#i wish you'd come back and we forget all that happened and i know i'd forgive you. i would always forgive you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped.

6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)

༺༻

Reid was abducted, once.

You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt.

Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating.

Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all.

You wish the others would understand that.

"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down.

You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you.

"You looked a little wobbly."

"Long night?" Morgan asks.

There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass.

"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine.

"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table.

He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time.

"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-"

"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow.

"Sorry."

And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless.

You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right?

You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty."

Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler.

"L/N?"

You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé.

You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone.

"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay."

If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth.

"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively."

"I know you won't be a burden."

You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July.

Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second.

"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.

"Sorry?"

You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?"

"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that."

"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving."

His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is."

You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe.

He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.

"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer.

"Well, go get it. This might be a long one."

—

The jet is a really nice jet.

It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet.

"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly.

You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease.

"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat.

You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins.

You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back.

You lick your lips.

"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?"

"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers.

"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests.

"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through."

"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks.

"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter.

You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him.

So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you.

She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication.

You'd almost died of dehydration.

"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress."

“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.

"She's angry," you say.

Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"

"Sir."

"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?"

They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments.

It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them.

The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up.

There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake.

Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.

You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon."

"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another."

"Thanks."

You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.

You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache.

"L/N?"

Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised.

"You okay?"

"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck.

You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway.

You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight.

—

Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two.

You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses.

"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly.

And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself.

Let's Scooby Doo this bitch.

"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle.

Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat.

What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man?

"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess.

The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick.

What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second?

The political theory feels more plausible.

"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped."

"What is she hoping for?"

He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM.

"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask.

"Good question."

He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia.

You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers.

You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed?

When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident.

The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt.

This boy had been cut from hip to hip.

"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says.

"Why?"

"I've been talking to you."

"I've been listening."

"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me."

You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise.

Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car."

He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden.

Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team.

In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside.

"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would.

"I don't know."

"I need a yes or no."

You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed.

Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life.

Unless you can get some new memories.

"I can do this."

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly.

You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown.

It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital.

"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word.

He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-"

"I don't need to go home."

He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way."

"I won't."

"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us."

You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday.

—

The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant.

You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room.

"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not.

"Did you sleep?" you ask.

JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair.

"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully.

"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases."

Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.

"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple."

"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back.

You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new.

"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer.

"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?"

He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile."

"But easily something someone else would've suggested?"

"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have."

"You have it."

"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says.

You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go.

Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now…

"I'm benched," you murmur.

"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork."��

"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?"

You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing.

"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?"

She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess?

You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk.

"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor."

He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."

"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"

"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes."

You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces.

They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect.

Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend.

Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.

"L/N," Hotch says.

You lift your face to his.

He's really quite close.

"Do you want to stay here?"

You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here?

His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways.

"Is that okay?" you ask.

He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think.

And then he leaves.

You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away.

She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult.

You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work.

You know all of this.

It won't stick.

You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek.

"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?"

"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back.

When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples.

You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches.

Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse.

"Are you there?"

"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton.

"What?"

You cast your gaze around the room.

You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse.

I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay.

You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here.

You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on.

The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves.

"Agent L/N, is everything okay?"

You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her.

It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug.

"Agent L/N?"

"Please," you say quietly.

"Agent L/N?"

"Detective, would you excuse us?"

His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?"

"She's not here."

“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble.

"I think you're overwhelmed."

"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away."

Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers.

"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.

You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other.

"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here."

"I didn't go."

"No. You haven't been at your best."

"I'm trying."

"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?"

You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder.

You think he might be the only thing keeping you here.

"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part."

He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?"

You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft.

"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.

"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me."

You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.

You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair.

"You're okay," he'd said.

You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now.

His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact.

"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder.

You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted.

"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”

He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen.

His hand falls to your trembling back.

"That was your only error. You did everything else right."

Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk.

—

You agree to take some more time off.

Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening.

This isn't a punishment. You need more time.

You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event.

A wound can't heal if it's being picked at.

"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin.

Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones."

"He's generous. He gets that from his dad."

"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?"

"Yeah, still here."

"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them."

You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips.

"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time."

He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him.

"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better."

"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand.

Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas.

Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction.

Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand.

"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly.

"You're well loved," Hotch adds.

That, too.

༺༻

again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡

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roosterforme · 8 months

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The Younger Kind Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is leaving soon, and everything is changing for you. As your graduation approaches, he takes some matters into his own hands. He wants to share everything with you, and sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Sunday night ended up being family night, and Bradley was hoping it could become a regular occurrence. The three of you went to see a movie, and Noah sat in the middle. Or at least he started out there. About halfway through, Bradley scooped Noah up onto his lap and slid over one seat, wanting to be closer to you.

So when the movie wrapped up and you had your fingers laced with his and your head resting on his shoulder, Bradley made it a point to say this should happen all the time.

You kissed Noah's cheek and then his before you stood. "But you'll be deployed soon, Daddy."

He eyed you up and down as he stood with Noah's arms wrapped around his neck. "Trust me. I know how much I'll be missing out on when I'm gone. The two of you will be eating homemade food and taking nature hikes."

"And coloring," Noah supplied.

"Can't forget about that," Bradley said, reaching for your hand. "Now let's get you home. One of you has daycare in the morning, and one of you has finals."

"I still wish you could come with me," you whispered, letting your cheek rest on his bicep on the way to the parking lot. "I'm sure I'd do much better if I got to sit on your lap and eat Skittles the whole time."

After Bradley buckled Noah into his carseat, he wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled your body to his. "No reason we can't keep having sexy Skittles time at home," he rasped. "There's something magical about you and me and the living room couch."

You whimpered as your hands came to rest on his chest. When you pressed your glossy lips together, Bradley wanted to take you right up against the Bronco again. But he knew everyone needed to call it an early night, which probably meant no sex.

So he opened your door for you and helped you inside and then drove home. When you and he were in bed for the night, he kept his hands in innocent enough places as you studied a few more things on your phone. He quizzed you on a few topics, and when you started yawning, he insisted it was time to go to sleep.

"You'll do great, Princess," he whispered, gathering you up in front of his big body and spooning you. "I love you."

"Love you, Daddy," you sighed softly as you fell asleep. Truth be told, he was less worried about your day than he was his, because he knew you'd do great. Meanwhile Bradley was going to have to run across town during lunch to meet with Tracy. He already had a case of Red Bull in the back of the Bronco that you insisted he should take to her. And he had to follow through with everything related to Meredith, which were some loose ends he was anxious to get tied up.

He usually slept great with your body tucked against his and his hand resting on your belly, but not tonight. Noah was old enough now that the deployments were going to get harder. And Bradley didn't know what he was going to do if you wouldn't move in with him. Or if you found a job outside of San Diego and moved away. You told him you applied to a world-renowned hospital in Arizona. What exactly was he supposed to do with that information? Demand that you stay here in California and continue to love the two of them forever?

His lips came to rest on your neck, and you whimpered in your sleep. This was the first time Bradley had ever felt this way. He supposed he'd loved Meredith. He'd been in love with another of his exes, too. But this was insane. And you were so young, Bradley could feel you holding back when he talked too much about the future. So he knew he was going to have to keep things exactly where they were for a few more months, at least until he got home.

He must have dozed off eventually, because he woke to you kissing his forehead and whispering, "I'm heading to campus. Good luck with Tracy."

"Wait," he grunted, sitting up and reaching for you. He tugged on your hand until you were sprawled across him in bed giggling softly. Bradley cupped your neck with one hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "You'll do great today, Baby. You're incredible."

With a kiss to the tip of his nose, you were running out of his bedroom, and Bradley decided to just get up for the day as well. And when he went into the kitchen, he found a full breakfast spread for him and Noah on the table. Fruit, bagels, jelly and muffins. And a little note for him to read to Noah saying you had to leave too early to say good morning, but that you'd be back in time for dinner.

"Fuck," Bradley groaned, holding the note in one hand and cradling his face in the other. He needed you here. They both did. It was startling that he could hardly remember what it was like before he met you.

"Daddy?" Noah called from the hallway, and then Bradley got started on the morning routine.

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

When Tracy's receptionist opened her office door for him, Bradley strolled in wearing his flight suit and carrying the case of cans of Red Bulls. Tracy looked up from her small conference table and started laughing.

"You're a client," she informed him. "I shouldn't accept gifts from clients."

He shook his head. "Not from me. From my girlfriend."

"Ah," she said, reaching out to take it from him. "Then I accept. Have a seat."

Then Bradley was presented with a huge folder of things to read and sign. Tracy went through all of it with him and answered what seemed like a hundred questions, and after an hour, he'd worked his way to the end. "So what does that all mean exactly?"

She ran a purple highlighter over his name on the last sheet and said, "Means you are Noah's sole legal guardian. The only one who has rights to anything related to custody. As soon as you pay me and I file the paperwork, that is."

Bradley was reaching for his checkbook right away, but Tracy held up a hand. "Not yet. You asked me to look into appointing a temporary guardian for Noah? And what it would take to get a protective order?"

"Three protective orders," Bradley clarified. "All against Meredith."

Tracy sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You want to appoint your girlfriend as a temporary guardian? While you're deployed?"

"Yes."

"No problem. We can fill that paperwork out right now."

Bradley's heart soared in his chest. But only until Tracy said, "However... getting protective orders against Meredith for all three of you is going to be a little bit tricky."

"How?" Bradley demanded. "She attacked my family when they were at a playground! I can't be around to watch them all the time."

She shook her head. "I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you. If you know you're leaving for deployment, you'll have to disclose that information to the clerk. And if you try to lie about it, then I won't be able to represent you any further."

"What does my deployment have to do with the fact that I know my girlfriend still thinks about slamming into the parking lot at Myers Park? I was picking asphalt out of her arm."

She shrugged like she knew he was right. "Exactly. But the only times you saw Meredith were when you invited her into your house and when she accidentally ran into you at the coffee shop."

"I doubt that was an accident," Bradley ground out through gritted teeth.

"Be that as it may," Tracy said, walking across the room for two water bottles, "when you combine that with the fact that you'll be out of the country, you may be denied."

Bradley sat quietly for a moment and sipped the water bottle he was given. "Well, can I file for the three of us anyway?"

"Sure. The filing fees will total around $1,300. And you can sign for Noah. She will have to sign and submit hers on her own behalf."

"Give me the papers," he said, and she stood to print them out. "And if you have the time, I'd like to ask you what exactly would be involved if I ever get married and decide I want someone to adopt Noah."

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

Bradley and Noah were already home when you got there, and you went running inside with your tote bag smacking your hip. "Bradley?" you shouted, sprinting into the kitchen and right into his arms. "I aced my anatomy exam," you whispered against his lips as you threw your arms around his neck.

He slipped his hands around your waist and held you as he kissed you. "I knew it," he said with a smile as you kissed him a little harder. Your fingers were in his hair and you were tasting his mouth with your body pressed again his hard chest and abs. And then you heard Noah scoot his chair across the floor, and he came over to investigate.

With a soft grunt, Bradley let go of you. Then you knelt down and kissed the top of Noah's head. But when you looked back up at Bradley, his eyes were needy as he planted his hands on his hips.

"I didn't even get to the best news yet," you told him as Noah hugged you. "I have two job interviews tomorrow. One in the morning and one in the afternoon."

Bradley pulled you to your feet, and Noah was sandwiched between you. "Where are the jobs?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

You licked your lips and smiled at him, but he looked apprehensive. "One is in a hospital and the other is private practice. I'm excited about both of them."

"Are they here?" he asked, his left hand gripping your waist a little tight. "In San Diego?"

"Yes," you replied. You turned down interviews with a few out of state jobs already. It was a no brainer at this point; you wouldn't be this happy anywhere else. "I want to stay in San Diego."

After that, Bradley didn't leave your side for the rest of the night. He helped you make dinner, he helped you get Noah ready for bed, and then he helped you get organized for both of your interviews. And he kept kissing you as often as he could. "You're clingy tonight, Daddy," you said as he pulled you onto his lap on the couch. "Not that I mind, really."

His hands were up inside your shirt, his big palms flat on your waist. "You scared me with that Arizona bullshit the other day."

You snorted and kissed his cheek. "I applied for that one after I thought you and Helen were hooking up."

"Shhh." He shushed you and then kissed your lips. "Don't say that. You belong right here."

You licked his lips and wiggled yourself against him. "Right here? With your dick poking at me?"

He was trying not to laugh. You could tell. You always got a good laugh out of him, and this time he chuckled before he ground himself up against you. "Yes, Princess. Right here on my dick."

He let you tilt his head back against the couch so you could take control of kissing him. It was sloppy and hot, and he had your shirt and bra off in no time. He used his big hands to slow down the rolling of your hips as he dipped his lips down to tease your breasts. He wasn't rushing anything, just gently sucking and releasing you with soft moans and grunts. But you were going to lose it. Your fingers were tugging on his hair, and you thought you might cum with your jeans on.

"You're so sensitive," he whispered, nibbling on the underside of your left breast. His tongue flicked over your nipple and you whined his name. "Gorgeous tits."

When you slipped down to the floor between his legs, intending to suck his dick here like that very first night, you only got your lips around his cock for a few seconds before he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and stopped you. "What are you doing? I want your daddy dick."

"Fuck," Bradley growled. "You're gonna get it." He eased you back onto the floor and stripped your jeans off you and pulled his own pants down to his knees. "I said you belong on my dick. You didn't disagree."

He kissed the valley between your breasts before rolling to your side. He looked cocky, laying next to the snag in the area rug with his arms folded behind his head. But he had every right to lay there with a smug expression, because his cock was huge, and he knew how to use it.

"I don't disagree," you whispered, straddling him and slipping him inside where he stretched you until you were gasping and grabbing at his shirt. With the fabric balled up in both fists, you leaned down to kiss him and whisper, "You're huge, Daddy."

"Mmm," he hummed, kissing you back but making no move to touch you. "Show me what you got, Baby."

You were clenching just from his words alone, and when you started riding him, you teased your own clit with your middle finger. He had you doing all the work to get yourself off. Not that it was difficult with his cock inside you and his handsome face to look at. When you squeezed your breasts, it looked like he was going to reach for you, but instead he just let himself relax and watch. It shouldn't have surprised you that you got off twice on him like this, moaning and jerking your body along. You were sweating and shaking after the second time you came, and Bradley eventually reached up and stroked his fingers along your neck again.

"Did you get enough?" he asked, and you nodded vigorously. "You ready for me to cum in that pussy?"

"God, yes," you moaned, and he brought his hands to your hips and guided you in a smooth rolling motion that would have been enough for you to finish again if you weren't so wrung out.

"I'll cum for you," he grunted. "Every fucking time." And then he was gritting his teeth, the veins in his neck and forehead so prominent against his skin. And he came with your raspy name on his lips.

You snuggled against his chest, thoroughly exhausted but honestly having the best day. He rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your head. "God, you're such a good girl," he whispered, and you let out the most embarrassing sound in response that just made him chuckle.

"I'm ready for bed," you informed him a minute later as you let his soft cock slip out of you.

When you met his eyes, he kissed you softly and said, "Can you do one thing for me first? In the kitchen?"

So you pulled your underwear and shirt back on and shuffled into the kitchen with his hand on your hip. He nodded at the table, and you sank down, exhausted, into one of the chairs.

"Would you mind filling this out?" he asked, handing you a pen and some paperwork. But you froze when you really looked at it.

"You want me to fill out a petition for an order of protection?" you asked, looking up at him. "Against Meredith? Did Tracy say this was a good idea?"

He kissed you so well, you decided to stop questioning everything. And when he said, "Yes, Princess. Please fill it out," he stood next to your chair as you started writing your name at the top. You filled everything out all the way to the bottom. You wrote a bit about Meredith at Myers Park which gave you chills. When you filled out your social security number, Bradley removed his hand from your back to type something up in his phone. But when you got to the end and saw that it would require over four hundred bucks to process this form, you pushed it aside.

"You know, I don't think this is actually necessary." You set the pen down on top of it and added, "I think the most important thing is that you and Noah have some sort of protection in place like-"

Bradley silenced you with a lingering kiss that trailed off into a dozen tiny kisses before he pulled his lips away from yours. "It's necessary. I need to know that I did everything I could to keep you and Noah protected, okay? And I'll pay for it."

But you didn't want him to. You should be able to do things like that for yourself. And you would! In a few weeks you'd hopefully have a steady income. Things would be different then. You could buy new clothes, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if your car died. But right now, paying to have this form processed would be a stretch beyond what you could afford. And you were about to tell Bradley no and rip it up, but he was holding his phone screen in front of your face.

"Pick a design," he said, placing the phone in your hand. "They have one with a princess crown I thought you might enjoy."

"What's this for?" you asked, completely puzzled while looking at the Mastercard website. "I don't need another credit card."

"I added you to my account," he said confidently. "Just pick a design so I can order your card and have it arrive before I deploy."

"What?" you gasped, handing the phone right back to him and standing up. "No, you don't have to do that. Don't add me."

"I already did, Baby. I just read your social security number off the form you filled out. Choosing a card design is the last step, and the page is going to time out in a minute. You want the one with the princess crown?"

"You shouldn't be paying for things for me," you protested. "I'll use my own credit card while you're away. I'll have a job!"

"No," he said, shaking his head and holding up his phone. "When I'm gone, you'll be one hundred percent responsible for Noah. I'm adding you as a temporary guardian for him. I'm paying for an order of protection for you. I'm paying for everything. You have thirty four seconds left to pick a card design, by the way."

You glanced at the screen and looked at the timer before meeting his eyes again. "I can use my own card, and you can pay me back later."

"Absolutely not. You're making my life easier. Just knowing that Noah is with you of all people serves a dual purpose. I know he'll be taken care of, and I know you won't be too lonely. Twelve seconds."

"But, Bradley-"

"Pick a card, or I'll leave Noah with Penny."

You glared at him and reached out to tap the purple credit card design with the gold crown on it.

"Now was that really so hard?" he asked with a satisfied smile.

"You're obnoxious." But you kissed his cheek, and then he followed you to the bathroom for a shower, reminding you that he put five hundred dollars cash behind the TV.

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

Your graduation was coming up on Friday night, and you'd been so busy all week, Bradley had barely seen you. You told him both of your interviews had gone well when you got home on Tuesday, but you hadn't shared much more beyond that. He got the sense that you were hoping for one or two job offers, but you didn't want to jinx anything. So he just asked you a few open ended questions as you snuggled on the couch with him.

Then you told him he and Noah would have to eat leftovers for dinner on Wednesday, because you were going out with some people you knew from school.

"Will Greyson be there?" he asked immediately, wrapping his hands around your waist. "Or those other fraternity idiots who deserve to feel my fists connect with their faces?"

You placed open mouthed kisses along his scarred neck in response before promising it was only a few girls going out together. "Just some ladies who will drool on themselves if I mention how sexy you are. But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Daddy."

"You want me to drop you off and pick you up? Just in case? And that way you can drink as much as you want?" He knew he sounded clingy. He felt fucking clingy. It must be the result of his upcoming deployment weighing so heavily on his mind, but he didn't really care. He wanted you with him all the damn time, and he wanted you to know it.

You responded by raking your fingers through his hair and sucking on his neck. "You're such a Daddy," you whined, dragging your lips along his skin and kissing his stubbled jaw. "You always want to take care of me, but I always want to take care of you."

And a minute later, you were sucking his dick like only you could. Soft, innocent eyes that just made him harder, and long lashes that brushed your cheeks when you gagged on him. After he came for you, he watched you swallow him down and then lay with your cheek on his bare thigh with your fingers softly brushing along his trimmed hair up to his abs.

"You take care of me," he whispered after a few silent beats, earning him a smirk as your lips grazed his soft cock. "And not just like that. You make my house feel warm. You adore my kid." As he ran his knuckles softly along your cheek, he watched your eyes flutter closed. "I've never loved someone like this before."

"You haven't?" you asked softly as your warm breath teased his thigh.

"No," he promised. "Nothing even close to this, Princess."

So when Wednesday night came, and you went out, Bradley put Noah to bed after he whined about how he missed you. Then he settled on the couch alone and put a movie on. When the movie ended, and you still weren't back, he thought about texting you. Had he misunderstood about you going back to your forgotten rental for the night or something? The idea made him uncomfortable. You didn't belong there any longer.

Bradley responded to some texts from Nat so his phone would already be in his hand if you tried to contact him. He was just deleting some old emails when he heard your car pull into the driveway, and then your key was in the door.

"Hi," you whispered, rushing inside and gently closing the door before heading his way in your pretty dress. You were smiling as you climbed right on top of him where he was stretched out on the couch.

"Hi," he replied before your lips met his. "Did you have fun?"

You grinned and braced your hands on the arm of the couch behind his head. "Yes, but I missed you. And I logged in to check my grades when they posted at six o'clock."

He let his hands rest on your back. "And? How did you do?"

"I had a 4.0 this semester, probably because you're the best study partner, Daddy."

He smiled up at you. "Or maybe you got perfect grades, because you're perfect. And Noah and I will be in the front row at your graduation on Friday. Can't wait to watch my perfect girlfriend in action."

"Are you really going to sit in the front row?" you asked with a kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah. I'll push my way up there. I'll knock over elderly people if I have to."

"Oh," you said with a snicker, "so you'll knock over people your own age for a better seat?"

Bradley smacked your ass while you laughed, and he hauled you to bed.

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

You wanted to tell Bradley your good news in person, but you didn't get a chance to see him before your commencement ceremony started. Where you were standing off to the side backstage, you could see the front row starting to fill up. When you saw someone's elderly grandmother hustling along with a walker, you had to bite back your laughter. Because a moment later, Bradley came rushing for one of the only remaining empty seats left up front with Noah in his arms.

As soon as they were settled in, you pulled out your phone and texted him.

Nice work. You didn't even have to trip that old lady to get a seat.

You watched him take his phone out of his pocket and smile as he entered his passcode. Then his shoulders shook with laughter as he eyed the woman and her walker where she sat right next to him. And then he started to look around the room, clearly trying to figure out where you were, but it was time for you to collect your diploma.

Bradley Bradshaw: Nothing is going to keep us from watching our Princess. Noah is very excited.

You were excited, too. For so many reasons. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to collect your diploma, you could hear Bradley's voice over the rest of the crowd in the auditorium. As you turned back toward your seat, you blew them a kiss. And you barely heard a word of the speeches, because you couldn't keep your eyes off them.

And then it was all over, and you were no longer a student. Anxious to get to them so you could get home and talk to Bradley, you nearly tripped over the old lady's walker yourself. "Careful," Bradley said, laughing harder than you thought was necessary as he caught you. "Or you'll be the one who needs a walker."

You ignored him and kissed Noah's chubby cheek as he hugged you around your neck. He tried to say congratulations a few times, but then he just went back to hugging you instead.

"I love you, sweet Noah. And I love you too, Daddy."

"Ready?" Bradley asked, taking Noah from your arms and leading the way out to the parking lot with his hand resting on your back.

You followed them in your car, and when you pulled into the driveway, Bradley was scooping Noah out of his carseat. "He's out," he muttered as you opened the front door for them.

You gasped. The house smelled like fresh flowers and something sweet. When you turned on the light, there were flowers everywhere. Noah had made a banner out of construction paper that was all taped together. And when you went into the kitchen, you found champagne, a stack of adult coloring books, and a small cake decorated with Skittles. It took Bradley a minute to get Noah in his bed, but when he strolled into the kitchen still wearing his sexy suit, you threw yourself at him.

"Let's open the champagne," he muttered next to your ear. "And then we can eat some Skittles cake. And you can take me to bed and do whatever you want with me."

You giggled as he backed you up to the counter. "I have more good news."

It wasn't lost on you the way Bradley's lips parted in silence before his eyes dipped down to your belly. "Do you?"

You nodded and bit your lip. Maybe what you had to say wasn't actually that exciting at all, but you blurted out, "I got two job offers."

"Princess!" Bradley gasped, gathering you up into his arms. "Of course you did, Baby. Everyone wants a piece of you." He set you down on the counter and kissed you about a thousand times. He told you he was proud of you. He told you he would help you make a decision by next week. And then he fed you some Skittles cake, but you insisted on splitting it with him 50/50.

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

Daddy will be gone soon. I have a lot of asks about dirty/sweet/loving/rough goodbye sex with Daddy and Princess. So stay tuned for that. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 29

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938 notes · View notes

psychicdamaged · 2 years

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Quotes from EXU Calamity I'll Be Thinking About for the Rest of Time

"Of course I'm safe. You'd never let anything happen to me." / "I would never let anything happen to you."

"Dad. You know I won't look like this when you get home."

There are a lot of stories in Exandria of mortals who stumbled their way into Feywild and fell in love with an enchanting fairy that they met there. But there's one story of a fairy who stumbled into this world and fell in love.

And in that instant realizes you can hold all the knowledge in the world. But if it dies with you, it doesn't matter.

"I promised you I'd never forget." / "I promised you I wouldn't either."

You hear in your heart, "Darling, no."

Do I know? Do I feel it? That he's gone? / You do.

Laerryn's screams fill whatever secret hallway she's in.

"No, baby. I'll always have my eye on you." And I squeeze their hands.

"I don't know how deeply you have sacrificed to do what must be done, but I know this: There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart... I bear your name. I bear it on this stone. And one day, I will bring you home."

In the kiss, I'll cast Cure Wounds on you.

"It's all on you, smart girl."

And I'll just turn my back on the door and let it close. / No! No, you have to go.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I love you, but I love another more" / "My child, my heart breaks. But I would rather mine break and yours be kept whole."

"But our two cities are like a married couple. We may have our differences. But we are connected by love for eternity. We made a promise to each other, and it's one we must fulfill."

"...and remember the Architect Arcane, Laerryn, the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Yes, it's me. Just look at my eyes. Don't look at anything else. Just look at my eyes, please."

I've kept so many of my thoughts and dreams and wishes for him. I hand it to him. I set it on the ground because I don't expect him to actually take it from my hands. "This is for you. Everything you've ever wanted to know about me and your father, it's here."

"Dad, dad, wait. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "You have nothing to be sorry about." / "I do." You see, you haven't even looked in his hands. He's holding a basket with a spell kite attached.

"I don't know why I didn't send it." / "I know why, and it's okay. It's okay. Elias, I love you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Everything that I wished for you to know about me, it's in this book. Take it with you. You'll always be five years old to me no matter how much you grow."

You know me. I would never have let my guard down like that. I took those blows.

As I go down, I make sure I don’t miss

"I know what you gave. You found a path beyond the stars. I do not know whence the gods came from, but I know that you found it in your heart. I promise you, Zerxus, I will find that place. I will find the secret of how these worlds were made, and I will come and find you and bring you home."

"Yes, brother. All will be well."

"You think we'll ever get there one day?" / "Of course we will. We're the Okiros."

When you think of the future and what people will say of this time, do you think anyone will talk about how beautiful your dream was? / No. But that's all right, because it was real for us. For those who survived, they will remember, and it will inspire them to dream of things far greater.

What are Patia's final thoughts? / Just that there are many more dreams to come.

"I've been able to become anyone I want my whole life, but I just want to be with you."

"And for whatever time we have left, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you." / "I love you, too." I'll just kiss her.

"The Brass Ring endures. I want you to know you gave us a chance." / I don't think you hear anything back. Just, you feel relief.

The fire, as brightly as it may burn, does not burn so brightly as your love, which shines the brightest in your last moment, having given this world a chance. Ash, heat, rising faster than you can imagine from the earth. And on a 31, at the very top of that cloud, the last member of the Brass Ring gets to keep his promise to his family.

You fly for weeks over oceans choked by ash and soot. You don't get to give your kids the world that they deserve, but you get to give them the world that they can fight for with you.

In Exandria, I don't know that your story will long be known. I don't know who will remain to tell it. But it did happen and it did matter. And though Calamity is here, because of you, it will not be here forever.

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shadowbriar · 3 months

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Sirius Black - Time in a Bottle

Pairing : Sirius Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.7k Warning : Happens during the war. Synopsis : Whatever storm they might need to weather in the future, knowing that marrying her would be the first thing they'd do once the sun comes back up, would forever be enough for Sirius to give the day another chance. Notes : Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Sirius Black's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @when-you-cant-think-of-anything

His occasional hums were the only sound breaking the silence of the cottage. Her cheek resting on the bare skin of his chest, legs entangled with each other, body covered only by the thin layer of bedsheets. If either of them could find a spell to freeze time in a bottle, this would certainly be the moment they'll capture.

"Humour me," Sirius says, his fingers now travels through the strands of her hair "If we managed to get out of this war, alive and unscathed, what would you do first?"

"If?" She lets out a breathy chuckle "That doesn't sound optimistic."

"Yes, well, I'm trying to be realistic."

"Realistic? Sirius Black being realistic?" She asks, looking up and raising an eyebrow at him "Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend, Stranger?"

The boy rolled his eyes, "Just answer the question."

"Let's see," She says with a long sigh, her smile never leaving her lips "The first thing I'd do when we win the war would be.."

Sirius waited. He stares into her eyes, trying to see if there's anything she secretly wishes yet couldn't find the words to utter. He watches as her brows furrow and relax. She's certainly trying to work the gears in her head to find an answer.

And then it dawned in him. Like an episode playing in the back of his mind, replaying all of his favourite moments with her and all the things he's loved about her. He could hear her voice when she first called his name back in second year. He could see her smile when he first won the Quidditch cup. He could feel the weight of her fingers around his when he first held her hand. All of them replaying and flooding his senses like a tidal wave.

The thumping in his chest quickens. He begins to wonder about all the future possibilities for the two of them. He wonders what kind of a house would they be moving into. He wonders what kind of dress would she wear on their wedding day. He wonders how many children they would have and if they would have his eye colour or hers.

"Marry me."

His question snaps them both, blinking as he tries to process how his mouth ran faster than his brain, just as always. Sirius could see the surprise on her face as the smile on her face dilutes into an uncertain one. His mouth feels dry all of a sudden. An unexplainable lump forming on his throat and he struggles to followup with any kind of explanation to his sudden outburst.

A hesitant smile tugs on the corner of her lips, "Marry you?"

"If you'd like." He says, voice filled with uncertainty "I mean, if you couldn't find anything to do first after the war, that could be a suggestion."

"Actually, I've thought of something."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," She nods, moving to now lay on top of him "I was thinking of going back to this cottage and redoing all the things we did tonight, as if we never left this place."

Sirius grins as he rests his hands on the sides of her waist, "That sounds nice."

"It is," She nods once again "But marrying you sounds a little bit better, I would say."

"Just a little bit?"

"Just a little bit," She coos, kissing the tip of his nose "This place is a bit hard to top, I am very fond of tonight."

"Me too," He smiles "So is that a yes then?"

She raised an eyebrow, "I didn't hear any question I should be saying a yes to."

Sirius' grin goes even wider that it practically hurts his cheeks but his heart was full. He's never felt any more loved than now and he sure would never want to risk losing this. Whatever storm they might need to weather in the future, knowing that marrying her would be the first thing they'd do once the sun comes back up, would forever be enough for Sirius to give the day another chance.

"My Darling, Sweetheart," he calls endearingly, tucking the few strands of her hair behind her ear "Would you marry me?"

#sirius black #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black scenario #sirius black scenarios #sirius black fluff #sirius black blurb #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x oc #sirius black x y/n

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 9 months

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Before You Go | MYG

Pairing: producer! best friend! yoongi x best friend! fem! reader

Summary: Life is taken for granted. People like to kill time not knowing it is time who is killing them. Love is not always a medicine, fate is always cruel. Or in which Yoongi realised his mistakes too late and was sentenced to live with an empty soul. There are times in which you can't always be there. He knew he was too late.

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst guys, medical terms, terminal sickness, argument, fainting, character death, more angst, feelings of guilt and desperation. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: Soooo, this was originally planned to be a drabble but it escalated so, hehe here it is! Also, I'm still working on the next part of Four Seasons. It'll be a long chapter so please bear with me.

Please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

"Three months at the most."

Said the doctor. You looked at him. No emotion marked your beautiful features. You blinked. A second passed. Then another and another. The world continued on its normal course while your sentence was already dictated. It almost seemed comical.

"There is, of course, a surgery we could perform on your brain. But I'm afraid it will only allow you to live for a year, year and a half if we are lucky. But it'd be dangerous. Even performing a biopsy is risky in your condition, Miss Lee."

You took a deep breath, your hand clutched your purse as it rested in your lap. The tickling of the clock was driving you insane, you wanted to leave your doctor's office, you wanted to run, to scream, to cry but your body was frozen in place.

A soft smile plastered on your face, the only reaction you could fathom at the moment.

"Thank you, Doctor Kim. I'll... I'll think about it."

He stood up, towering over you as he said with a nod. His hand extended to shake yours.

"Please, do so. Come in a few weeks if you start having headaches."

You nodded, shaking his hand as you also stood up.

"I will. Have a good day, Doctor Kim."

Your hand left his and you turned around to leave. Your feet carrying you out of the room that suddenly felt too small. You only wanted to go back to your flat and curl on your bed.

In a monotonous way you paid for the appointment at the reception of the hospital. Your eyes didn't focus on anything in particular while also noticing everything at the same time.

You walked slowly through the busy streets, the evening sun kissing your skin. The steps you took were automatic, you allowed your legs to take you home while in your mind there was only space for the doctor's words.

"Three months at the most."

That phrase repeated itself over and over again in your head. How you wished to just be home right now however, you decided to not take a cab, you wanted to enjoy the walk. Admire nature as you pass by the park and feel the sun in your skin.

Rarely did you ever pay attention to all those little things. Details that gave colour to your life. Details you were never able to forget. Not until it would happen and you'd leave this place. But you still had some time. Three months was too much.

Or that was what you thought.

~ 73 days later.

"You are hiding something from me!"

Yoongi exclaimed. Your heart clenched at the words coming out of your best friend's mouth. It hurt. It hurt to not tell him. For you to leave him in the dark. For him to think you weren't being honest with him.

You both had been friends for so long you couldn't count the days any longer.

"I'm not! Don't you trust me? We've been friends for so long, Yoongi!"

He sighed, wetting his lips as he tried to form words with his muddy thoughts swirling all over his head. He wasn't stupid. You'd been acting weird as of lately. You often gave him excuses of why you didn't want to leave your flat and when you both would go out he'd notice things.

He'd always notice when something was bothering you, when you were in pain, when too many thoughts were going on through your head. He knew you. Probably better than he knew himself.

All those little suspicions, the strange headaches you'd have only for later to vanish into thin air. The way you looked paler than usual, how you were overly tired.

He had noticed.

Yoongi would be a fool to not acknowledge the signs happening in front of his eyes. Yet his mind couldn't get a conclusion. Instead he was blinded by worry over you. Worry expressed as anger. As desperation. As frustration.

"It is you who is not trusting me, (y/n)! I know something's going on. And I will figure it out whether you like it or not."

"I do trust you."

Your voice sounded so hurt and small with those four words whispered out. Tears clouded your vision but you didn't fight back the moisture in your eyes. You kept looking at him in desperation.

Couldn't he just let it pass?

Apparently not. Yoongi was a stubborn man. If he wanted something, he got it. One way or another. But how would you tell him you were dying? How would you tell your best friend you didn't have much time to live? He had planned on taking you on vacation together after he had signed a good contract with a singer.

He promised to treat you to ice cream next Sunday. You promised that you'd be with him forever. You had been with him forever. In everything he had ever accomplished you had been there. You had been there to dry his tears and smile with him. to celebrate his victories and advise him during hard times.

You had always been there. Always by his side. Always in his life.

Did you have the right to take that away from him?

You were a coward. Yes. You knew that yourself. A part of you didn't want to acknowledge the fact that you were dying. And it hurt so much when Yoongi couldn't see further than his own assumptions. He didn't see you as someone he could trust anymore. He thought you were hiding something from him. Which, technically, you were.

Never in your life had you ever hidden something from him. That was why it hurt him so much when he realised there was something going on in your life that was taking a toll on you and he didn't know.

Yoongi ran a hand through his dark hair, his gaze softened slightly at the sound of your delicate voice. So vulnerable. So hurt. It wasn't like you to talk like that.

But despite his heart clenching at the sight of your tears, his next words cut you deeper than any knife could ever harm you. Not even the doctor's words three months ago had hurt as much as Yoongi's words.

"It doesn't seem like it. But if you don't want to tell me, fine. Take your secrets to your grave, I don't care."

Take your secrets to your grave.

If only he knew you were already standing above it. If only he had known those words had made your heart shatter in such a way you couldn't even fathom to say something, if only he knew there was more that met his sight.

If only he knew.

You didn't say anything. Silent tears were running down your cheeks. This was it. The tread you feared would ever break. He had broken it when you were already so sick, when your days were numbered. He had broken a friendship of years with a single sentence.

You were to blame too. If you hadn't been so scared, this argument would have never happened. This gap wouldn't exist. You are to blame too. You are at fault too. You ruined his trust, played with his emotions, wasted his time. All for what? So that you could keep a secret that would eventually come out?

But now it was too late.

Yoongi didn't want to hear anything else. You opened your mouth to say something. Anything at all. But the words died in your throat, shot down by his disappointed declaration instead.

"I'm leaving. I need some space to think."

Your hands trembled as they hung next to you limply. You were losing him. Yoongi, who was your closest friend, your best friend. The closest thing you ever had of a family. The man who owned your heart in more ways than he thought.

You lost him.

He wasn't going to intrude where he wasn't welcome. He wasn't going to push you. If you weren't going to trust him, there was no point in him staying in a place he no longer felt welcomed.

Yoongi turned around and left, not allowing you to say a single word. He wished you had stopped him. He wished you had walked over to him and grabbed his wrist, pleading him to listen. For you to tell him whatever was happening that made you hide it.

He wanted to know.

He needed to know.

Because his heart screamed a name he didn't want to recognise. His soul yearned for the touch of a woman he was yet to take into account. His mind was busy with thoughts of you. Memories of you. Plans with you.

But he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what he so deeply desired. Needed. So he left.

Yoongi left you to yourself, your front door shut and you were alone. Alone for good. Left behind. Abandoned. Everyone has a limit and Yoongi has gotten to that limit.

He said he needed space to think. Space to be on his own. Time to think if your friendship was worthy of keeping or if he had to let it go. Despite the pain his soul would suffer and the wrecked heart he'd have to endure.

Sometimes it's better to just let go.

But he didn't know what he was letting go. He didn't know anything. Yoongi left without answers and you stayed with a broken heart.

It's been a week since that argument. There had been no calls or texts from Yoongi. And you weren't going to get in contact first either. He wanted space, you'd give him that. He wanted time, you'd give him what you had left.

You sat in front of your desk, soft rain pattered over the glass. It was calming. Soothing in a way. A pen rested in your hand as words were being scribbled down on a sheet of paper addressed to him. To Yoongi.

You were giving him all the time you had for him to come back. But just in case you ran out of it, you wanted to explain everything to him. He deserved to know. You realised that now. He had deserved to know since the very beginning.

But you were scared. You had been selfish. You chose to live in a fantasy when reality clawed its way through you, tearing you apart in your little safe world that you wish would come true. But wishes never come true. There are no happy endings for liars. There is no mercy to change your fate.

You put the letter on an envelope with Yoongi's name written on the front. It was a letter only for his eyes to read and his mind to comprehend. It was for his mind to keep and his heart to treasure. Only for him. Always for him.

You stood up, the destination of your bedroom in mind as you were feeling tired. It wasn't unusual these days. The naps you took were getting longer and longer. You knew one day you might as well not wake up again.

But fate wasn't that merciful. You took a step, a single step forward only to have a piercing ache in your head that made you hiss. You shut your eyes, trying to get it to pass but it didn't work. If only it only got stronger with each passing second.

Your hands clasped at your scalp, fingers pulling your hair in a desperate need of relief.

The realisation hit you stronger than a train. You needed help. And you needed it fast. You stumbled towards the coffee table, the only goal in your mind was to get your phone and call for help. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You knew it. You felt it. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

With a shaking hang you reached for your phone, you didn't even bother to unlock it as you pressed the emergency call button. It rang and rang and rang, the pain continued to increase, your vision blurred.

You prayed to the skies that the person on the other line would answer. It was your only chance. The last straw to life you clawed at desperately. But it rang again and again and again and you couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was it.

Yoongi came back from the bathroom in his studio, he had been working on some new beats he wanted to try out in the near future. He had been keeping himself busy with work so as to not think about the fight he had with you a week ago.

A part of him wished you'd call him or text him but he knew you too well. If he had asked for space you were going to give him that. This was probably the worst fight you two had ever had throughout your years of friendship

He sat back down in front of the large computer screen, putting on his headphones. Yoongi continued with his work.

It wasn't until out of the corner of his eyes he saw the phone's screen lighten up. He didn't have to look at it to know someone was calling him. He sighed, taking the headphones off and saving the file with his music before he blindly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

But there was silence. No-one answered back and for a moment, Yoongi thought it was one of those scam calls he always blocked. But before he could hang up, his name reached his ear in your whispered voice.

"Yoongi..."

He knew something was wrong the moment the first syllable reached him. He frowned, leaning forward in his chair as he tried to listen to your voice.

"(y/n)? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The fight he had with you vanished from his thoughts as they were clouded with worry for you. He was getting scared, never in your life had you called him in such a state that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with nerves.

You whimpered, pressing the phone close to your ear. The pain in your head was getting stronger and stronger that you couldn't speak.

"(y/n)?"

Your best friend's voice came from the other side of the phone, if you hadn't been so blinded by the white pain pressing on your skull you would have noticed the concern in his deep voice.

"(y/n), you are scaring me, what's going on?"

Yoongi stood up from his chair, grabbing his car keys in a hurry.

"H-help me."

When you dialled your emergency contact you didn't remember you had saved Yoongi's number there.

Those two words were enough to have him bolting out of the door. The destination of your place carved in his mind as he left the building.

He kept his phone pressed to his ear as he ran through the studio. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it would leave his body. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The fact itself scared him, because that something had to do with you. He felt as if the building was larger than normal. Like in those nightmares as he tried to reach the exit but it got further and further away. This had to be a nightmare, right?

He heard your gasp through the phone unaware of the fact that you had fallen to your knees in your apartment, your other hand clutching your head in a vice grip.

"(y/n/n) talk to me. I need you to say something. Please."

Yoongi reached the door and pulled on the handle with more force than was needed. He stepped outside, inhaling the humid air as the soft drizzle tapped against his form.

"I'm sorry."

He yanked the car door open and got inside, one hand was on the steering wheel while the other still held his phone against the side of his face.

"It's alright, (y/n). I'm on my way, okay? Just hold on, I'll be there in a second."

But you didn't hear those words from him. There was a ringing in your ears that took hold of your senses, the phone slipped from your grasp as you fell to the ground over the soft carpet with a dry sound. You closed your eyes, allowing the pain to take you in its claws of darkness as you surrendered yourself to it.

You had been fighting for so long. A little nap wouldn't harm you. You slipped into unconsciousness with the last thought in your mind being: Yoongi.

The man who you were previously speaking to fell into a frenzy when he heard the sound of the phone colliding with your carpeted floor. The hand on the wheel tightened to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"Darling, answer me please! Say something."

But he could only hear your laboured breaths from the other line. He ended the call and threw his phone on the passenger's seat. A curse leaving his lips. If the circumstances had been different, he would have blushed when the nickname escaped his lips but he couldn't fight it in a moment like this. He couldn't help the fear, the anxiety, the stress, the guilt from controlling his mind.

From making him act the way he was. He pressed on the gas and accelerated into the street. Not caring if he got a ticket for the speed limit, not caring if he drenched the bypassers with his car, not caring for anything else other than getting to you.

Tears of desperation began forming in his dark eyes but he blinked them back. It was not the time to cry. Not now. Not when you needed him. Not when you were in danger. Not when you had called him to help you. Not when his heart yearned to have you, feel you, touch you.

Not now.

Yoongi arrived at your flat in record time. With his heart thumping in his chest and his hands trembling, he stepped out of the car. He didn't even bother to lock it behind him as he was already running up the stairs that led to your apartment.

He used his spare key, one he was immensely grateful you had given him. Not bothering to knock or to take his shoes off he barged into the place like a desperate man. He was a desperate man.

Desperate to see you fine, to find you healthy, for you to be alright.

But his world came crumbling down like a paper plane when he saw you laying over the grey carpet, your phone by your side. You weren't moving.

For a moment he couldn't move. The patterning of the rain against the window drowned him in an ocean of tears he was keeping inside his soul. The quietness of your flat wasn't normal, you were always humming to yourself, playing some music. Doing something.

But as he saw you laying there, limp and cold, Yoongi's heart shattered into a million pieces.

He was brought out of his trance by some miracle, he found himself at your side the next second. His hands wouldn't stop shaking as he pulled your shoulder to lay you flat against the floor.

"(y/n)?"

But you didn't react. It almost seemed as if you were sleeping. The rise and fall from your chest was the only indication to Yoongi that you had only fainted. The circumstances as to why were still unknown to him.

His hand cradled your cheek, trying to get a reaction out of you. Something. Anything at all. But you were long gone in the world of darkness.

In a mere second, he was able to recall your call with him. You sounded in pain. Hurt. There was something that had led to your current state. Something that needed medical attention.

His hands slipped under your body and he stood up; an arm beneath your shoulders and the other supporting the back of your knees. Yoongi walked towards his car in long and hurried steps. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His stomach churned with nerves.

If you hadn't called him, how much time would have passed until someone eventually found you? He couldn't think of that possibility. He decided to focus on the now, on the fact that he had you in his arms, that he had found you, that you were going to be okay. You had to be. For his sanity.

The soft rain wasn't enough to drench you or him as he made his way towards his parked car. With as much care as he could muster and with some tricky manoeuvre he managed to sit you in the passenger's seat and strap you to it.

Your head lulled to the side and his hand, once more, found home against the side of your face. In any other situation Yoongi would have thought that you were merely sleeping. To a point you were.

Have you always been this beautiful?

He thought to himself before he shook himself out of those thoughts and walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat and speeding off to the hospital.

One hand was on the steering wheel while the other one clasped yours tightly. It was a way to ground himself. To ground his thoughts and remember that you were there, that you'd be fine. That you were with him.

If someone had asked Yoongi before today when he had been the most patient he'd have answered when he had to download one of his large files.

But now, now as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital waiting for news about you was the time when his patience got tested.

How he wished to just enter into the room where the doctor was checking you. He needed to know what was going on. What had happened to you.

He needed to know that everything was going to be fine.

In his desperation, he called one of his friends, Hoseok and explained the situation with a lump forming at the back of his throat.

"She'll be fine, Yoongi. She's a tough girl. I'm sure it's nothing serious but I'll be there in thirty minutes in case you need anything."

That was what Hoseok had said over the line. He had met you on a few occasions, more than a few to be honest. The sweet man came to know that you were a beautiful woman with a kind heart and he respected too much the friendship Yoongi had with you.

"Is anyone here for Lee (y/n)?"

A doctor said with a clipboard in his hands. Yoongi immediately got up. His legs carrying him to the man dressed in a white coat, his eyes were red with unshed tears.

"I brought her here. Please, is she alright?"

The doctor let out a sigh that made alarm bells ring in his head.

"You better come with me."

Yoongi swallowed yet the lump in his throat only got bigger and bigger with each passing second, with each step he took behind the doctor. He stopped in front of a door, presumably your room before he spoke, his tone professional with a hint of sorrow for the broken man in front of him.

"(y/n)'s condition worsened too much in the last week. I'm surprised how quickly it deteriorated. The tumour in her brain got to the amygdala, that was what caused her immense pain resulting in her to lose consciousness."

The tumour in her brain...

...what?

"What... what do you mean with "the tumour in her brain"? She... Is she-"

So many thoughts were racing through his mind too quickly he began to feel nauseous. You were sick? All this time you had been sick? Is this what you had been hiding? The doctor sighed yet again as he spoke once more, his voice sombre this time.

"I believe she never told you."

Yoongi shook his head. Too in shock to utter a word. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. He'd bet that a stab wound would hurt less than this. The sole thought of losing you was heartbreaking enough but he couldn't help but feel like shit when the argument he had on your flat repeated itself in his mind over and over and over again.

Like a broken record player.

In a mocking manner.

With sadistic intentions.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Mr. Min."

A tear rolled down Yoongi's cheek slowly.

"Will she be alright?"

The world might as well end now because the younger man couldn't fathom the idea of existing. Not after the doctor's next words.

"I'm sorry. She was never a candidate for surgery, we detected the tumour too late. She isn't conscious right now but you might as well go in. I don't think she'd be able to hold on for much longer."

He hadn't expected that. He was supposed to be told you hadn't been taking your meals or you were dehydrated to the point in which you fainted. You weren't supposed to be dying. And what was worse was that he had never known.

For how long have you known of your condition?

Why did you hide it from him?

Why didn't you let him support you?

Yoongi entered your room without another word leaving his lip. He nearly collapsed at the sight of you. Pale and weak lying in a hospital bed. An IV tube was attached to your hand. Your eyes were closed.

He sat on the chair next to your bed. His trembling hands reached out for your smaller one. Why wouldn't his hands stop shaking?

"Why didn't you tell me, (y/n)?"

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only but they never reached you. You couldn't react to his stimuli even if you wanted to. your limp hand in his made tears cloud his vision and this time, he didn't hold them back.

"This was it, wasn't it? This was what you were hiding from me, right?"

He wished you'd just move, he wished you would open your eyes and gaze at him like all those times before. He wished he could hear your voice. At least one last time.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for shouting at you that day. Y-you didn't deserve that."

If he could turn back time he'd make everything different.

"Please, (y/n/n). Please open your eyes."

If only he had been more observant.

"You cannot leave me now. Not now. Not like this."

If only he hadn't been so selfish and distanced himself from you.

"I cannot live without you, (y/n)."

If only he had been there.

"Please."

If only he had been a better friend. The best friend you deserved. The best friend you needed.

"Please don't leave me."

If only he had said the words when you could hear them. If only he hadn't taken your time for granted.

"I beg you, darling. Please don't go. Please."

Hoseok ran through the halls, the number of the room you were at was engraved in his mind for he knew Yoongi was by your side. His hand grabbed the door handle and he twisted it.

What Hoseok saw after opening that door was never going to leave his memories. A sight for his eyes to never forget.

Yoongi was grasping your hand so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were red and puffy as tears leaked from his dark orbs, like endless rivers of absolute and utter pain. The sound of his sobs reached Hoseok's ears. A flat line in the background.

"S-she's... she's gone. She's g-gone, Hobi."

Hoseok could only watch in horror. Never in his life had he seen Min Yoongi look so broken. So empty. Never had he cried in such a way. The sight was painful enough that tears made their way to his own eyes.

Yoongi's sobs were like poisonous arrows dripping with the blood of his wounded heart. An irreparable wound. Shattered pieces of his very own soul.

Hoseok took slow steps toward his friend until he was able to rest a hand over his shoulder.

"She didn't suffer, Yoongi. You were by her side, you allowed her to go in peace."

But those words did little to console him. He couldn't stop thinking about the "what if's". He couldn't stop the blame to gnaw at his already broken heart.

"I-I never told her, Hobi. I was a coward and I... I never fucking told her."

Hoseok's heart clenched at the pain laced in his friend's words. His pale hand grabbed yours with more strength, if that was even possible. As if he could prevent you from leaving him when you were already gone.

"I never told her that I loved her!"

Hi Yoongs, I hope you are alright.

How's life going on for you?

If you are reading this letter it probably means I am no longer with you and I'm so sorry that I had to leave you behind but as you may already know, I had no choice.

This was what I had been hiding from you. I am sick. Terminal apparently. There's nothing to be done and I don't want any kind of painful treatment. I decided to let go and enjoy what I had of time.

Please don't blame yourself. I chose not to tell you so that I could experience my life as it was. Normally and by your side.

I may not be there physically but know that I live through your memories. Please don't give up on your dreams because of me and go and do all the things you talked to me about. Fulfil our wishes. Be happy.

I wish you the best.

Thank you for being my best friend. And it is probably the worst way of saying this but I want you to know that I love you. I love you in that way. As in more than a friend. You were the best person that ever crossed paths with me, I didn't want to ruin that friendship.

I now realise that was probably a mistake. I loved you deeply. With all my heart and being. That was why telling you about my condition was more painful than it should have been. Because just as your happiness is my happiness; your pain is also my pain.

I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to say things out of pity. I didn't want that. I wanted to leave in the most normal way I possibly could.

Please know that I love you and I wish you the best in life. I won't be your friend all your life, let alone your lover. I won't live that long. But I will treasure your friendship and love you all my life.

I am part of your life but you are my whole life.

~(y/n).

July/30/2023

~Masterlist

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are really appreciated!!!

**☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader angst #best friend yoongi #min yoongi x reader angst #love #bts fic #yoongi oneshot #bts #bts angst #bts suga #suga bts #min yoongi x you

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 2 months

Text

and we don't notice any time pass

Summary: another 2am meeting between R and Wanda where they talk for hours and lose track of time, catching up on everything that's happened in the thirteen years they were apart

Word Count: 2004 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: talking about Sokovia being blown up and dead parents. very briefly proofread Part 3 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

A/N: all ‘Sokovian’ phrases are just Google translated Serbian, translations will be in brackets after.

»»————-　★　————-««

“You're back,” Wanda beams, spotting you as soon as you round the corner. She's standing outside the gym; from her appearance, it seems she hasn't gone in yet, but her back is to the door and her attention is focused solely on you.

An odd feeling of relief washes over you, and it's only then that you realise how tense you had been until now, having spent your whole evening wondering if your 2 am meetings with Wanda would become a routine. Your stomach flips at the confirmation that, yes, she has come around again during your work hours, and she seems excited to see you. It's impossible not to mimic her smile.

“I am back,” you say at last, now standing in front of her, “though this is my job route, so I don't have much choice.”

Wanda's face falls at your words, and you suddenly wish you could backtrack and say something better. “Oh, right, of course,” Wanda mutters before you have a chance to fix your mistake, and now you're at a loss on what to say.

“You're back though!” is what you settle on, forced cheeriness added in an attempt to lift the atmosphere once more. It seems to work, because Wanda smiles again and nods.

“I am, I'd just… I'd rather come here than sleep at the moment.”

You nod in understanding, before Wanda asks, “how long are you working?”

“Next guard takes over at 7.”

“Do you have to walk around the whole building?”

“Just the West side, there are a couple others guarding the East side and the perimeter outside,” you answer, then grin, “why? are you trying to form a plan of attack or something?”

Wanda blushes at the accusation, stammering on her words as she rushes to defend herself. “No! I'm not, I promise! I, just- can I come around with you?”

You nod earnestly before you answer; seeing the hesitation in her eyes, you want to confirm she can before you make a joke of it. But when she smiles and shuffles closer to your side, you're in the clear. “So you just want to be a guard then, not just get past them, I see.”

She makes the mistake of rolling her eyes, which only inspires you to double down as the two of you start to walk away from the gym.

“No, it's okay, it's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. I know you did always look up to me as your elder when we were younger, these things don't change.”

“You're four months older, that doesn't earn you elder respect” she scoffs, before muttering “само те стари,” quietly under her breath, but you catch the insult in your mother tongue all the same. (It just makes you old.)

“деца ових дана, без поштовања.” (Kids these days, no respect.)

She looks up to you suddenly, with a raised eyebrow and open mouth.

“You think I would forget my own language?” you tease, causing her mouth to purse until it's practically a straight line and her brows to furrow in thought. “I was thirteen when I left, not three, I'm not going to forget it that easily.”

“I didn't think you'd have much opportunity to practise. Your aunt only spoke a little, yes?”

A strange warmth fills your chest at the information Wanda remembers; half of your lives have passed with the two of you separated, but she still remembers your main concern from when you left.

You nod. “She learnt a bit more when she took me in, just to help communicate. Do you remember what my English was like?”

“Yes,” Wanda laughs, “I always tried to teach you, you were awful.”

You laugh too at the memory, “I've come a long way since, but she definitely couldn't rely on me understanding English at the start.”

“I always wanted to go back,” you continue quietly, “I keep all my settings in Sokovian so I don't forget it.”

“Back home always felt weird without you.”

“You know, when I first moved here, my aunt would put the Sokovian news channels on for me. It was the only thing I'd watch and pay attention to, trying to see if you and- you and Pietro ever appeared; then I'd know you were safe.”

Wanda stalls at your confession; even with your head bowed, you feel her eyes turn to you, scanning your face quickly before she looks away, back to fiddling with her hands.

“Did you ever see us?” she says quietly. You shake your head. “What was it like? moving away?”

You shakily exhale, so Wanda gives you time to properly formulate your answer. “It was tough,” is what you finally say. “Obviously my aunt took me after my parents…”

“Yeah.”

“She took me back straight after burying them, so I couldn't visit or anything. I didn't have them, I didn't have you, and I barely knew my aunt then. I was somewhere completely new and it felt like it was just me.”

“It's a big adjustment,” Wanda says, and you know she's talking first-hand. For you, the move was 13 years ago, you've adjusted, moved on, and mostly forgotten how tricky it was. But for Wanda, it's only been a month since she left her home country behind. You nod again in understanding and start to walk a little bit closer to your old friend.

“They have different priorities here, right?”

“Yes! There's so much just… just…”

“Everything?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, dropping her hands from mid air to her sides now her point is made.

You laugh, remembering your own reaction to the culture change. “Have the others taken you to Target yet?”

Wanda frowns and shakes her head, “I don't know what that is. Oh, but they took me to IKEA!”

“Bit different to the Sokovian street markets, huh?”

“I've never seen anything so big, and so much stuff all in one place?”

“It still feels massive to me, even now. Oh but you should have seen the old SHIELD headquarters! This place doesn't even come close, it was gigantic! Put all those ammunition facilities back home to shame.”

“You worked for SHIELD?”

“Mhm, then I moved here when it was destroyed.”

“What happened to it?”

“Turns out HYDRA had been running it. Black Widow and Captain America, and, uh, your new teammate? The Falcon? They dropped a helicarrier on the HQ and made all the misdeeds public. It's a bit hard for any organisation to come back from that.”

Wanda is quiet, but she doesn't take her eyes off of you, so eventually you turn and smile at her focused expression, “What is it?” you prompt.

��Nothing! I just didn't think you'd move over here and start working for the American government, as a spy . Pietro and I, we used to imagine what you were doing after you left; I thought you would be a librarian or something, something calm away from the war. Pietro said you would be a teacher. He said you would want to help people.”

“Then I hate to break it to you, Wands, but Pietro knew me better,” you laugh, “I wanted to help people at SHIELD, go back to Sokovia and rebuild it to what they told us it was like before the war. They even paid for me to get a diplomacy degree if I trained at the Academy at the same time, so it seemed like a no brainer.”

“‘Course, I didn't realise it was my co-workers dropping the bombs and keeping the war going. They kept that hidden from me,” you add quietly. SHIELD had been the best option for you, and really the only opportunity you had to pursue the path you wanted, but that didn't make up for the shame you had felt when all the information had been revealed. Admitting it to Wanda especially, who'd held anger against the Americans and their weapons since you were children, causes the embarrassment and guilt to resurface.

She doesn't yell at you though, as you had expected, or berate you for betraying your roots. She just nods, sighs, and pauses just as she's about to speak. You wait for her to say what she has to say.

“I guess they got us both.” You raise an eyebrow in her direction, and she continues to explain, “HYDRA… they didn’t hide behind SHIELD in Sokovia, they approached us directly, promised we could help Sokovia if we joined them and volunteered for experiments. It seemed like the most promising way to make change, so Pietro and I; we signed up, they experimented on us. Then, well… you know what HYDRA are actually like. So now I’m here, and I have this-” she lifts her hand up and a soft red glow emanates from her palm, dancing around her fingertips. “We all wanted what’s best for Sokovia, right? Didn’t turn out so well though.”

“No, not quite,” you mumble. Your gaze doesn’t stray from Wanda’s downcast face, but your mind is practically fighting a war of its own on what your next action should be; as much as you want to comfort her, after 13 years apart the action no longer feels so instinctive. Do you hug her? Offer a shoulder to cry on? A pat on the back? You just don’t know anymore.

You’re about to risk it, raising an arm and hovering it just over her shoulder – that way, you can offer some comfort and pull her closer if she accepts it – when another voice calls your name. You startle and drop your arm back to your side, then look up to see your co-worker, the one assigned to the shift after yours, approaching with a smile. Wanda’s head jolts up too, looking between the two of you and taking a step to the side as he gets nearer; she pulls her sleeves over her hands before fidgeting with her rings – a nervous action that hasn’t changed in all the time you’ve known her. Once again, you find your gaze lingering on her rings, smiling slightly to yourself when her fingers instantly move to twist one particular ring – it had always been her favourite; even in the years where you wore it on your own hand, she had always reached for it when stressed, pulling your hand into her lap just to twist at the ring. The day before you left, when she’d repeated the action, you’d taken it off and slidden it onto her thumb yourself, as a keepsake to remember you by. It’s on her pinkie now, her fingers grown from the size they had been at thirteen, but your heart tugs to know she still has it.

Approaching footsteps pull you out of your thoughts again, and you quickly check your watch, your eyes widening when it reads 7am, signalling the end of your shift. You’re aware you were talking with Wanda for a while, but 5 hours? When you look back over to the woman, you start to notice the signs of exhaustion on her face and in her posture, striking you with guilt for unintentionally keeping her awake this long.

After exchanging some words with your replacement and reporting on the (lack of) events in the night, you pull Wanda aside with a smile, just to practically order her off to bed to catch up on her sleep.

She doesn’t argue, instead nodding tiredly and smiling back at you, “Will I see you tomorrow though? Same place, same time?”

“I'll be there,” you promise, watching her disappear before you even think of heading off to your own room. There's a giddy feeling in your chest and, for once, you don't overthink the interaction.

You'd missed the genuine conversations, the ones that made you smile until your cheeks hurt. There had been the occasional one at SHIELD, but they were constant with Wanda – back in Sokovia and, it seems, in the present day too. You go to bed smiling, already looking forward to the next 2 am.

next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon

A/N: thanks for everyone who has supported this and left nice comments so far! Hope you enjoyed this part :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

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yoyokslut · 9 months

Text

Better man. (Sequel of you're losing me)

Pedri x reader.

Word count: 3444 words.

a/n: I know this took forever but I didn't have the inspiration to write it but one night I was listening to better man and everything clicked. Hope you like it :)

12 am and you were still awake... Again, this was the third night in a row. Since what happened at Pedri's was haunting you and replaying in your head over and over again you couldn't fall asleep. It's been 3 months since then and forgetting about it wasn't as easy as you thought.

You couldn't fool yourself, you missed him more than you'd like to admit. You missed going on late night drives around the city, movie nights, making dinner together, laughing about how bad his jokes were and him teasing you because either way they made you laugh, just feeling him being part of your life... Part of you.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night

I can feel you again

He's been texting and calling you but you knew the moment you accept a call or text you'd fall for him like the very first time and you knew you couldn't let that happen, it wasn't fair for you so ignoring him was the best option for now.

Lately you've been going to one of you favourite cafe every afternoon where across of it was a small park with beautiful flowers and near there a beautiful lake, the cafe was a comfort place because there were stunning sunsets and it was always nice to see the kids playing around the park and people having fun in the lake.

So today you decided to buy a coffee and go sit on the dock with your headphones on.

It passed a couple of minutes before you felt someone touching your shoulder, so you took off your headphones, turned around and saw him.

Your body tensed right away it's been long since you saw him.

"Hi," he said a little bit nervous.

"Hi,"

"I've been trying to call you and text you but you weren't picking up,"

"We don't have nothing to talk about anyway," you said trying to walk away from him.

"Please don't go," he grabbed your arm gently "I'm tired of missing you, please let me come back to you, I miss you with my life, preciosa,"

Preciosa there he was again trying to be sweet and calling you nicknames that he knew they made things to you, thinking that was enough and you hate how you and your body reacted to them.

But I just miss you

And I just wish you were a better man

"Oh so you think I wasn't tired every time you pushed me away and made me a second option or sometimes not even an option?" you stared at him frowning "You thought I was very joyful just waiting for you all the time just for you not even notice my presence? You should be the last one to say you are 'tired', Pedri,"

And I gave to you my best

And we both know you can't say that

He swallowed thick, he knew you were right and you deserved so much better than how he treated you.

"I am so sorry, I know I was a jerk and you deserve somebody so much better than me but I can't live without you, I can't sleep if you're not with me, you are my little ray of sunshine in my life, but please give me one more chance, I'd do anything for you, anything you asked me I'll do it, I promise,"

"We both know you're not good at making promises, Pedri, don't promise something we know you can't keep,"

We might still be in love

If you were a better man

"So please stop breaking my heart and stop following me," you said starting to walk.

"I didn't follow you," you looked at him like saying how did you find me then? "Kinda," he blushed.

"I went to every place we used to go when we were together and spend all day there in each of them hoping I'd find you," he looked away from you and your gaze soften at his confession.

This was the sweetest thing anyone has ever made for you.

You sighed for what you were about to tell him and about how vulnerable you were gonna be for him.

"I-i miss you and I still l-love you," you looked at his eyes.

"But I'm scared, what of it doesn't work out? What if we don't work out? I don't want us to get hurt again, I wouldn't be able to take it," a small tear escaped through your cheek.

"I'll do my best every day to remind you how important you are for me, and cherish you for every day I didn't back then. I'm sorry it took me this way to realize how valuable you are, I'll work in myself so I can be the man you deserve and so I can be worthy of you," he said grabbing your face and stroking your cheeks.

"And if you need more time to think about giving us another chance, I'll wait as long as you need,"

"I'm gonna need it," you said.

"My time is all yours,"

Surprise? I guess 🤭

@ironmaiden1313 @http-isabela @gulphulp @sandiaaaaaaa7 @iloveenglishmen

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x female reader #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer #pg8 #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri angst #pedri fluff #pedri fanfic

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Note

for the angtsy prompt list — i feel like i’m gonna regret this but #1 and either az or rhys 😭😭😭 preemptively crying bc i know it’s gonna hurt

I picked Rhys 👀 and it... it's gonna hurt, and I'm sorry 😭

Rhysand x reader romance angst drabble from this prompt list

Warnings - mentions of death

Star flecked eyes stared at you in shock and silence. "Tamlin?" You bit your lip, tears beginning to line your eyes as you nodded. Rhys chuckled, leaning back and sipping his drink. "Good one, y/n."

"Rhys, I'm not kidding. He's my mate. The bond snapped at the High Lord's meeting." Rhys sat a little straighter, eyes narrowing as he looked you over. Anger flashed. Followed by remorse, by pain. "This is fucking rich." You jumped as he slammed the drink down. "What are you going to do?"

You had not thought that far. It was too new, too fresh. "I… I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I'm shocked."

Rhysand's jaw dropped, he looked at you shocked and stunned. "What do you mean you don't know? Do you not remember what he did to me? To our family?"

You remembered vividly. You remembered holding Rhysand as he screamed when they opened those boxes. You remembered holding him after they found the bodies. You remembered vividly. "He took my fucking mother and sister and now he's taking my wife too. This is fucking rich."

You two sat there in silence. Your mind was searching for a way to comfort him. "Tell me how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do."

You shook your head. "We promised to never lie to each other if it happened to either of us, Rhysand."

Rhys stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the night sky as if those stars would have all the answers. "Tell me it was a lie. Tell me you're playing with me right now. Tell me the bond didn't snap."

You watched his throat flex. Eyes beginning to water. "The twins are packing your things. Annulment papers will arrive in Spring when I have them drawn. Azriel will fly you there."

You nodded, standing and closing your eyes to hide tears. You opened them and turned to walk out. "For what it's worth, Rhys. I wish it was you, I'll always wish it was you. I love you."

His tears fell freely, his hand clenching that glass so tightly he was about to shatter it. "I know. I wish it was me too, y/n. I love you too. Let… let me know if you reject it. If you ever want to come home and come back to me."

You'd never have time to tell him you rejected the bond as you were dragged in front of Amarantha, powerless and naked from the previous beating and torture she had administered as your friends from every court watched in silence.

You and Rhys held eye contact. One last silent I love you passing between you two mentally as you then turned to the false queen in defiance. "Would you like to repeat your prophecy one more time, little seer?" She mocked you with fake interest, having refused to believe your words of warning.

You said it one more time, passing hope to every trapped High Lord and fae who knew your prophecies were set in stone and true as wind. "Never to wed, never to breed, you'll rule briefly in selfishness and greed. Never see the break of day. A false queen's body will lay here to rot and decay. She'll sit on a throne, time passing like air, until her end is brought by one more fair."

Her face fell. "Rhysand, shatter her." The room fell into silence. His eyes wide as the mask fell. "Now, pet."

You two held eye contact again. You nodded at him. She's coming, Rhysand, and she will bring you everything you've wanted. One request?

Anything, his voice broke in your mind.

Never forget I love you.

And I love you. I'm so sorry.

"There's no other hands, I'd rather die at than yours, Rhysand. Do it."

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #writing prompts #angst

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bubba-draws · 4 months

Note

Ok I'll bite; in the Radi Vessel AU, what would Hollow's relationship with Ghost be? Would they be hostile toward them, welcoming as long as they don't try and stop them, or protective toward them to try and make up for the past? Heck, I could even see in that case Radi!Hollow trying to keep Ghost at their side at all times and learning to gaslight them into staying with them?

OK SO It took me a bit to answer this because to me the relationship between Ghost and Hollow is very unusual, especially bc of personal Headcanons I have about them

To me Ghost and Hollow were somewhat closer the moment both of them hatched in the Abyss, maybe not 100% attached to each other, but they still did care about the other, up until Hollow was picked by PK and they just decided to go with him, not thinking too much about their decision at that moment bc, well, you cannot expect a kid to take good decisions HAKDHAJD

I don't think Ghost felt betrayed? Just very confused as to why their sibling isn't there anymore? and lonely because there was barely any living vessel down there and the ones that lived didn't want anything to do with them (kinda like when u take a puppy from their litter and it misses their presence)

After they escaped the Abyss and went out of Hallownest, Ghost would eventually forget about Hollow (because bugs that leave Hallownest lose their memories), in the other hand though, Hollow does remember Ghost, and as they grew older they would always wonder happened to them (They were definitely dead, right? Just like the rest of their siblings down there, right?) But as the Hollow Knight they forbid themselves to think too much about it and then as the Radiance Vessel there was no point on wondering, even if they left the Abyss to exist, they could no longer go there, for their light was dangerous to the void and vice versa, if they were dead finding their mask was hopeless, if they were alive they would def try and attack them or hide from them

In the game Ghost comes back to Hallownest bc of Hollow no longer being able to hold on the Radiance, their scream (or rather Radi's scream, though I'd like to think part of the call came from them as well, even if they don't really have a voice?? It's weird ahskshdjd bc to me rather than following the call of the Radiance it was the vessels trying to find the sibling that called bc they're in lot of pain) calling the vessels towards them, if we go by this au, it would be because Ghost would accidentally stumble back into Hallownest, no call to answer, just coming to a kingdom that is far too eerie

At this point I am not sure how they reach their meeting, but I know it's not gonna be a pleasant one. It would take time for Hollow to recognize Ghost, but by the time they do they wouldn't just accept them with open arms, mostly bc I think at this point Ghost tried to pull an Ultrakill in the kingdom AJDJAKFBSKJG so it's a bunch of mixed feelings

But when the anger of their reunion dies down I think the guilt Hollow felt back then would crawl back, the thoughts they stopped from forming many times finally appear and the grief they were trying to ignore comes in waves, bc hey, the sibling they missed was alive all along! But they don't seem to remember them at all and is 100% down to throw fists

So, to summarize: First there's hostility, then guilt and sadness, then annoyance at Ghost's attempts to fight Hollow but also protectiveness because despite everything, Hollow wants to give Ghost the life Hollow wish they could've had (plus if somehow they make Ghost not wanting to attack anything Radi related then maybe they can use that as a case so Radi can let Hollow search for any other sibling that may stay still alive)

All of that could happen if Hornet does not intercede Ghost before they go bonkers in Hallownest HAKDHSJD

Hopefully this answered ur question! If u got any more or any ideas you'd like to share I'm open to hear them :3

#bubba speaks #radiance vessel au #hollow knight #hollow knight au

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writeandsurvive · 6 months

Text

Well, @mandy426, you asked for it, so here you go. Hope you'll enjoy it! 🫣 Inspired by the picture below (because how could we not?)

Summary: Alden comes home one night in his undercover outfit

Warnings: nsfw, established relationship, wall sex, piv, unprotected sex, undercover!Alden, biker!Alden, kinky reader ig?,

Undercover ~ Alden Parker

Alden was very clear from the beginning; his job takes a lot but doesn't give much. You were okay with that as you'd have dealt with whatever, just to be with this man. You did underestimate how bad it could be though. The long hours, the physical and emotional exhaustion he deals with, the missions away from home, and more. There were definitely hard times, where you wish Alden had a boring 9 to 5 job, but you immediately felt guilty thinking this. He obviously loves being a federal agent, and you do admire him for it.

The worst was kissing him goodbye in the morning and not knowing if you'd see him again. But there's nothing you wouldn't do for this man, so you learned to deal with this fear and anxiety and make the best of the time you have with him.

Eventually, something new came up; Alden was going undercover. He didn't say much about it, just that he probably won't be home much, and if somehow you run into each other in town, pretend that you don't know him, unless he comes over to you. Honestly, you hoped this wouldn't happen.

He's been undercover for two weeks and you had barely seen or heard of him. It was hard, but luckily, his best friends Tobias and Jeremy have been giving you updates on Alden, they kept checking on you, spending evenings with you. Plus, you have a supportive family who's always there for you.

When you heard the sound of keys opening the door, you actually got scared for a second, forgetting that your partner had the keys and could come home whenever he could. You stood up from the couch to meet him at the door, but you stopped as soon as your eyes laid on him. It didn't look like your Alden at all.

"Honey, hey!" He rushed over to you and hugged you tight. "I can't stay long, but I'm missing you so bad."

You hugged him back, still quite puzzled. Your nose was buried in a leather jacket you've never seen before. Alden let go just enough to kiss you. "Are you alright?" He asked, stroking your cheeks and looking at you from head to toes. "Baby?"

"Are you undercover as a biker or a hipster?" You looked more at the leather jacket, the black hoodie under, the beanie on his head, the full beard - he only had the mustache since you met - the boots. You've never seen Alden dressed like this before, and you never imagined he would. But damn, did he look even hotter.

"Oh, yeah, um. Biker, actually. I know it doesn't look like me."

"Are you riding a bike?"

"Isn't what bikers do?" He chuckled. "Plus, I had my biker phase in my early twenties, so I'm not entirely new to this."

"Y-you did? How come you never told me? Or shown me pictures?" You exclaimed, sounding like you were upset.

He laughed a bit more, "I don't know, it never came up. My fam hated it."

"I don't care about your family! I wanted to know!"

Alden got closer to you again, putting a strand of hair behind your hair and softly brushing your skin that was turning pink. "Is this look turning you on, baby?" He whispered in a husky voice. He was smirking, clearly aware of the effect this was having on you. You were blushing even more and you swallowed thickly.

"Maybe." You whispered back.

Then he grinned as his hands traveled south, roaming over your breasts. He leaned over, pressing his forehead against yours. "Not necessarily what I had in mind, as I just needed to see you, but I'd be damned to deny you."

You were the one who reached for the heated kiss. His beard was probably hurting your skin but you couldn't care less. You stroked it before enjoying feeling the leather under your fingers. Alden made you walk backwards until you were pinned against the wall. His lips and tongue found that sweet spot in your neck, earning a loud moan from you. You wrapped a leg around him, his hands traveling under your - his - shirt to find you braless. He growled and played with your tits, still ravaging your neck, jaw and lips.

"Alden, I need you." You whimpered, rubbing yourself against the bulge in his jeans.

"I suppose I should keep the clothes on?" He chuckled, freeing his cock and giving it a few pumps.

"You better."

Alden got rid of your night shorts, and took advantage of dropping on his knees to kiss your intimate parts and gave a few licks on your clit. His beanie flew to the ground as you held onto his hair. The beard was giving more sensation than just the mustache.

"You taste so delicious." He got back to his feet, and held one of your legs up. "Ready for me, babygirl?"

"Yes, always! Fuck me, please!"

He didn't need to be asked twice and found the perfect angle to slip his length inside you. Both crying out, like you hadn't had sex in months. Alden gave you time to adjust before pumping in and out of you. "Fuck baby, you're taking me so good."

It wasn't romantic nor sweet, but rather rough and animalistic. You were trapped between his strong body and the wall, and loved every second of it. It wasn't long until you were cumming, shouting his name over and over again, holding onto his hair and the leather jacket. It was all he needed to cum deep inside you.

Feeling that his legs were pretty weak, Alden gently put you down and you felt his cum going down your inner thighs. "I need to sit," he said, taking the jacket off. You needed to sit too and luckily the couch wasn't far away. You grabbed your shorts and put them back on, not caring about the mess on you. "I'm an old man, you can't do this to me." He laughed, still trying to catch his breath.

"You can't do this to me!" You exclaimed, straddling his lap. "I hope there are no women around you."

"Don't worry about that." He reached for a meaningful kiss. "You're the only woman for me."

#ncis #alden parker #alden parker fanfic #alden parker imagine #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine #alden parker x reader #alden parker smut

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modelbus · 1 year

Note

did you ever plan on making a part two to your accidental confessions fic with wilbur? would love to read more!! <3

Your wish is my command <3

Check out Part 1!!

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Friends to Lovers - Accidental Confession Part 2

“I have the worst headache.” Wilbur groans, rubbing his temples while collapsing into the chair next to you.

You poke at the cheap hotel breakfast, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering around in your stomach. Last night was fresh in your mind, occupying every bit of thinking space. Wilbur’s dopey grin, his words. The only question was if he remembered it. If he truly meant it all.

From across the table, Ash raises his eyebrows at you. You nudge his foot with yours, a silent threat. If Ash brings it up, you will ensure his suitcase "accidentally" gets left behind.

“Don’t drink so much wine next time.” You suggest, dropping your fork onto the plate. Your plastic fork, might you add. The hotel didn't even offer metal utensils.

“God. I don’t even want to perform.”

“That’s why our concert is tomorrow.” Mark chimes in. “Because we all knew you’d hate having it today.”

“You are a fucking genius, Mark.” Wilbur slumps further down into his chair, and you stand. Joe doesn't even look up from the plate of food he's absolutely devouring.

“I have to grab my wallet. Anyone else need stuff?”

Silently, you pray they let you go alone. Really, you only think you could face Mark or Joe right now. Even though Wilbur was the one you were trying to avoid, Ash definitely knew something was up between the two of you. And that was assuming Wilbur didn't run his drunk mouth last night.

“I’ll come with you.” Wilbur quickly says, also getting up. “To grab Ash’s camera.”

A rush of nerves fills you, but you shrug. He hasn’t said anything about last night yet, so what are the chances he’ll say something now? Or at least that's what you're telling yourself.

The two of you walk down the halls in complete silence. You attempt to focus on anything but his presence beside you. The blue carpet, the beige walls. You’re suddenly really fucking glad your rooms are on the first floor. An elevator ride might've killed you. You couldn’t just forget what he said, not when you so desperately wanted it to be true.

“I’ll grab my wallet while you grab the camera?” You suggest, unlocking your door with a swipe of your keycard.

Wilbur follows you into your room though, not going along with your plan. “We aren’t in a rush. Are we?”

“Maybe.” You grab your wallet off the bedside table, turning to see him lingering by the doorway when you make to walk out. “Time-wise it made more sense, but if you want to be slow-“

He reaches out and loosely grabs your wrist, making your words die in your throat and your legs stop moving. It's the contact, more than anything else. The feeling of his warm hand touching your skin makes your heart pound wildly.

“Calm down, okay? I can tell you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous." You boldly lie, barely able to look him in the eyes for a second.

"I'd like to think I know you well enough to know when you're lying." He scoffs. "If this is about last night-"

"It's not. About last night, that is." You cut him off.

His hand falls away from your wrist, but neither of you moves from that too-small doorway. Part of you mourns the loss of contact, while the other part is just trying to calm your heart before you go into cardiac arrest.

This is a challenge, one you can't back down from without losing. You're more afraid of what he's going to say next than anything that happened last night. Will he drop it? Unlikely, Wilbur also never backed down. What will he say?

"No?" He asks, and you pick up on the glimmer of amusement in his tone.

"No."

"So you aren't interested in if my feelings changed at all from last night then?"

Your eyes are drawn to him in surprise, only to see him grinning at you. Shit. You've played directly into his trap. This is why you don't play chess with him anymore.

But you'd be lying again if you told him no. Every bit of you was itching to know if he really meant it last night, to the point that you could jump out of your own skin. Every bit of you was hoping to hear things hadn't changed.

"Have they?" You speak so quietly that he has to lean in close to you. Or maybe he's just leaning in because he wants to.

You can't look away now, not from him. For a second the entire world seems to hang in its balance around the two of you.

"Lets check."

His lips crash onto yours, and he's suddenly kissing you. It hardly takes you a second to register what's going on and kiss him back. Wilbur braces an arm on the doorway behind you, and the two of you pull apart.

"Have an answer yet?" You ask.

"I think I need another kiss to tell. What do you think?"

"Yeah, I think that would help."

This time, when both of you manage to pull away, he steps out of the doorway. You follow after him without hesitation, letting the hotel door shut behind you with a soft click.

"Yeah." He nods.

"Yeah?" You echo, confused.

"Yeah, my feelings have changed." Your heart drops. His feelings have changed? After you fucking kissed? Twice?

"I definitely like you more than I did last night." He grins, and you hit his chest.

"Asshole!"

Wilbur laughs loudly, and you find yourself grinning with him.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur imagine #wilbur #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt #wilbur dsmp #dsmp

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persephonememes · 8 months

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* ( THE GOOD WITCH BY MAISIE PETERS / SENTENCE PROMPTS

" it's still me here "

" did you think i forgot about you? "

" i'm still upset "

" it's armageddon "

" i'm still a good witch with her tea "

" all i do is think about the past "

" i still argue like my mother and suppress stuff like my dad "

" i still miss you "

" i still miss you but i know now it will pass "

" i will try forgiveness, but i will not forget "

" was it a love affair? "

" i couldn't escape you "

" if it was a first kiss how come it felt like a snakebite? "

" i wish i would've seen it sooner "

" why did it take me ages to say it? "

" i'll leave you behind but that don't mean it's easy "

" nobody actually happy and healthy has ever felt so desperate to prove it "

" i feel like all of my exes have done that "

" it felt like a face slap "

" it keeps hurting "

" you're still there "

" you look better "

" what the fuck? "

" you still get to me "

" you got every single thing you want "

" you are pretentious "

" i gotta get my act together "

" i know that i should know better "

" i don't think i wanna get better "

" i just keep looking back at you "

" it sawed me right in half "

" now you're living the goddamn dream "

" you were it for me "

" i know i gave you all of myself "

" i'm watching you moving on "

" do you love her/him/them? "

" the worst way to love somebody is to watch them love somebody else "

" was I just an idea you liked? "

" i still can't make it make any sense "

" i thought it would be us for life "

" how's it feel to have made me cry? "

" will you tell me just one more lie? "

" loving you was easy, that's why it hurts now "

" i was treading water till the minute we met "

" i know it didn't last "

" i still want you back "

" maybe that's for the best "

" i am not allowed to want you any longer "

" i'd be yours again tomorrow if you wanted "

" i bet you've thrown away our photographs "

" you look like a superstar "

" it was letting go of everything but you "

" i hadn't thought of home twice "

" if we're living the dream, i hope we never wake up "

" i take in clowns like a one-woman circus "

" you're kinda awful, but you're not awful on purpose "

" oh, mr bruce wayne, where is that cape now? "

" don't you know that you're losing this? "

" don't you see what i'm giving up? "

" you can't even text "

" what did you expect? "

" i'm on a one-way trip to take over the world "

" you could've come, but your head's in the sand "

" you pushed me out quicker than it took me to put my jeans on "

" maybe you're lost and just can't see what you have but i'm not gonna wait "

" don't you see what what you're giving up? "

" i'm not holding my breath "

" i know how your tone works "

" i know you remember "

" i'm the best thing that almost happened to you "

" i'm the greatest love that you wasted "

" we could live off of magic and maybes "

" you're evasive on the phone "

" i'll still flinch at the sound of a door "

" i could love you and wait 'til you're ready "

" what happened here? "

" you swore a lot of things "

" i've been lied to before "

" i've heard some things that i will leave unrepeated "

" if a man says that he wants you in his life forever, run! "

" i wish i'd known "

" i wish i hadn't let go "

" when we said goodbye, i wish i hadn't let go "

" you were driving fast, i was holding back "

" i loved you, babe, but i bet you knew that "

" you said we're like your mom and dad "

" i was yours so fast, i was scared so bad "

" i loved you, did I tell you that? "

" but if I'm tricky, why'd you kiss me? "

" love's a verb and not a bandage "

" i'm good at pretending "

" i kept it in but it wrecked my organs "

" so pour the gin "

" i'm gonna throw you down the river "

" if you don't love me, what was april? "

" it broke me big time "

" i've been treated carelessly "

" in the bed of poison oak you were the remedy "

" i couldn't ask anymore "

" i know it's wrong "

" but now you're gone, i can't sleep "

" i'm just talking to your memory "

" you swore that you'd be there for me "

" now your touch will last for centuries "

" at least I had you for this long "

" you gave me the world "

" you gave me your word "

" it built me like a promise 'til it broke me like a curse "

" i knew loving you was letting you leave "

" i'm dating but just dating for sport "

" i'm doing better "

" i thought i gave you the best of me "

" i can finally breathe "

" the love we had was eating me whole "

" i don't need your light to be lit "

" i just should've known when to quit "

" now i'm over the worst of it "

" i tried to rewrite it, but i can't "

" i've pleaded with the powers and their plans "

" the men start wars yet troy hates helen "

" women's hearts are lethal weapons "

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #meme #memes #roleplay meme #ask memes #lyric meme #lyrics #maisie peters

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lauriemarch · 1 month

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i've been an older sister for eighteen years now– you'd think that i'd have a grasp on it by now. but the truth is, i'm terrible at it, i'm the kind of terrible that would get you fired from an understaffed fast food joint in the middle of a lunch rush; i'm bad at texting them back and i forget if they're seventeen or sixteen now and when i was little i would get so mad that i would cry and rage and wish they would just stop being so terrible for once in their puny little lives.

and when i was a freshman in college i saw a play about a sister and brother coming together for the anniversary of their youngest brother's death; and the characters danced and twirled around the hardness of it all but i felt it in my teeth, like a wild and rabid dog, and i knew that if one of my brothers died it could never be something i lived through. i'd have to lay down in the grave beside them and beg them to seal the tomb, cover me in dirt and let me grow wild and gnarled. i know when bad things happen to them like a distant alarm whirling around in wind thick with dust and locusts. i never see them cry anymore and i almost miss it, the tender weeping of an eleven year old.

i close my eyes and i can still see them, ten and eight, round cheeks and missing teeth, covered in fingerpaint, riding scooters, swim trunks and s'mores, clifford and the wiggles. blue and green. easter egg hunts and six in the morning on christmas day. baseball glove, wiffle ball.

i'm nothing like my brothers, i tell people. if we weren't related, we wouldn't be friends. and we're not friends, not really, but we're the same in our bones. we have the same morals and beliefs, we have the same noses when you squint, we cry over the same things and we all miss our grandma. i love you, have a good day! i text one. how'd the game go? i text the other. Yeah we just smacked them. It’s good, so far it’s been pretty fun. Love you. Thank you. Thank you tho. Morning J love you. It's going good.

Love you more.

if you could time travel to anywhere, when would you pick? i'd pick a random tuesday in 2007. i'd see the toddler legs ambling around on tan shag carpet. i'd see the toys underfoot, smell the spaghetti on the stove, i'd hear myself reciting multiplication tables like they'll save my life. i'd relish in the fact that we're all living under the same roof, safe and whole, none of our hearts have been broken and we don't understand pain that doesn't pour from bloody knees and hangnails. i'd pick up my brothers one last time, give them the piggyback rides they wanted and play airplanes all around the living room. i'd say i love you just to hear the choir sing it back.

#little rambling because i got sad about the fact that my family will never live under the same roof again probably #i miss my brothers 🧍🏻‍♀️#what does this mean you ask #i don't know i respond #dark academia #light academia #studyblr #booklr #studying #light acadamia aesthetic #study notes #book blog #little women #poetry #family #family dynamics #eldest daughter #eldest sister

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eightyuh · 6 months

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Hello, it's me again! I wanted to ask- Oh wait, here he comes. Nevermind.

"YES! It is I... RACIFUS! THE MAGNIFICENT!"

... Nobody calls you that.

"Bah, shut up! And it is you... Glendale Goodwyn. The retired warrior. A man who once gave his life and power to his kingdom... but now he must find a new life, as he cannot give what is gone! Unless he finds a way to return to his previous self, of course... but can we truly go back to the ways things were? Well, who knows!"

"It will be interesting to see how your story unfolds. I have been and will be watching your adventures, yes. I prefer to lurk in the shadows of others' stories, and leave mine untold. Ah, but that's enough about me."

"I understand that our last interaction was... unfavorable. The arachnids were... in poor taste, I believe."

Anything else you'd like to say about that?

"...? Oh! Yes, I am sorry. I will not cast that spell upon you again. Most likely. Unless I forget."

Sigh

"To apologize, I'd like to bestow upon you... A GIFT! Nothing too large, I promise, eehehee."

"Huzzah! A ladder! Specially designed, just for you! Lightweight, extendable, and enchanted to ensure it remains stable and does not fall as you climb. To help you reach places by yourself that you could not before!"

(It might look a tad bit small for Glen, but thats because I underestimated how big 6 inches was when i was drawing lol)

"You do not have to accept my gift, of course. It is your choice. I just wish to see how you will use or not use it, is all."

"And with that, I bid you farewell! Until we meet again... eehehehehee!"

[Interesting... what will you do with this gift?]

(sorry for the big ask, i had a sudden bout of inspiration and i figured I might as well use it as an excuse to practice drawing. It will happen again (as long as i have your permission i don't want to be too weird))

#ask #WICK'S END #glendale goodwyn #harry #glen #oc #this is just cute i love this #so silly and charming yeah !!!!!#i like the idea of SORRY FOR THE SPIDERS here's something useful #(it's useless)

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ashprompts · 10 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 (𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒) — 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from the album by boygenius, "the record." feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

"give me everything you've got, i'll take what i can get."

"i want to hear your story and be a part of it."

"who would i be without you?"

"speak to me until your history's no mystery to me."

"talk to me until the words run dry."

"i'll give everything i've got, please take what i can give."

"i want you to hear my story."

"it's a bad idea and i'm all about it."

"when you wake up, i'll be gone again."

"in another life we were arsonists."

"mama told me that it don't run on wishes, but that i should have fun."

"so many hills to die on."

"run out of gas, out of time, out of money."

"you're doing what you can, just making it run."

"take a break, make your escape."

"can you give me twenty dollars?"

"i know you have twenty dollars."

"she's asleep in the back seat looking peaceful enough to me."

"we're coming back from where no one lives."

"[name], i'm sorry."

"i just make it up as i go along."

"i can feel myself becoming someone only you could want."

"now i'm wide awake, spiraling."

"i'll get a real job, you'll go back to school."

"we can burn out in the freezing cold."

"you know how i get when i'm wrong."

"i can feel myself becoming somebody that i'm not."

"i'm 27 and i don't know who i am."

"you can't help but become the sun."

"when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out."

"it feels good to be known so well."

"i can't hide from you like i hide from myself."

"you already hurt my feelings in the way only you could."

"i remember who i am when i'm with you."

"your love is tough." / "your love is tried and true blue."

"you've never done me wrong, except for that one time."

"it doesn't matter anymore."

"who won the fight?"

"i don't know, we're not keeping score."

"i'm trying to be cool about it."

"wishing you were kind enough to be cruel about it."

"telling myself i can always do without it, knowing that it probably isn't true."

"it's impossible to pass your tests."

"i'm trying to forget about it."

"kindly get out of my head about it."

"once i took your medication to know what it's like." / "and now i have to act like i can't read your mind."

"i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie."

"we don't have to talk about it."

"i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning."

"it's nice to see how good you're doing."

"we know it isn't true."

"it would only take the energy to fix it."

"i don't know why i am the way i am."

"not strong enough to be your man."

"i can't stop staring at the ceiling fan."

"spinning out about things that haven't happened."

"do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement?"

"i lied, i am just lowering your expectations."

"half a mind that keeps the other second guessing."

"always an angel, never a god."

"i think i've been having revelations."

"skip the exit to our old street and go home."

"go home alone."

"you live up in my head."

"i've been making music since you told me to do it."

"i just wanna know who broke your nose."

"figure out where they live, so i can kick their teeth in."

"if this isn't love then what the fuck is it?"

"i guess just let me pretend."

"i don't wanna die. that's a lie, but i'm afraid to get sick."

"if you're not enough, then i give up."

"i used to think if i'd just close my eyes, i will disappear."

"if you love me, you will listen to this song."

"i could tell that you were serious."

"it gave us more time to embarrass ourselves."

"i might like you less now that you know me so well."

"there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

"i am not an old man having an existential crisis."

"i never thought you'd happen to me."

"will you be a satanist with me?"

"mortgage off your soul to buy your dream vacation home in florida."

"tryin' to score some off-brand ecstasy."

"will you be an anarchist with me?"

"sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie."

"at least until you find out what a fake i am."

"spray paint my initials on an atm."

"i burn my cash and smash my old tv."

"will you be a nihilist with me?"

"if nothing matters, man, that's a relief."

"if nothing can be known, then stupidity is holy."

"if the void becomes a bore, we'll treat ourselves to some self-belief."

"oh, you know what i should do?"

"it's so hard to come back."

"you could absolutely break my heart."

"that's how i know that we're in love."

"i don't need the symbol of a scar."

"isn't it enough that we stripped down to our skin?"

"i feel crazy in ways i never say."

"will you still love me if it turns out i'm insane?"

"i know what you'll say, but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

"damn, that makes me sad." / "it doesn't have to be like that."

"if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?"

"i can't imagine you without the same smile in your eyes."

"there is something about you that i will always recognize."

"if you don't remember, i will try to remind you."

"i will go on and on until it all comes back."

"i'm out of my depth at a public beach."

"i never listened, i had to see it for myself."

"making peace with my inevitable death."

"i guess i did alright, considering." / "tried to be a halfway decent friend."

"an honest fool with more bad habits than you can count."

"was anyone ever so young?"

"breaking curfew with illegal fireworks."

"unpacking god in the suburbs."

"you don't have to make it bad just cause you know how."

"writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard."

"an incantation like an anti-curse."

"i think that you're special." / "you told me once that i'm selfish."

"you said my music is mellow, maybe i'm just exhausted."

"you think you're a good person because you won't punch me."

"i love you. i don't know why, i just do."

"you're not special, you're evil."

"you don't get to tell me to calm down."

"you made me feel like an equal, but i'm better than you and you should know that by now."

"it looked like it hurt and i wasn't sorry."

"i should have left you right there."

"you don't know me."

"i wanna be happy."

"i'm ready to walk into my room without looking for you."

"i'll go up to the top of our building."

"i can't feel it yet, but i am waiting."

#ask meme #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp meme #rp memes #sentence prompts #rp prompts #boygenius #the record #boygenius rp meme #boygenius prompts #inbox meme #inbox prompts #roleplay memes #me vs the sudden urge to finally actually make a meme on here i GUESS

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