before looking around the room, “just help me look for something, anything we can use to defend ourselves in case we need to- i don’t know, fight someone?“

“oh, god. you think we’re going to have to fight our way out of here?” jungkook whines, his brows knitting together in concern

you whip around to glare at him, “you’re the stronger one out of the two of us, so you better be prepared to fight if we need to, you wuss-”

there’s a bunch of junk scattered around this bedroom so you’re sure you’ll be able to find something to use

you’re a little bit hesitant to get on top of this bed because you don’t know how old this house is and the sheets look pretty nasty

the mattress creaks underneath your knees as you crawl on top of it and your nose wrinkles at the musty, mildewy smell

gross

you flip over the questionably stained pillows one by one and perk up when you spot another folded note under one of them

“another one?” you mutter to yourself as you pick it up

don’t turn around

god

what is with all these cryptic messages, seriously?

you don’t have time to try to figure out what all of these mean!!

“y/n, check it out!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook holding a baseball bat up triumphantly, “found it in the closet!”

“oh, sweet! good job, kook.” you hop off the mattress (thank god) before scurrying over to join him by the closet, “what else is in here?”

you nudge him to the side before dropping to your knees to dig through the mess of items on the ground

“nothing much…” jungkook hums, “clothes… shoes… you know, normal things that go in a normal closet-”

you pause upon noticing a tattered looking leather journal buried underneath all the clothes

“and there’s this.” you pull it out and dust the cover off before wiping your hand on the side of your leg

it crinkles as you open it up and you smooth your hand over the first page

the pages are wrinkled and yellowed and honestly you can barely read the words because most of the ink is faded

you flip through it slowly and reach up to adjust jungkook’s hand so that you can get more light on the book

“what’s that?”

“someone’s journal or diary or something, i guess?”

“...i feel like that can’t be a good sign.”

you flip through the pages faster and faster and you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest

these messages are… creepy

don’t turn

can’t hide

no door

trust him? trust them?

all smiles :-)

“damnit.” you mutter to yourself as you bring the book closer to you to trY and read the faded messages

on the last page (the rest of the book is blank) is a messy sketch of what appears to be a bunch of long panels formed into the shape of an octagon with a little red ‘x’ in the very centre of it

okay

here’s what you know

you woke up in a room in a house and you don’t know how you got here

the only source of light you have is a shitty old flashlight

the only kind of weapon you have is a shitty old baseball bat

this journal has a bunch of weird messages scrawled inside of it but you don’t know if the information in it is important or if the owner of the journal is just insane

and… yeah!

that’s about it

there’s really not much else to unpack here

and as much as you would like to stay here wondering what the hell is going on, you really don’t have the time for this and it would probably be more productive to actively try to get out of this place

and you feel like if you bring the book with you, something spooky might happen… so maybe you’ll just leave it be

at least that’s what all the scary movies you’ve ever watched have taught you

you never mess with the journals!

you toss the book aside before getting up onto your knees and dusting them off

“alright, c’mon-” you brush past kook and head towards the door with the baseball bat in your hand, “let’s go.”

jungkook’s lips part and he lets out a squawk before stumbling over to join you, “what- wha- what do you mean ‘let’s go’?”

you turn to look at him right as you’re about to reach for the doorknob before raising a brow, “i mean, let’s get out of this room so we can get out of this house-“

“no!” jungkook shakes his head frantically before backing up, “i-i think we should just stay in here until the morning. it’ll be safer that way and we’ll be able to find everyone else a lot easier.”

your shoulders drop and you resist the urge to roll your eyes

he wants to STAY here?

you’d very much like to LEAVE here so you can go back to the comfort of your own home

and you feel really gross!! you wanna take a shower!! rinse all this grime off!!

“jungkook, from the looks of it, it’s not going to be morning for a couple more hours, and you said yourself that the flashlight probably isn’t even going to last one hour.” you gesture to the flashlight in his hand - which flickers and dies for a brief second, proving your point - before placing a hand on your hip, “now, c’mon. i have a bat. you have your fists. we’ll be fine.”

“but- what about that note you read earlier? a-about not letting the light die and stuff? a-and all the messages in that book?”

“exactly! we can’t let the light die - someone had to have put it there for a reason, right?” you appeal to jungkook’s spooky little conspiracy in an attempt to get him to lift his feet up off the ground, “that means that we need to make use of our only source of light and get out of here as soon as possible, okay? we have each other. we’ll be fine, kook.”

jungkook chews anxiously at the inside of his cheek as he thinks to himself

a good ten seconds of silence ticks by and he still hasn’t responsed

oh for god’s sake

you let out an exasperated sigh, “look, if it makes you feel any better, i’ll lead the way! and we can hold hands or something.”

“i don’t-” jungkook reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, “i don’t need to hold your hand-“

“alright, fine, we won’t hold hands since you’re a big strong man who definitely isn’t scared shitless right now,” you shake your head and reach for the doorknob again, “can you please just get over here so that we can-”

BAM!

you immediately fall backwards in surprise when suddenly someone starts pounding at the door

you wince as your elbows hit the ground and sharp pain shooTs up your arms

“are you okay??” jungkook helps you back up onto your feet and you nod quickly as you keep your eyes glued on the door

it’s being pounded on so hard that it’s practically vibrating

“HELP! HELP ME!”

you recognise the voice to be taehyung’s and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief even though relief should be the last emotion that this situation brings

“LET ME IN, PLEASE- PLEASE, I KNOW YOU GUYS ARE IN THERE, PLEASE LET ME IN-”

you go to open the door but jungkook suddenly grabs the back of your arm and yanks you backwards, “n-no!”

“wha-” you turn around to look at him with wide eyes, “what do you mean ‘no’?! are you insane??”

jungkook’s grip tightens around your arm and he looks over at the door warily, “y/n, don’t open it!”

“PLEASE- PLEASE, I DON’T WANT TO DIE-”

“we have to open the door!” you hiss, “taehyung’s in trouble!”

“but- if you open that door, all three of us could die!” jungkook stammers, “that locked door is the only thing keeping us alive! we don’t know what’s out there, y/n!”

you jump as the doorknob starts to rattle violently

at this point, taehyung could probably break the door down and come in himself

you look down at jungkook’s hand around your arm and then back up towards the trembling door

What do you want to do?

> [A]: Open the door! That’s your friend out there! Taehyung would do the same thing for you… right? Wouldn’t he?

> [B]: Are you serious right now?! Jungkook’s right! You can’t open the door, otherwise whatever’s out there is going to get you guys too! Sorry, but everyone for themselves…

Place your vote here.

You have one hour.

Good luck.

#choh2020 #choh2020 drabbles

155 notes · View notes

teamhappyme · 3 years

Text

a series of promising events (2/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 10.6k (yeah i have a spacing problem)

a/n: part 2 of this series is here! some dialogue, cases, and themes taken directly from criminal minds (S03 EP20, S04 EP01, & S05 EP08). originally, i had it planned to be 3 parts, but after editing, and looking at the word count, it makes more sense to be 5 parts. i don’t want to inundate you lovely people with massive word counts (even though 10k is massive) so this is the finalized count. because i finally got my shit together and finished this out, part 3 will be up wednesday morning, part 4 will be up friday morning, and the final part 5 will be up sunday morning. thank you to everyone who showed some love for part one, and thank you to anyone else who stumbled across my crazy writing and read along!

at the end, I’ve tagged the peeps that interacted with part 1. if you don’t want to be tagged for the other parts, just let me know :)

ok enough of my rambling inner monologue, here we go friends!

link to part 1: here

****

May 2008

We were in New York, investigating what started out as five connected shootings in the city. After twelve hours, we were up to nine fatalities.

We delivered the profile at nine thirty, finally satisfied with the outcome after a day's worth of combing over crime scene photos and witness statements. Hotch didn’t want to waste another second, making sure the profile went out before the night shift went out to patrol.

“Now, our first theory is that we’re dealing with a team.” Derek started. “In the case of the D.C. snipers, there was actually one intended victim.”

“John Muhammad wanted to kill his ex wife, but he knew if he did, he’d be the prime suspect, so he created a spree in order to mask his primary motivation.”

Spencer added before turning to SSA Joyner. “Muhammad and Malvo also left a death card at one of their scenes, just like this unsub.”

“We believe our unsubs have studied that case. They’re opening a line of communication.”

There was an outpouring of judgement focused on us, since we were in charge of the D.C. snipers case as well. These unsubs know we’re here, and they’re trying to show they can outthink us.

“Yes, they are playing games. But what that tells us is at least one of them has some intelligence.” You tried to hold your ground, and not let their opinions get to you.

“And like I said,” Prentiss interrupted, ready to put these cops in their place. “They know these cases. He’s also studied the placement of the surveillance systems well enough to avoid detection.”

“We’ve asked officers to canvass their precincts, and look out for a father-son type of duo that fit the dominant-submissive profile.” Rossi had Reid hand out some gang related profiles, just in case the profile shifted. But we were pretty confident in our first go.

“Talk to the people on your beats, look out for anything suspicious. And let's pray that this isn’t random.” The detective in charge finished and let his precinct disperse.

“Hey y/n/n, we’re gonna head back in five if you want a spot in the fun suburban.” JJ teased and lightly shoved Spencer’s shoulder.

You smiled and started packing up your backpack. “Okay. Just, leave the fragile doctor alone.”

After packing up any files you wanted to review when you got back to the hotel room, you let Morgan and Rossi know the four of you were headed out. They weren’t much further behind with Prentiss and Garcia.

You met Reid and JJ in the lobby, droopy eyes and mouths full of yawns adorning the three of you. It was a long day, and it was only going to be worse tomorrow.

“Where’s Hotch?” You asked, ready to get your feet out of these narrow leather dress shoes. You were wearing your combat boots tomorrow.

“He’s checking in with the lady friend.” JJ nodded her head toward Hotch, who was conversing with Joyner in her office. They were standing close, and you thought you caught a smile on his face. “Do you think they’re into each other?”

“She looks like she could be Haley’s twin,” Spencer added and you sighed.

The moment the team arrived at HQ this morning, everybody noticed the resemblance to Hotch’s ex-wife. SSA Kate Joyner went pretty far back with our unit chief. They went through the academy together and had some assignments overlap over the years. If it were up to Morgan and Garcia, the two of them would be out on a date right now. But you and Rossi quickly quieted the rumors, not wanting to deal with the rage that was Aaron Hotchner if he knew we were discussing his love life.

It had barely been six months since Haley left with Jack, and Hotch had just taken off his wedding band a few weeks ago. He didn’t tell any of you until you all witnessed him getting served in the office. It slapped you across the face, especially since you’d just met Haley and Jack for a quick lunch a month and a half before. I guess she wanted Hotch to tell you when he was ready.

As much as you valued your three year friendship with Aaron Hotchner, you knew Haley deserved better. Hotch adored his wife and son, and would fight heaven and earth to keep them safe. Unfortunately, he was too busy fighting the demons from hell to be a present father and husband. Everyone had their breaking point, and Haley had hit hers. From what Hotch has told you, they’re still amicable, and are trying to be friends again. After all, it wasn’t a lack of love that ended their marriage. It was a lack of prioritizing his family.

“Knock it off. He’s on his way over.” The three of you turned to one another, pretending to hold an intriguing conversation about one of Spencer’s magic tricks. Truthfully, you were always intrigued in his magic tricks; you never understood how he could pull endless quarters out of your ear. But that conversation would have to wait for another day.

“Ready to go?” Hotch pulled the keys out of his pant pocket, and the three of you nodded as Spencer called shotgun. A smile crossed your lips, never getting over the jovial things Spencer loved to claim when his intellect wasn’t needed to solve a case.

The fifteen minute ride to the hotel downtown was silent. You were all exhausted, emotionally and physically, sick of having to watch people die over and over again.

The four of you made it into the lobby, tomorrow morning’s papers already spread across the table. “The late edition didn’t miss a beat.” You said and picked up one of the papers, the headline reading ‘Execution Style’ with a still from one of the murders. You showed it to Hotch and he shook his head.

“I’m glad I never stooped to this level when I was publishing.” You murmured, reading the first paragraph of the article.

“JJ,” Spencer started and pointed across the lobby, causing all of us to turn. It was Detective Will LaMontagne Jr., JJ’s adorably chivalrous Louisiana boyfriend.

“Will.” You could practically hear the smile on her face as she led the walk over to him.

He was supposed to fly into D.C. to visit JJ for the weekend, but came to surprise her in New York when he heard the news. Spencer and I shared a look as Hotch extended a hand to him.

“Detective.”

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, I know you’re working. But, um. I can’t stand you being on this case. And me not being here, not with what’s going on.”

JJ shook her head in the slightest, and you started to get nervous.

“Is there a problem?” Hotch asked, concern completely taking over his voice at the thought of any harm happening to his team. The couple shared a knowing look, and your patience was starting to run thin with the information being withheld. JJ meant the world to you, and you wanted to make sure she was okay.

Reluctantly, she turned to face you all, a shy smile covering her face. “I’m pregnant.”

Spencer looked over at you, not knowing how to react to the news. But you couldn’t help the smile widening on your face.

“Oh my god, JJ! Congratulations!” You wrapped your arms around her and she laughed, most likely out of relief. This was a secret she kept for a long time.

“I’ve asked JJ to marry me,”

“Will.” She cut him off as Hotch gave him a congratulatory handshake.

“We’re working out some kinks.” He added as Spencer was next to hug your blonde friend. A baby, in the BAU. You might have been more excited than JJ.

“We’ll, uh, give you both some privacy.” Hotch started towards the elevator, and JJ was quick to follow.

“Hotch,” She didn’t continue, you knew this wasn’t the exact situation she wanted to tell everyone she was having a baby.

“JJ, you could have told me.”

The tenderness in his voice could have broken your heart in two right then and there, but add on the fact that you swore you could see Hotch’s eyes tear in the slightest, you were done. You didn’t want to mention it in front of Reid, but you knew this had to do with Haley. You’d be an idiot not to notice.

The three of you filed into the elevator, leaving JJ and Will to talk in private. You all got off on the fourth floor, Reid’s room the first to come up in the hallway.

“Night Spencer.”

“Goodnight. Seven a.m.,” He reminded you as he opened the door with his keycard.

You and Hotch walked down another ten feet before he found his room.

“Goodnight,” He mumbled out and reached for his key.

“Hotch,” He closed his eyes, nodding his head in the slightest.

“I’m tired, y/n.” You could’ve pushed harder. You could have gotten him to crack if you started nagging enough. You’d earned the title as baby sister from the team since you could whine and nag them into doing anything. But tonight didn’t seem like a good time for your skills.

You nodded, understanding this conversation wasn’t going to happen.

“Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

Despite your best efforts, you didn’t sleep a wink. Hotch had gone over his files and called for Kate to meet him in the lobby. But then there was an explosion, and you had to watch from your window as Hotch sat by Joyner, waiting for her to die.

Once the team had caught the second unsub and wrapped everything up at the precinct, you headed to the hospital to check on Hotch. And unsurprisingly, he was refusing any further treatment for the ringing in his ears he tried to deny. You saw him kick Rossi out of the room, the third member that couldn’t get through to him.

“Bobo, why don’t you give it a try. Can’t yell at the baby with a broken arm.” You were the one to tackle the unsub, and landed pretty hard on the pavement downtown. Nothing a black cast covered in smiley faces from Spencer and Garcia couldn’t fix.

“I know you can’t tell, but I’m flipping you off right now.” You responded to Morgan as you raised your casted hand toward him.

You headed to Hotch’s room, knocking on the window before you walked in.

“I swear to god if you try to put me in another MRI,” He started to raise his voice when you interrupted him.

“Shit, I should go tell Morgan he was wrong. Boss is willing to yell at the baby with a broken arm.”

He turned around to face you, the lines on his forehead disappearing once he saw it was you and not Rossi.

“What happened to your arm?” You smiled and glanced down at the cast. “Just another day on the job. Tackled the unsub, the pavement was not very kind to me.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to put his tie back around his neck. You scoffed, stepping over to him.

“Why the hell would you want to put that back on?”

“Because it’s part of my suit.”

You knew better than to pull it out of his hands. He was holding on to any semblance of control, and his outfit was all that he had left. Instead you took a seat in the stiff chair across from him, watching as he grimaced every time he lifted his arms too high.

“If your goal is to get me to stay another minute here under observation, you’re not gonna win.”

You shook your head. “That’s not my goal.”

He sighed, giving up on putting his tie on. He moved to finish his top button, he was at least going to be covered.

“You should be excited for JJ.” You started, testing the water on this subject.

“Did I suggest otherwise?” He asked and you shook your head.

“When was the last time you saw Jack?” His eyes widened the slightest, and you regretted asking the question. You gripped the arms of the chair, ready to be ripped a new one.

Instead, Hotch let out a sigh, and you snapped your head up. “Two weeks. Haley went to visit her mother for a week, and then we went from Florida to New York in three days.”

He was already away from Jack half the week when they were still living under the same roof. Now he was lucky if he got to say goodnight on a weekend.

“Why don’t you take some time off? I’m sure you have weeks saved up. I’ve been here three years and have never seen a tan on you.”

He shook his head. “Strauss would never approve of it.”

“Hotch,”

“Y/n, I really want to get out of this hospital room and call my son.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine. But you’re not flying home. You have a choice between Morgan and Rossi to drive you home. My recommendation would be Morgan, you don’t want to sit through four hours of Opera music.”

You stood up, refusing to meet his eye. You were sick of dealing with stubborn men.

“I’ll see if they can fax your records to D.C. before we leave.”

He muttered out a thank you as you left the room, shaking your head at the rest of the team.

“Nothing?” Morgan asked as you returned to them.

“Nothing. Even the baby gets yelled at.” Spencer spared you a glance and you gave him a small smile. You would be fine. “And Derek, you’re driving him back.”

***

January 2010

You didn’t think it could get worse than seeing Hotch with nine stab wounds at the hands of Foyet. You desperately wanted to believe that it couldn’t be worse than that. But you were naive to think that he would let Aaron survive and not make him suffer.

None of you would be able to erase the image of Haley’s bloody body lying in the home where she and Aaron created their family. You wouldn’t forget the sight of Hotch beating into Foyet’s face, or the sobs that raked through his body once Derek had shaken him off. This was a tragedy that shaped the entire team.

After Haley’s death, the seven of you took turns checking in on Hotch, Jack, and Haley’s sister Jessica. She stayed close by when Hotch was on leave, helping him with Jack’s routine, and how to explain to the four year old where his mommy went. She moved back into her apartment a few blocks away before Aaron returned to work. He wanted to prove to her that he could do this on his own, that he could be the strong father that Jack deserved, and that Haley would be proud of.

While the three of them were together, the team would try and make it over every Saturday for dinner. Hotch needed to be around friends, and Jessica needed a guilt free night to spend with the people that made her feel good. He was reluctant at first, not wanting us over the apartment, complaining that it was a mess, and it was too small to fit everyone. But it was impeccably neat, the result of a widow not being able to sleep. Once he became comfortable with us coming around on Saturday’s, we’d pick two weeknights to stop by with a dinner, movie, or game to help take their minds off of the pain. Although you and JJ stopped by every friday regardless of whose week it was, Hotch really appreciated the extra company, and so did Jack.

Despite his attempts at being independent, there were one too many distressed calls being made to you or JJ if he couldn’t get a hold of Jess, or if he didn’t want to burden her with the responsibility.

Your feelings about Jack Hotchner hadn’t changed in the four years since you met him. You would still do anything to see the adorable little boy smile. So, it was easy to say that you didn’t mind the late night phone calls worrying about Jack’s stuffy nose or when he should take the chicken out of the freezer without it going bad. Because the more he reached out to any one of you, the closer he was to finding a new normal.

However, all of you were surprised to see SSA Aaron Hotchner in his office only a month and a half after the event. Sure, he made remarkable progress, but you all assumed he would take a little more time, maybe take Jack on a well deserved vacation. Instead, you walked into the office on a monday morning, Hotch the first one in attendance.

That was two weeks ago.

The readjustment period had worn off, and Hotch was back to being a drill sergeant. Even more aggressive than he was before.

The case we were working was local, saving us the discomfort of sleeping in a hotel bed. We were in Virginia, investigating two murdered families, similar to ‘The Fox’.

“Who?” You asked, not familiar with the creepy nickname.

“Four years ago Karl Arnold, aka the fox, killed eight families.” Derek informed you. It must have been just before you started at the BAU.

“Similar to this case he took the father’s wedding rings, except in his case he took them as trophies.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch, you gave evidence at Arnold’s trial. I think you should go see him.” Derek was acting unit chief since before Haley’s death, and continued his position even with Hotch’s return. Strauss was weary now more than ever to give Aaron the title back so quick.

“I’d like to take l/n with me.” You looked over to Hotch, his eyes resting on yours, waiting for your approval.

You gave a small nod, placing your sunglasses over your eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Hotch got the keys to a suburban and before you could meet him at the car, Prentiss pulled you back.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay with this?” She was always looking out for you, heck she was the one that made you pack extra barf bags for crime scenes. She knew meeting face to face with a family killer would do a number on you. But Hotch can’t face this guy on his own. Not after what happened.

“I’m good. Not the first time I've interrogated a psychopath.” She reluctantly nodded.

“Okay. Just, let Hotch take the lead.”

You gave her arm a squeeze. “I will. Let’s find this guy.”

The ride to Red Onion Supermax was a short and quiet one. Hotch filled you in on the particulars of Arnold’s case, making sure you knew it inside and out. This was a team effort after all.

You couldn’t get a clean read on Hotch, however, on the ride over. He’d yet to crack a true smile or laugh in the weeks he’d been back, which normally wouldn’t be so out of character for him. But Reid had been trying to get him to crack with every magic trick he knew, even agreeing to let Derek joke about his lack of childhood and understanding of pop culture. But nothing worked.

It worried you to see the regression he’s made since coming back. You knew how happy he was at home with Jack, that a smile crossed his face most of the day when he was playing legos with his son. You hoped he was here because he wanted to be, not because he felt like he had an obligation to the team or the Bureau.

“Karl has a big ego. He’s going to answer every question with a question. He’ll try to gain the advantage with me by asking why I’m not wearing my wedding ring.” You looked down at his left hand, the gold band that you noticed on your first day, now gone, along with the woman he loved. “And then he will turn his attention to you.”

“So that’s why you brought me along.”

“Your presence will throw him off guard. And he’s going to want to describe to you in graphic detail every sexual act he committed with the families.”

“To freak me out?” Because you haven’t even met this sick bastard and you were certainly already freaked out.

Hotch met your eye, and you knew this was only going to get worse. “To pull you into his fantasy.”

The guard radioed for the gate to open, and you tried to contain the tremors in your hands. This was a wing of psychotic sexual sadists, they would pick up on your nervous ticks.

You looked to Hotch once the gate opened, and he nodded for you to go in.

“Go ahead.” You followed the guard in, surprised at the lack of noise you were welcomed with. “Keep your eyes forward. More than anything he’s going to want to see images of the children.”

“We can’t give him that.” You argued, as you started to hear the men from their cells.

“We have to give him something or we’ll get nothing from him.”

You’d kept your breathing under control the entire walk down the hallway, until a man crashed against the glass, causing you to flinch and spare a glance.

“Isn’t that, uh,-”

“Derek Payne.” He finished for you, his eyes still straight ahead.

“It’s reinforced glass.” You scoffed. Of course he wasn’t worried about another man ripping him apart.

“Easy for you to say, he tore apart fourteen women.”

The door opened to the interrogation room, and this time Hotch entered first. You were met with Karl Arnold, red bushy hair and a beard to match. He was average height, and a little stocky, not what you pictured him to look like.

“Hello Karl,” Hotch greeted him as we settled in on the other side of the table.

“Agent Hotchner,” He stood. “I wasn’t informed you were bringing a, uh,” He glanced at you, looking you up and down before turning back to Hotch. You really regretted wearing a white silk top with your dress pants today. “They just said two agents.”

“This is Agent-”

“Y/n, l/n.” You tried to control the dilation of your eyes as he looked right through you. “I know all about you.”

Now you understood why Emily asked you if you were sure about this. He kept his eyes on Hotch as he started the interrogation, never looking you in the eyes longer than a second. Even if you directed a question toward him, he would only answer to Hotch. He was a misogynist. You don’t know why you’re so surprised at this discovery, he tortured wives and families.

When he offered up his book of dialogue between him and his fans, he smelled your perfume as you reached across the table to grab it. Hotch quickly took it for you, letting you sit back down in your seat. Your gut was no longer in your stomach, it was lodged in your throat.

“How’d you lose your ring, Agent Hotchner?” It was beyond your level of profiling to understand how Hotch could just sit there and take the assault on his personal life from a man who ruined families, especially with what he’d just been through. You’d never mastered the art of compartmentalization quite like Hotch. But right now, you were thankful for your uncontrollable emotions.

“I can look past your refusal to answer my question, if you let me see the children. It’s the only way I can truly help you.” You gripped the files harder at the mention of the victims and looked at Hotch.

“Can I speak with you for a second?” He nodded and the two of you stood.

“Is there something wrong, y/n?” You bit back the sarcasm that was threatening to fall from your mouth.

“Nothing’s wrong, Karl.”

You exited the interrogation room, still clutching the files close to your chest.

“We cannot show him these.”

He looked at Arnold, who seemed to find your eyes, even through the reflective mirror. “These images will be his undoing and will lead us to the killer.”

“These are not just images.”

“That’s exactly what they are.”

“Hotch, I am not about to parade a dead twelve year old girl in a bathing suit in front of a serial killer who gets off on it.” You raised your voice, not willing to compromise any respect you had left for these victims.

“Then show him the others. It’ll gain his trust and get him talking. He won’t talk to me, he knows I know everything that gets him off. But he’ll want to tell you just what he would do to them. I told you, he wants to pull you in.”

You shook your head. “These are children! Helpless children whose fathers have to live with what this animal did to their families! These strangers do not get to see the torture and humiliation that they went through.”

“If you can’t stomach showing him what he desires, then I’ll do it. Because we’re not leaving until we get a name out of him. You’re either with the team or you’re not.”

You scoffed. “You’re not the unit chief anymore. I do what Morgan says if we can’t come to an agreement.”

It was bold of you to remind him of his subordinate place. But you were equals now, despite the decade between you two. You didn’t have to listen to his orders if you felt they were wrong.

He reached for the files, but you turned away from him. “I’m going in there. Not you. But I’m going to run the interrogation my way, not exposing these children. If you have a problem with that, you can call Morgan.”

You motioned for the guard to let you back in. You took your seat across from Karl, a smirk still evident on his face.

“What, no Agent Hotchner?”

“You know, yours was one of the first cases I studied,” You started, trying to loosen up the muscles in your face. Going against every natural instinct in your body was making it hard to relax. “I’ve been fascinated ever since. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was embarrassed with him in the room.”

“You’re embarrassed because you want to know what I did, don’t you.” You pushed out a smile, a little giggle behind it to entice him.

And of course it did. “Yes.”

“I can show you exactly what I did to them.”

“Tell me.” You tilted your head to the side, pushing some hair behind your ear. You were fighting the bile rising in your throat with every word you exchanged with him.

“Children are so precious, so clean. But they need guidance, especially the girls.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Girls have much more to lose than boys. It’s a fact, the female body can handle pain much better.” If this wasn’t a serial killer across from you, you’d agree with him and make some jokes about the female anatomy. But he was enjoying this, just like Hotch said. He was pulling you in.

“What did you do to them?”

He smiled. “I showed them, what men, their fathers, and brothers, are capable of.”

“And what is that?”

“Once I killed the children, It always amazed me how little the father fought the inevitable, the dying.”

“I never thought I would get these answers, let alone from the man himself.” You pushed out another smile, because you knew he was holding back. He was almost willing to trust you, he just needed to be groomed a little more.

“It takes a good woman, to make an honest man. And you’re prettier than Agent Hotchner.”

He was dancing around the information now, knowing that he had your time and attention. “Karl, do you know why you killed all those families?”

“I already told you why.”

You dropped the sweet tone, and pushed up on your elbows. “No, you told me how. And your motivations were all driven by sex, motivations you learned from your father.”

You saw him flinch, and you knew you were getting somewhere.

“You assert your dominance by making the father, the head of the household, watch you torture, assault, and take anything you wanted from the people he’s supposed to protect. Now your admirer, they don’t have the same ambitions as you do. And normally, that would bother a man like you. You want to be adored for every single part of your mess. But like you said, they’re an admirer, not a fan. So I’m guessing it’s a woman, who you’ve really come to care for.”

He tugged on his shackled wrists, you clearly got what you were looking for.

“Those women, those girls, they needed to be taught a lesson. How to obey who’s in charge. And you,” he laughed as he inched as far across the table as he could. “The things I would do to you if I weren’t nailed to this table. You’d be done before I could call your name.”

Before you could respond, Hotch came into the room, demanding a name. You stood up, no longer needing to play a role.

“It must be distracting, working with such a beautiful woman everyday.” You didn’t spare him another glance as you heard him mumble out a name to Hotch, finally getting what he wanted: power over you.

“Morgan, we’ve got a name. It’s a female guard in intake. Get everybody here ASAP.” The guard led you and Hotch back down the hallway, through the lion's den, and back to the elevator. Once inside, you let out a breath. Hotch turned to look at you, but you spoke up before he had the chance.

“Don’t ask me to do that ever again.”

You would’ve yelled at him, tore him to pieces in the elevator ride from the fourth floor to the exit, but there was a guard escorting you out. You didn’t want him to have the privilege of watching two FBI agents battle it out. And honestly, you weren’t sure if you had the heart to yell at him after all he’d been through.

But once you were escorted through the exterior gates, your team in sight, you regained the nerve to give Hotch a piece of your mind.

Not before he spoke first though.

“You did exactly what needed to be done. I didn’t ask you to act that way toward him, and I’m sorry you feel that that was your only way in. But I’m not going to apologize for getting the name of the killer.”

“So you would have acted in the same degrading way if the roles were reversed?”

He scoffed. “Yes, I would have. Because unlike you, my feelings don’t impair my judgement or ability to do this job. You’re an asset to this team, you need to find a way to get your emotions in check.”

You stopped walking, turning around to face him. You were in the middle of the driveway now, SWAT and BAU canvassing the scene. But you were going to do this here and now.

“The only reason you brought me here was to appeal to that sick son of a bitch. The only thing that makes me an asset to you is the fact that I have a vagina and you don’t. You turned me from a Supervisory Special Agent into a fighting fuck toy! You watched as I drained every ounce of respect I had for myself to turn into what that psychopath desired, all because I wouldn’t show him pictures of innocent children.” He looked over your shoulder to the team, embarrassed that they were hearing this. “At least have the respect to look at me while I’m talking to you!”

Hotch had never heard you yell like this. You were the calm one, the baby, as Derek called you. No one ever pushed you so far over the edge to get a reaction out of you. At least, not until he did.

“The next time you ask me, JJ, Prentiss, or Garcia to flirt our way into a serial killer's mind, to expect us to degrade ourselves in order to save another woman, I will not hesitate to report you to Strauss.” You could hear footsteps behind you, but you continued on as tears started to form in your eyes. “You used to say that my empathy was what made me an amazing agent. That my ability to connect with victims and families was the reason I’m here. So do not try and make me feel worthless for possessing something that you wish you could have. Because the way you act, with no capability for empathy, is a depressing way to live.”

“Y/n,” Spencer rested a hand on your shoulder, but you shook it off.

“Figure out the man you want to be.”

Before you could say anything else, Spencer dragged you away from Hotch and towards the cars. You could feel the tears freely falling down your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove them. You ignored the stares from the rest of your team, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing what went down in that interrogation room. Instead, you got into the passenger seat of the suburban, and Spencer started the drive back to the office.

Rationally, you knew you went off too hard at him. He never deliberately asked you to flirt with Arnold. He asked you to show him the pictures of Lucy, to get him to crack under the fantasy. But you refused. You would rather make yourself go through that pain than any young child. It’s what you’d always done.

Spencer tried to convince you they hadn’t heard the conversation. That they were all too focused on SWAT’s apprehending of the guard to pay attention.

“Spence,” You started and looked over at him. “We all had our earpieces in. You heard every word.”

And he was silent the rest of the ride back. You were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to go home and fall asleep on your couch with reruns playing in the background. But you had a mountain of paperwork to finish, and still needed to debrief when the team got back.

Halfway through your stack, the team came back to the bullpen. Prentiss gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze as she passed by, heading for her desk. Derek had agreed to let everyone go home without debriefing. This was the earliest we’d been done with a case so close to home. We needed to capitalize on our rest.

JJ was the first to go home, excited to be home in time for dinner with Will and Henry. Prentiss and Rossi followed shortly after, going to celebrate the win of this case at an expensive restaurant, at Dave’s expense.

“Come on you two, don’t make me drag you out of here kicking and screaming.” Derek addressed you and Reid as he pulled his coat on.

“We’re right behind you boss man.” Spencer said and turned his desk light off, grabbing his cane. He should be able to ditch all mobility aids soon.

You swung your backpack over a shoulder and turned off your own light. You didn’t even make it out of your four foot space before Hotch called out to you.

“Y/n, could I see you before you leave?” He was standing in front of his office, on higher ground than the rest of us. Power move, you thought to yourself. But he wouldn’t be that petty.

You looked back to Reid and Moran, the former nodding to you before seeing himself to the elevator. Now it was just Spencer, his eyes begging for you to leave.

“I don’t need to remind you how deeply you care for all of us. But if you keep putting yourself out there to comfort him, you’re going to get destroyed.” This was the first time Spencer had mentioned this to you. Sure, you’d been helping Hotch out at home, a little more than normal, but everybody was pitching in. His wife died for god's sake.

“Spence, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He let out a sigh and fidgeted with his cane. You found it at a consignment shop on one of your weekends off, and bought it for him without hesitation. It had an eagle engraved in it’s clutch, something regal, medieval, and screamed Spencer Reid. You ignored the price, a forty dollars more than you would’ve liked to spend on a walking stick, but the look on his face when you gave it to him was priceless.

“You need to stand up for yourself. Nothing excuses the way he treated you today. Regardless of your decision to play a character.”

God, could he read you.

“No pair of rose colored glasses could cloud that. Not even yours.” He gave you one last shadow of a smile before limping his way to the elevator.

Once you regained your composure, you turned to make your way up to Hotch’s office. He was sitting in his chair, staring at the paperwork waiting to be filled out before him. You knocked on the open door, and he stood up without even looking at you. You were going to take Spencer’s advice and stick up for yourself, so you had to set the pace.

“Can this be quick? I wanted to get home before traffic started up.” He rounded the front of his desk, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against it.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you back at the prison.” You nodded, not wanting to verbally accept the apology that was due to you hours ago. “I was out of line and completely blinded by the case. I should’ve listened to you and taken your reservations into consideration. It was narcissistic of me to think I was the only one capable of making the right decision.”

“Thank you.” You stuttered out, still absorbing the tone of his voice. His word choice was self deprecating, a cry for help if you didn’t know any better.

“Y/n,” He started but was interrupted by a shaky breath. “I hate that I made you feel like all you’re good for is to romance your way into their heads. You deserve to be treated with respect, to be valued because of your empathy and your psychological understanding of victims and their families. If I’ve ever made you feel like you were worthless before this afternoon, please tell me.”

“No, you’ve never made me feel that way.”

He nodded before turning to grab a piece of paper from his desk.

“Good. Because I’ve written up a complaint for Strauss, describing my behavior and language directed toward you today. You shouldn’t have to wait for a next time to file it.”

He extended the paper to you, and you walked until you were standing in front of him, accepting the complaint into your hands. But you didn’t even read it before tearing it in two.

“What are you doing?”

“Hotch, I’m not filing a complaint against you. Everything that I did today was my choice. You didn’t force me into anything.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the first time you’ve seen it tousled in the office.

“I was uncomfortable showing Arnold those pictures. So I made the choice to play a character, to appeal to his fantasy. You weren’t in the room, and you didn’t suggest that. If anything, you tried more than anything to get me to stick to the script. Did you have some choice words for me that weren’t necessarily appropriate? Yes. But we all have our moments. After we got out of there, I felt sick that I had to do that to get a name out of him. It wasn’t the first time I’ve camouflaged myself for the greater good, and it won’t be the last. I took out the self hatred I had on you, because you were there. Because if I did it your way, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror again without feeling ashamed. But you didn’t deserve it.”

“Yes, I do. I deserve to be ridiculed for telling you that your empathy is a weakness. I deserve to be ridiculed for yelling at Garcia for missing something on a search. I deserve,”

His voice broke, and you froze in place. You were about to see Aaron Hotchner cry for the first time in four years. “I deserve to be punished for Haley’s death.”

Your own eyes started to water as you saw a single tear roll down his cheek. Without thinking, you reached forward and held his hands in your own. They were shaking, and he tried to pull them away from you. But you held on tight, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hotch, look at me.” He kept his gaze on the windows, looking out onto the concrete roof.

“Hotch, please.” You were quieter the second time, and that’s what got him to meet your eyes.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you could’ve prevented Haley’s death if you did one thing instead of the other. Because no matter what you did, Foyet would’ve found her, and done this all over again.” He tried to look away from you, but you tugged on his hands, begging him to stay. “But what you did prevent, was Foyet taking away the greatest thing you and Haley ever made. You saved your son, Hotch. And you ended Foyet’s reign of terror. You get to spend every day reminding Jack how amazing his mother was. How strong, resilient, and fierce she was. How she looked death in the eye and didn’t even flinch. You get to live the rest of your life for your son.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting the few remaining tears fall down his face. You let your own fall with the reprieve of no longer being under his stare, not wanting to fall apart when he needed you.

“I love her. I never stopped loving her. The divorce, it wasn’t because of that. It was because of this job.”

You squeezed his hands before letting them go, letting him wipe off his face.

“I know. And I know she never stopped loving you.”

You never thought you would get to this moment when you first met Haley. You let out a small laugh while remembering your first encounter, how pregnant and angry she was at Hotch.

“What?” You smiled and shook your head.

“I’m just remembering the first time I met her. She was pregnant, she called you a robot, and was cracking jokes left and right to try and get you to crack.”

That got him to smile. “I could always make her laugh when we were younger. She had the funniest, most embarrassing laugh. But it was Haley. And it was addicting.”

You wanted him to remember her like this, with a smile on her face and the loving soul she was.

“I truly am sorry for what I said to you, but you have to know I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded. “I know you didn’t. Just apologize to Garcia in the morning, and get home to Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a small smile as you picked up your backpack.

Spencer’s words stung in your ears while you were holding Hotch’s hands. You loved everyone on this team as your family. And Hotch needed you to be there for him a lot more over the last two months. Sure, you’d brushed off some harsh conversations with him considering the circumstances, but you knew when it went too far, like today.

“Y/n,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, stopping you at the door. “Thank you.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Maybe you did care too much for people. But if it helped them get back to normal, you’ll continue wearing those rose colored glasses a little while longer.

***

March 2010

“I’m grocery shopping. Because I have no food in my apartment and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m sick of eating pizza.” You threw a box of cheerios in your cart, careful not to hit the eggs on their way in.

“That’s how you’re spending your saturday? Our first saturday off in a month?”

“Well, unless I want to spend another twenty bucks on one meal, I’ve gotta do my grown up chores.” “You need to get your butt back home so we can go out and drink.”

Emily was relentless, to say the least. Every single weekend you had off, her number popped up on your phone the minute you got home. She hated resting in her own solitude, and tried to drag you along for any activity she could think of. Shopping, drinking, walking around the national mall, and, in desperate cases, running. But her record wasn’t stellar in getting you to attend.

“I’m spending the afternoon with my couch, a book that has taken me too long to read, and probably eat an entire bag of smartfood.” You chucked a box of granola bars in your cart too when you heard a kid cry. You turned to the end of the aisle, but the parent was blocking the child. “Besides, it’s dinner tonight at Hotch’s.”

“He canceled this morning. Rossi was supposed to call and let you know.” You rolled your eyes. Of course Dave forgot.

“Daddy! I want the poptarts!” You heard the kid yell out again. But you knew that voice, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Em, I’ll see you on Monday. Have a shot for me.”

“I’ll have two.”

You laughed as you hung up the phone, pushing the cart over to your favorite little boy on the planet. You didn’t think to give the father another glance when you didn’t recognize him, but that’s because Aaron Hotchner is never without a suit at the office. He was dressed in jeans now and a quarter zip, looking like a normal dad.

When you approached the two boys, Jack was leaning against the shelf, tears streaming down his cheeks as he kicked his feet against the ground.

“It looks like SSA Hotchner could use some help profiling his son.”

Hotch was quick to stand up, meeting your eye. You only smiled while crouching down to Jack’s level.

“Hey little man, what’s the problem here?” He wiped the tears from his cheeks, and your heart broke at the redness in his eyes.

“Daddy won’t let me get any pop tarts.”

“That’s because you ate the whole box in one day without my permission.” Aaron argued back.

You hid your laugh in your shoulder, not wanting to upset Jack any more. But Hotch had already caused him to spiral into a meltdown again.

“Jack, have you ever had ants on a log?” He shook his head, tears continuing down his chubby cheeks. “Well, they were my favorite snack when I was little. It’s celery, peanut butter, and raisins all set up on a plate. And the best part is, you get to make it yourself! Now, I know how much you love peanut butter, and I bet if you ate this snack, Daddy will let you get poptarts the next time you go grocery shopping.”

“Okay.” He said and nodded his little head. “But I’m sick of grocery shopping.”

“Me too buddy.” I sat down next to him. “I do not like having to walk up and down these aisles searching for food. So, why don’t we sit here while daddy finishes his list?”

You spared a glance at Hotch and his practically full basket. You knew he would be done in ten minutes if you stayed here with Jack.

“Are you sure?” Aaron asked and you nodded.

“‘Course. I don’t need food that bad anyway.” He sighed and made his way back to his carriage.

You pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of your purse and handed it to Jack.

“Aunt Jessica told me that you know how to write your name now. Can you show me?”

He sat up straight, laying the paper down on the floor. You watched as he made a loopy uppercase J, followed with big and small letters to spell out the rest of his name.

“That’s awesome buddy. What about your last name?”

“Hotchner!” He yelled out and you laughed.

“Yeah, let me spell it out for you.” You wrote it out on the paper and it took him a few minutes to copy down.

“You’re turn now, y/n.” He handed you the pen and you wrote your name down, saying the letters as you wrote them. Jack repeated you, and it made you laugh. You forgot that kids were such sponges.

By the time you finished writing Aaron and Haley’s names for Jack, Hotch was back with his cart. “Alright buddy, it’s time for us to go. We gotta let y/n finish her grocery shopping.”

“No! I want y/n to come home with us for dinner. She was helping me spell everyone's names!”

You smiled as you stood up, giving Jack a hand. “Maybe next time buddy. But you gotta get home to try those ants on a log.”

“Actually, we’re making pizzas for dinner, Jack’s saturday choice. You can come over, if you don’t have any plans already.” You’d never heard Hotch this nervous before. It made you laugh a little.

“I’d love to. Only if I get to put extra cheese on my pizza though.”

“Of course!” Jack exclaimed and you matched his smile.

“Awesome! I’ll let you two pay for all this food and I’ll meet you at your house okay?” Jack nodded before running to the front of the cart.

“You sure you don’t have any plans? I don’t want you to give up another saturday night at my expense,”

“Hotch there is nothing more exciting than spending my weekends with the cutest four year old on the planet.” He smiled, but you knew he still wasn’t convinced. “Besides, every other twenty-nine year old I know is in a stuffy club in uncomfortable clothes. This is much more my pace.”

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay. We’ll meet you at the apartment in a half an hour.”

“Sounds good. See you soon Jack!” You waved to the little boy and quickly tried to finish buying the staples that could get you through a few days at home.

You got home and quickly put your food away, making sure everything that needed to be refrigerated was chilled. You switched your t-shirt for a long sleeve tee, opting for sneakers instead of boots. Comfort was the utmost importance on days off.

It took you twenty minutes to get to Hotch’s apartment from yours, arriving at five on the dot. You were known for, and proud of your punctuality. Hotch answered the door after two knocks, and you couldn’t help but focus on the noise of three different locks unlocking.

He greeted you with a slight nod of the head, button down replacing his quarter zip.

“Do you even own comfortable clothes?” “This is comfortable.” You rolled your eyes, as he took the poptarts from your hands, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Didn’t I just have this fight with my four year old son about not buying these?” He asked as he let you in the house.

“Yes, but I’m the fun dinner guest. I bring the treats for the children.”

He tried to hide the small huff of a laugh that escaped his lips, but you still caught it. “You will be the death of me.”

You let out a laugh as he led you into the kitchen, putting them away on the top cabinet. I reached for my hip and pulled my holster off, putting it on the counter.

“Do you have somewhere I can put this? Last thing I need is to drop it while I throw up my pizza dough.” He unlocked the drawer in his desk, placing it in there before locking it back up.

You heard tiny footsteps running down the hall. “Y/n! It’s pizza time!”

You smiled as he tugged at your legs. “I know! I’m so excited!”

“Alright buddy, you’re up first. Show y/n how we properly throw our pizza dough in the air.” Hotch pushed a step stool over to the counter, waiting for Jack to step up. The grin on the little boy's face was ginormous as he powdered his hands with flour, taking the small ball of dough Hotch separated for him.

The two of you were on either side of Jack, each ready to follow his lead in the process. “Ok, on the count of three. One, two, three!”

You spun the dough in your hands before throwing it in the air, watching it separate the slightest bit. Jack’s giggles filled the apartment as he let his dough fall onto the counter. Aaron shook his head, you could tell this part of the meal was always a struggle for the little boy.

You watched as Jack spread out the miniscule amount of sauce he wanted along his crust, topping it off with a mountain of cheese. You taught him the more cheese, the better, and he clearly still believed you. You added some pepperoni to your own oval shaped pie, unsuccessful in making a perfect circle crust. But, not everyone could be the perfect Italian chef like David Rossi.

While the pizza’s were in the oven, the three of you sat down to play a few rounds of Candyland. You hadn’t played since your time at DCFS, and you forgot how there was no real objective to the game. It certainly wasn’t your game of choice, but Jack was still a little young to be able to contend with you in a game of monopoly. A few more years, you thought.

Once the pizza’s were done, Jack helped you set the table as Hotch cut the pies. You felt a little out of place, crossing some very important boundaries by having dinner with just the two Hotchner boys. This saturday was much different than the ones you spent when the whole team was over, Henry and Jack putting on dance parties for the guests.

You started to become more aware of your actions around the apartment; how you knew where the placemats were kept, that Jack used his purple cup for milk at dinner, and the strict no electronics rule at the table. However, that had been established by Haley years ago. The thought of her had a shot of guilt running through your stomach, sitting down with her family for dinner, just three and a half months after she’d passed.

You’d been thinking a lot about what Spencer had said that night at the BAU. He was vague, too vague for the doctor that could tell you how long he’d been alive down to the second. After a few sleepless nights, you called the doctor in question and demanded he explain himself. But after his admission, you quickly regretted having all the information.

Spencer Reid has known you for almost five years now, and has seen you through the moments that have shaped your adult life. Killing Stephanie Moore, testifying in the fisher king case, being your excusing phone call from multiple dates, and holding your hand as you took in one of your former foster siblings from a bad relationship. There was absolutely nothing in your life that could be hidden from him.

So when he told you he noticed your feelings for Hotch ‘about two years ago’, you nearly stopped dead in your pacing tracks. Not because you didn’t know your own feelings for the man, but because you didn’t realize it had been that long. That he had been married to Haley, albeit only for a month longer, that you started to notice how handsome your boss was. Upon hearing the truth out loud, and from another person, you ran to the bathroom and threw up a few times.

You were so embarrassed, so ashamed of caring for someone that couldn’t be yours. For caring for someone who’s wife you truly adored. After the third round of puking, Spencer reassured you through the phone that it wasn’t your fault. We can’t control who we love. And yes, he said love.

“Are you okay y/n?” Jack’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. You smiled at his sauce covered face and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s your pizza, Jack?”

“Awesome! Daddy is the best pizza cooker ever!”

“You sure you’re okay? You look a little pale,” Aaron commented and referenced your plate. You hadn’t taken a bite.

“I’m good, really. Just thinking about how I’m going to make a bigger lego tower than Jack after dinner.”

That got the little boy to laugh, successfully switching the conversation to Jack’s favorite toys. But you noticed the glaces Hotch snuck your way, not believing you for a second. You were an awful liar.

The longer the three of you sat at the table, the larger your smile grew around these boys. Seeing Hotch being able to relax and really enjoy his time with Jack always brought a smile to your face. He was a natural father, sliding into the role of playmate and swaddler, cuddler and soother. You even remember him helping JJ out with Henry’s swaddle at work one day.

But you knew he felt guilty, not being able to be present in his son’s life everyday. You saw it in the hundred’s of views of the video of Jack’s first steps, the late night phone calls while away on a case just to say goodnight to his little boy. He missed out on a lot of the baby years, and he would be making it up to Jack for the rest of his life, with nights like these. With the whole weekend devoted to Jack Hotchner’s favorite things, minus the sugary pop tarts. Hotch had mastered the duality of being a Supervisory Special Agent for the FBI, and the loving father to Jack Hotchner. It was one of the reasons why you started caring so much for him.

“Alright Jack, you can build one tower with y/n, then it’s bath time and off to bed.” You saw the pout on Jack’s face as Hotch cleared our plates, and you helped him off the chair.

“Come on, maybe if we’re quick enough we can make two.”

He giggled as he led you to his room, stuffed animals and toys galore. This boy won’t want for a thing.

“Okay, you make a big blue one, I’ll do purple.”

You finished much quicker than the four year old, but under no circumstances would he let you sit and watch him make his masterpiece. Instead, since you had nearly two and a half feet on him, you stacked your tower on top of his and continued adding pieces to make it bigger. He cheered you on as it started to reach your head, and you were getting excited yourself. Until, it came to a crashing fall with the last green piece on top.

“Noo!” Jack yelled out, trying to catch the falling pieces.

“It’s okay Buddy, you can always make another one.” Aaron’s voice trying to soothe his son caught both you and the little guy’s attention.

The two of you turned to see Hotch leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. You wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“And maybe next time, we can make one as big as daddy.”

Hotch let out a laugh as Jack smiled at you in amazement. He liked how your brain worked.

“Bath time, bud. We gotta get your face cleaned up from all that pizza sauce, and ship you off to bed.”

“But y/n’s here,” He whined, not wanting the lego fun to end.

“Well I have to get home and take a shower too, bud. Don’t worry, there’s plenty more playdates in your future.” You said and stood up, giving the little boy a high five.

“Go wait for me in the bathroom okay, I’m gonna walk y/n out.”

“Okay. Bye bobo.” He said and ran off to the bathroom, leaving you speechless in his bedroom.

“You let him be around Derek Morgan way too much.”

“Probably. But you can’t compete with the guy who brings over a new lego set every weekend.” Hotch got your gun for you, walking you back to the front door.

“Are you kidding? You’re his hero, Hotch. He asked me last week if I was a superhero like daddy.” He cracked a smile, but his eyes were glued to the floor, unable to meet your own.

“Why did you cancel dinner tonight?” He sighed and lifted his head. You’d been wanting to ask him since you were at the grocery store. The team had been coming over for three months now, and it was something we all started to look forward to.

“I was sick of feeling like a burden to you all. I mean, asking you all to give up your Saturday nights, sometimes our only free night of the week to spend in my depressing apartment, it had been enough.” If only you could show this man how much the team cared for him through your eyes, he would never doubt his worth another day in his life.

“Hotch, the highlight of my week is coming here to be with you all. My family. Watching Henry and Jack play with each other, listening to Spencer and Penelope fight over who the true godparent is, and getting to be on the receiving end of Rossi’s awesome cooking?”

He nodded, mumbling an ‘I know’ a few times under his breath. But he needed to know that as much as you all come here for Jack, you guys care for Aaron and his well being just as much.

“I come here every saturday to make sure that Aaron Hotchner has not dressed in a suit for the sixth day in a row, and to make sure he knows that he’s doing such an amazing job with Jack. That he is being the best father, friend, and boss, that he can be.”

This time, his eyes were locked on yours as you got a real Aaron Hotchner smile out of him, dimples and all. You couldn’t help but make a check mark in the air, the team tally still going strong. He playfully rolled his eyes as you swung your bag across your shoulder.

“So who’s in the lead now?”

“Me, for the last six months. I can’t be dethroned.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, hoping he wouldn’t think too much into your stat keeping.

“Well, that seems like a pretty accurate tally.”

You made sure it was. And selfishly, you hoped no one else could get that beautiful smile to cross his face like you could.

“Thank you for coming over. We both had a lot of fun.”

“I did too. I’m around anytime, my tower building skills are not occupied for many other people.” He let out a laugh as he opened the door for you.

“Goodnight y/n. Let me know when you get home.”

“I will. Night, Hotch.”

You got home in twenty minutes, texting Aaron as you walked through your door. Quickly changing into pajamas and throwing Legally Blonde into the DVD player, your phone dinged at a new message.

It was from Hotch, a picture attached to the message. It was of Jack, towel wrapped around his head, eyes shut from grinning so wide. ‘He wanted me to send this to you. He said, ‘this is how happy I am that y/n was here tonight.’ Thanks again for everything. Goodnight.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pooled in your eyes at the sweet little boy in the picture, and his amazing dad behind the camera.

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites

#aaron hotchner x female! reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner

85 notes · View notes