#my gifs are getting worse and worse by the day :(

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@jamneuromain

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

#cevansbrat0007 fics #cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson girlfriend!reader #chris evans x curvy!reader #ari levinson x curvy!reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man... 

You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today. 

You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he? 

You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? 

The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow. 

You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot. 

When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes. 

You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. 

Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse. 

☕

You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple. 

You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view. 

The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything. 

You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang. 

You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out. 

You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her. 

“I think there’s a mistake,” you say. 

She grunts and stares back at you. 

“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.” 

“Lease violation,” she shrugs. 

“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?” 

“Read the letter,” she sniffs. 

You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that? 

“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--” 

“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face. 

What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory. 

You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all. 

The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right. 

You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies. 

You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out. 

Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff. 

You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.  

You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment. 

“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.  

You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens. 

‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’ 

Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now. 

A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’ 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #au #the gray man #the man

[actuallysaiyan]

Thank You(Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader)

warnings: trauma, mentions of death, wounds, blood, smut, unprotected sex, angst, sadness, fluff, Mugen Train Spoilers, AU word count: 2.3k pairings: Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader summary: after Kyojuro survives the events of the Mugen Train incident, he finds himself hoping for someone better to come sweep you off your feet. what Kyojuro doesn't realize is that you are with him, for better or for worse. a/n: IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN! PLEASE I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

Dividers by the loverly @benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @misty-angerose @adharadotcom

Since the incident that happened with the Mugen Train, Kyojuro wondered how many days he had left. He hated thinking that way, but he couldn’t help but think about how he was always inches away from death. He just barely managed to avoid death that time, and now he was trying to heal so he could get right back to being the flame Hashira.

But something had been more pressing than that. Even though he lost his left eye and sustained some deep internal wounds, his love for you never faltered. He found himself thinking of not only his mother, but also you, during his final moments. Or at least, what Kyojuro had believed to be his last moments. And when he had bestowed his advice on the young Kamado, Kyojuro felt his life fading fast.

The one thing he hadn’t been expecting was to see your beautiful face as he felt his life slipping away. You weren’t happy though, no you were desperate. You began treatment on him immediately, using a potion from Shinobu. She had been the one to tell you that your lover had gone on to fight the demon plaguing the Mugen Train. 

The next thing Kyojuro remembers is waking up in the Butterfly Mansion. His whole body ached, he couldn’t see out of his left eye and he was tired. But he didn’t think he was going to make it out alive from that battle. He remembered the way young Kamado was so fed up with the way the demon had gotten away. He remembered the determination on your face too.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Shinobu comments as she enters the room. Kyojuro feels so disoriented.

“Mmm…yes.”

Shinobu begins taking his vitals, checking his healing. When she feels satisfied with the way things are going, she begins to change his bandages. While she’s taking care of him, Kyojuro inquires about your wellbeing and how things happened after he passed out from the bloodloss.

“You were so lucky she was there,” Shinobu finally says.

Kyojuro swallows hard, “I know that. I owe her my life.”

Shinobu leaves, telling him that lunch will be served momentarily. He lies in the bed, feeling a little better now that his bandages have been changed and that Shinobu had given him something for the pain. He thinks about you, wondering where you are.

The door opens and there you are. You look inside the room, worried about what you might find. You’ve been missing your lover. You worried day and night about him, unsure if you’d ever get to look at his beautiful face once more. You wondered if you’d ever hear the sound of his voice.

You rush over to him, tears in your eyes. He doesn’t even know what to say. He lets you crumble in his arms, and he lets you press kisses to his wounded and scarred face.

“Oh my flame…” you whisper. “I thought—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Precious little flame,” Kyojuro murmurs back. “I am happy to see you again.”

You cup his face, careful not to put too much pressure on any of his wounds. Then you press your lips to his, savoring the way he tastes. You swore to yourself that you’d never forget this taste. You’d never forget the way he smells like scorched earth and bonfires. The way he’s always warm, even on cold nights. Tears cascade down your cheeks.

“I love you, Kyojuro. I never wanted you to go on that mission.”

Kyojuro chuckles, “You know that I needed to go. I’m a Hashira. I’m meant to protect the innocent.”

You cry even harder, making his face screw up in pain. He hates hearing you cry. He hates seeing you in pain like this. Kyojuro sits up and he gathers you up in his arms. Even if his bones and muscles scream out in pain, he doesn’t care. What matters most to him is to be able to hold you so close.

“I’m scared to lose my lover,”

Your words pierce his heart. He knows what it means to have this heavy burden placed on his shoulders. His father had quit being the Hashira because of the death of his mother. Kyojuro had watched the man crumble so quickly, taking up alcohol as a way to cope. He wonders if maybe you’d end up like that if you were to lose him.

“You won’t lose me. I promise,”

The next few weeks consist of you helping Kyojuro return to the closest to normal as he can. He’s mostly been relieved of his duties as a Hashira for the time being. He’s healing up well, but something sits deep in his heart. He wonders if maybe you should find someone else.

Not only are you attending to his every need now, you’re just wasting your precious time with him. You could be happier with someone else. You could make someone very lucky. It hurts Kyojuro so deeply when he begins to imagine you with someone else.

Late at night when everyone has gone to sleep and you’re sleeping in his arms now that Shinobu has given the okay for this, Kyojuro admires your beauty. He admires your strength and your courage. Then he thinks about you marrying someone else. He’s no fool, he knew he should have perished in his last battle. He should have died.

Kyojuro cannot bring himself to even imagine making you his bride. The thought of turning you into such a young widow. It makes him ache so deep inside. He weeps silently, wishing things could be different for the both of you. He thinks about how he’s going to break things off with you. It’s what should happen. You could be so much happier.

The thing is, Kyojuro didn’t realize that you were so determined to keep him close to your heart. One day as the two of you are walking through the wisteria trees, you turn to face your lover.

“Kyo, you know that I absolutely adore you, correct?”

He smiles softly, “I do know this, my little flame.”

His jaw drops when he sees you kneeling in front of him. A beautiful silver band sits in your hands as you present to him this ring. It’s engraved with someone’s name on it, but he doesn’t recognize it.

“I know I shouldn’t be the one to do this.” You try to clarify. “It should be the man. But I love you, and I’m not about to lose you. Please…marry me.”

Kyojuro feels his stomach doing flips. He looks at the beautiful ring you have presented him. He looks at the sincerity in your eyes and it just breaks his heart. You deserve better than someone cracked and broken.

“My little flame,” he helps you to your feet. “I couldn’t…I shouldn’t…”

Your heart shatters at the response. It’s not at all what you were expecting. Tears began to well up in your eyes. You don’t know how to process the words that have just come from your lover.

“D-do you not…do you not love me?”

It was his turn for his heart to shatter. The thought of you even thinking he doesn’t love you was enough to make him tremble. Tears slide down his cheeks as he gathers you up in his arms. You try to squirm to get away, which makes him feel even more guilty.

“I do love you. I love you so much, I’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked it of me.” Kyojuro explains through sobbing and hiccuping. “I’d give you anything you want. I just think you deserve better than me. I’m broken and I’m not good enough for you.”

You shake your head in defiance. “Kyojuro, you are my heart and my soul. You are more than good enough for me.”

Then you cup his face in your hands. It’s been a while since his bandages have been taken off, but he still suffers from nerve damage and sensitivities. He shudders at your touch, loving the way your softness always comes through. He nuzzles his face in the palms of your hands, sighing.

“I am broken.” He finally manages to say. “You need someone who could make you happy.”

You scoff, “You are the one who makes me happy. You are the one I need.”

Kyojuro finally opens his eyes. The left one doesn’t work, only able to see grayscale in that one. He can see very vague shapes through it. But he knows what you look like from memory. Even if he lost his sight completely, he would still know the beauty and grace that has blessed you.

“I wouldn’t want you to regret it.”

You shake your head, “Marrying my lover would never be a regret.”

The day fast approaches. Kyojuro wonders if he’ll look presentable for you. He knows that his father has allowed you and him to wear the family’s traditional wedding clothes, but he still feels like a complete failure to his family and to you.

“Kyojuro,” Shinjuro enters the room. “Are you prepared?”

Kyojuro is touched to see his father looking so well-groomed for the first time in what seems like forever. He smiles, tears filling his eyes once more. Shinjuro is shocked, but he feels this tenderness coming from his eldest son. Shinjuro approaches his son, smoothing down the folds in his garment.

“You will be a good husband. You are patient, caring, sweet and understanding. You have inherited the best qualities from me and your mother, just like your brother has.”

Kyojuro wipes his eyes, pulling on the eyepatch to cover the damaged eye. Shinjuro smiles sweetly, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this affectionate with Kyojuro. It feels so good to know his son has survived and is taking a good woman as his bride.

“You will be blessed. This I know.”

Kyojuro exits his dressing room and he’s guided towards the shrine that your marriage will take place in. Shinjuro guides him to the altar, and then he takes his spot off to the side. 

All eyes are on you as you arrive. You walk down towards the altar, looking like an angel dressed in your all-white shiromuku. Kyojuro’s eyes widen when he sees you. You’re the most precious thing in his life, and here you are, walking towards him so you can get married.

The wedding officiant begins the ceremony which will join you and Kyojuro forever. You will be bound together. 

Everyone is in tears by the time you two share a kiss. They have never witnessed such a wonderful union in their lives. All your friends are so happy for the both of you.

By the time the wedding is over, you know that you have no regrets. You have made the best choice for yourself. You adore Kyojuro and nothing could ever change that for you.

Kyojuro had been worried that you wouldn’t want to be intimate with him. He had his doubts that you even saw him as attractive anymore. But every doubt and worry and insecurity was tossed out the window the minute you two were relaxing in the onsen in your honeymoon suite.

You straddled his lap gently, kissing him on the lips. Your hands caressed and massaged his muscles, making him feel aroused. His cock twitched to life with every single searing kiss you gave him.

Your tongues tangled together, swapping saliva. His breath feels hot on your skin whenever you pull away to breathe. Soft pleas fall from your reddened and swollen lips.

“I want you,” you purr. “I need to feel you.”

Kyojuro is shocked, but his heart skips a beat. He feels the way you touch him, and he knows you are being very truthful. With renewed strength, your husband picks you up and brings you over to the bed. He crawls on top of you, the lust and love written all over his face.

He kisses you passionately, cupping your face between his calloused hands. His nose rubs against yours, dragging down your cheek as he finds other places to kiss you. Your body feels so hot, so electrified. Every touch and every kiss is mesmerizing.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out as he kneads your breasts.

“As you are,” you compliment him. “You look just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

This makes his heart swell with love. Despite everything he was thinking before he married you, he can see that you adore him. You want the best for him, and you happen to be the absolute best for him.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he suckles on your nipples, then he presses open-mouthed kisses down your body. Kyojuro lets out a growl when he spreads your thighs and he takes a greedy inhale of your scent. You are divine, intoxicating, sweet and musky. It’s all too much for him, he feels like he could lose himself completely to you.

He laps at you like a man who’s been in the desert for ages and you are his oasis. Your nectar dribbles on his lips and tongue, making him moan as he tastes you so fervently. Kyojuro expertly pulls two orgasms from you with just his mouth alone. Then he settles himself on his knees, ready to push into you.

The stretch is delicious and leaves you feeling full. He kisses away all your tears, praising you for taking him so well. Both of you are unable to last long now that you’re making love, and your orgasm makes him tumble over the edge quickly. 

Soft kisses and whispered words of praise are what end the first night as a newlywed couple, and when you awake the next day, you see the man you adore in the shining light of the sun peeking through the curtains.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his heart heavy with love.

You kiss his lips. “I’d never give up on you. Because you’ve never given up on me.”

#bacon.writes #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x you #kny kyojuro #kny kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kyojuro x reader smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer smut

[salternateunreality2]

AGSZC Deep Cleaning the Biohazard that is Zack’s Apartment

From the @strayheartless vault <3

—

Zack: It’s not a biohazard, that would mean nothing’s living there, and look, my pets are fine! *opens a drawer with a new litter of mice in it*

Genesis: AAAAAAA! Ahem. I mean to say: Zachariah McKinley Fair, a biohazard means it is unsafe for humans, and often involves dangerous non-human organisms. SUCH AS WILD MICE.

Zack: They’re not wild, they’re my fri-

Genesis: Zachariah. If you finish that word, I will firaga them immediately.

Zack: NO! *Hides the mice with his body*

—-

After Genesis’ 5th childish scream, Angeal’s 3rd round of dry-heaving, and Sephiroth and Cloud being found twitching near the entrance, Zack concedes that maybe he has some work to do.

—

Cloud decides to body-double for Zack by riding him like a backpack.

Zack: Maybe this sock is salvageable!

Koala Cloud: Nope, put it in the bag.

Zack: But I wanna- 

Cloud: IN THE BAG, FAIR.

—

Sephiroth is in full-coverage PPE to protect his hair and senses, and is excavating the fridge with gloves. 

Zack: But my pasta is in that tub of whipped cream! 

Angeal, working at the sink and dry-heaving: I MADE THAT FOR YOU LAST MONTH.

—

They have to set up a rotating schedule of visiting Zack's apartment so he's motivated to clean everything at least weekly, but Zack is really grateful.

He never means for it to get this bad, it’s just…he makes friends with the critters! And, well, sometimes he forgets things. And…and sometimes he just gets overwhelmed. He looks at the pile of dishes and knows he can’t do them all today, so he doesn’t do any.

Or he tries. He starts by picking up the dishes in his bedroom, but trips over a shirt along the way. He sets the dishes down to take the shirt to the laundry, but his eyes catch on the dusty blinds, so obviously he has to clean them, but then he looks up and it’s 3 hours later and he’s dismantled the whole window dressing and is cleaning the grooves with a q-tip and everything is worse than when he started.

Zack breaks down trying to explain it, and Genesis is the first to tell him he understands. Genesis and Angeal sandwich him between themselves while Sephiroth puts a hand on Zack’s shoulder and Cloud starts worming his way into Zack’s arms.

—

Zack cleans for each of them all the time, but for some reason, he can’t understand why they’d help him too.

It surprises him when Angeal comes over and just. Does all his dishes. Or when Genesis comes over and "purifies this hellhole of a bathroom" (gives it a decent clean and fills it with good soaps/battery operated candles/fresh towels). Or when Cloud obsessively sorts and folds his laundry, or when Sephiroth puts everything through the wash when he's working from home one day.

Zack doesn't GET that he's done the exact same things for them, like the time he scoured Angeal's pots for half a day, or polished every metallic surface in Sephiroth's apartment, or dusted Genesis' place so thoroughly it gleamed, or put fresh sheets on Cloud's bed, bundled him up, and did all his laundry while he was dissociating.

He doesn't realize the insurmountable task of addressing The Chair is easy for Angeal (it all goes in the wash. It's all dirty enough.), but the same man finds throwing out socks with holes hard (but acceptable when Zack does it for him).

Zack forgets that he folded all of Gen's towels into swans when Gen’s parents were coming into town and is blown away when Gen leaves a simply folded towel on the rack.

He thinks the work he puts into adding color to Sephiroth’s spartan apartment is nothing, not realizing Sephiroth’s heart is warmed by each and every little splash Zack sneaks in.

Zack doesn’t realize that Cloud would rather do all of Zack’s mopping than address the sensory hell that is washing monster gunk off his own boots, which Zack does for him often.

#ff7 #zack fair #sephiroth #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #agszc #adhd zack fair #best boy zack fair #best pupper zack fair

[katelynnwrites]

down bad | laura freigang

warnings: angst

word count: 346

summary: laura thinks she might just die because it would make no difference now that you have broken up with her

a/n: the first installation of my taylor swift's 'the anthology' blurbs series

laura is so angry. she’s devastated too and hovering somewhere in the agonising in between.

just because you broke up with her doesn’t mean that she stops being in love with you.

that makes everything worse.

because while she is still down bad for you, you seem to have moved on from her perfectly well.

you don’t show up at training sessions with swollen eyes. you don’t skip team bondings. you look good, as if nothing has ever changed.

the blonde hates that she can’t say the same for herself.

loving you and letting you love her in return gave her a new perspective, showed her what she was missing.

she doesn’t know how to go back to where she came from. to how she saw the world before.

for a moment the striker had a love like no other. a love that she never dreamt of having. it had exceeded all her most hopeful of dreams.

but now it’s gone. her relationship with you is gone. you are gone.

yet, she still sees you practically every day and it takes everything in her not to scream at you.

to yell at you and ask how the hell you are okay when she is so far from it.

you are the reason why she is now down bad crying at the gym.

she pushes herself there until she can’t anymore. then she goes to the practice field and takes shots on goal until she’s completely exhausted.

until she gives up, lying on her back in the middle of the field, staring at the sky and fervently wishing that you would come back and pick her up.

pick her up and love her again.

she knows it sounds like teenage petulance but she thinks that if she can’t have you, she would simply say fuck it cause she was in love.

because she is still in love.

laura doesn’t want anyone, not if they’re not you.

so she decides that if she can’t have you, she might just not get up. she will simply stay down bad.

#starting off with down bad... #laura freigang #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #woso #woso blurbs #woso oneshot #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #eintracht frankfurt frauen #gerwnt #dfb frauen #katelynnwrites #'the anthology' blurbs series

[respectthepetty]

do you happen to have any other bls with toxic kings up your sleeve? i’m as giddy as you when it comes to ming! i’m newer to bls, so there’s a good chance i haven’t seen whatever you suggest.

Anon, I have an entire roster of toxic characters because

I LOVE TOXIC BITCHES!

Like 2 Chainz rapped on one of my favorite songs, "I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem" which is why I HATE when a story won't allow characters to be toxic. Like we all know the character IS toxic, but the story keeps telling us he isn't that bad or he is only that bad because reasons. Regardless of the reasons, the character is a bad bitch so why not just let him fucking own it, which is truly the reason Only Friends pissed me off so much.

Case and point, my favorite characters were Ray and Nick. Ray was calling Sand a whore every two seconds and throwing money at him, while Nick was recording non-consexual sex tapes, yet the narrative wanted me to think they were just sad dudes who were slightly problematic.

NAH! Nick straight up said he was trash! THEY WERE TOXIC just like everyone else in that damn show!

Which is why I liked Kang in Dangerous Romance because I don't feel like the narrative eased up on his toxicity. In fact, I feel like the story said Sailom was into it with that master/servant scene at the very end.

So in order for me to love a toxic character, they must 1) be considered toxic by the story, and 2) stay toxic, so I'm going to give you a list of ten of my favorites, but know that spoilers are coming your way too. Also know that I do not recommend anything, ever, so these are not recommendations. These are merely my favorite toxicitos.

Mis tóxicos favoritos

presented in no particular order

Todd - Not Me

This man had his lover (it's canon to me) beat into a coma. Then, he went and grabbed that man's twin brother and made him take on his lover's persona all so he could overthrow his competition and be the number one evil capitalist. And then, AND THEN, he was excited to see his lover, Black, return even though he knew that meant he was probably going to die. Honestly, his entire relationship with Black was toxic, and I desperately need more of it. Not Me 2: Blackout when? WHEN, GMMTV?!

Rio & Kido - The Novelist Series

Rio blew Kido in front of an old man in broad daylight, so they could get a book deal. That's just one of the many fucked up things these two did together, but they were even worse apart. Rio lied to a college student for months about his arm being injured and writing pornographic novels just to turn on the college student and fuck him because . . . he was bored? It's deeper than that, but it kinda ain't. Rio and Kido did toxic shit to feel alive and that's my special brand of toxic. I will never make excuses for them. I like them this way.

Yai - Big Dragon

The very beginning of this show, as in the very first scene, is Yai and Mangkorn having sex AFTER Yai drugged Mangkorn in hopes of sexually assaulting him and recording it. AND MANGKORN IS INTO IT! Yai tries to steal Mangkorn's phone and ruin his life too, but Mangkorn is so in love with Yai, that he is willing to play along with whatever Yai does including fighting Yai. This is one of my favorite BLs for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest is because instead of trying to tame Yai, Mangkorn just decided to match his toxic energy! I love that for them.

Songpol - Club Friday

Bank plays toxic very well, which is why he has two characters on this list, even though this show isn't technically a BL. Club Friday is already a hot mess express, so to be the most toxic character in a show filled with toxic characters means that Songpol was TOK-SICK! He cheated on his boyfriend with multiple men. When his boyfriend left him for a woman, he showed up outside of that woman's house calling her a whore. He then went to their wedding just so he could fuck his ex in a bathroom (on his wedding day). He continued to hook up with his ex, and sent a video to his ex's wife of them having sex, only for her to tell him to move into the house and continue having sex with her husband! AND THAT'S ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE! He was serving telenovela villain, and I want him back.

Vegas - KinnPorsche

The scene: Vegas' beloved hedgehog has just died and he has carried out a tiny funeral for him while the bodyguard he has been holding hostage AND TORTURING comforts him, but instead of sitting in that grief, Vegas tells the bodyguard that the bodyguard is probably turned on by seeing Vegas weak, then proceeds to fuck him. Skipping over the fact that Vegas drugged Porsche, killed Tawan, got Big and Ken murdered by extension, and a plethora of other horrible shit, Vegas was a HUGE red flag from the very beginning, and I wanted him to choke me so badly. *bites knuckles*

Charn - Laws of Attraction

He had his reasons, but the story and his husband didn't let that be an excuse for his toxic behavior. He tried burning down Tinn's house, with Tinn and his grandmother in it, and Tinn was very upset about it. Not enough to not sleep with Charn, but enough to get his point across that if Charn wanted to burn something down, he needed to focus on burning down the oppressive heteronormative government, so we could all have basic human rights. Toxic, but for the cause.

Chalothon - The Sign

I knew he was a problem because the way he handled his patients, but he truly proved how toxic he was when he told Phaya he would kill Tharn before letting Phaya have him. I'm mad that the show made him good in the last episode, with most of if being off-screen, but I'll always remember how he committed psychological warfare on Phaya for eleven episodes in hopes of making Phaya seem crazy, and actually made Tharn, Phaya's soulmate, question Phaya's sanity.

Mol - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

The only woman on this list and she isn't even queer. That's how toxic this chick was that she made it on a this list being a heterosexual, which was a major part of her toxicity. She is a top-tier gaslighter to her son. She doesn't actually consider Inn her friend. She uses feminist rhetoric to be homophobic. She manipulates every situation in her favor by using tears. I could write a list just about her being lead paint toxic, but the most fucked up part is that she got to ride off into the sunset with her son in the passenger seat being miserable, which is what she wanted. No other BL parent could reach her level. Korn and Gun from KinnPorsche exist, yet this woman would eat them alive without hesitation, then go throw a party for herself. She really is that bitch.

Yong Jie - HIStory 4: Close to You

I'm not going to bullshit around him being a whole ass problem. This motherfucker is the most controversial pick on this list, and I am well aware of why he is hated by the people, but the story told us he was the devil. The show treated everything he did like stalking, physical assault, and sexual assault as horrible, and he got knocked out for it. HIStory 4 is my favorite BL, ever, and part of it is because the story let this toxic motherfucker BE toxic. I love how much I hate him, and I love how much the story allows me to hate him.

So - House of Stars

This show was a mess, so I was not expecting this man to come out as THE toxic king to rule over every other toxic character. What made him so toxic is that I had no idea just how toxic he was until the exact moment I realized it, and that's why he is one of my favorites. He was sneaky. He was playing everyone against each other. He was letting the bodies stack up. He was Tan from Dead Friend Forever without anyone figuring out he was Tan. One person realized part of his plan, but even then, that person was not aware of how committed to the bit So was. This smile was the very last scene of the show, and it really proved that this boy ruined everyone's lives only to walk out of it completely unbothered. You know, king shit.

#toxic kings #I love toxic bitches #it's the unhinged behavior and mind games that always gets me #house of stars #history 4: close to you #180 degree longitude passes through us #club friday #kinnporsche #big dragon #laws of attraction #the sign #not me #the novelist

[cvntyworld]

wasteland survival guide ( maximus )

summary: you didn't trust easy, but the unconscious man on your porch was way too pretty to let die, and you were way too curious as to why someone from that cult known as the brotherhood would have collapsed on your door in need of help and expecting you to help was an even more insane point of view.

contents: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, black cat and golden retriever energy, max has a tooth lodged in his shoulder like he does in the show, reader pointed a gun at max, awkward tensions as max doesn't know what tf he's doing, fast burn, kissing, ect...

dedicated to: @fallout-girl219

You've learned two things about the man who you found collapsed on your front porch, his name is Maximus, Max for short, and he was a part of the brotherhood of steel, a cult, in your honest opinion.

Why you had helped him, you still weren't sure about that just yet, maybe it was the fact he was in the way and you would have to step over him every time you entered your house or exited it. You would have to listen to his cries of complaint, desperate for help as his sleeve became a red stain from the wound in his arm. So you decided to help, for once, you had plenty of stim packs and he would get better in no time with one of them. You had dragged him inside pathetically, nearly tripping on the final step when you finally got him into your house.

He had a tooth lodged in his shoulder, rotten and yellow, you had removed it with tweezers and stuck the needle from the stim pack into the open wound and then after seconds, he had woken up with a jolt whilst you turned your back for a mere second, too busy shoving the box back into your cabinet and locking it.

You had heard the thump and turned sharply, your gun pointed at the man who had fallen off your coach with a painful groan, clutching his arm as he sat up and stared at you with a look of worry when he saw the gun you're pointing right at his head. He held his hands up, as you continued to point your weapon, "If I lower this, you're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" He shakes his head, staring widely as you lowered the gun and in turn held out your hand for him to take, he was surprised at your strength, managing to get him onto his feet with a single pull of his hand.

He was suddenly in your space and so you step back, a little cautious of his taller frame, he could win a fight if he'd chosen to be hostile, but instead he had held out a hand for you to shake to which you agreed. "Thanks for uhh... not letting me die on your porch." He says with a wave of awkwardness in his tone, "I'm Max, Maximus." You let go of his hand with a shrug, "I'm Y/N." You were quick to reply, and he nodded at you with a smile.

"Well, thank you, Y/N, for your hospitality... You don't get a lot of that these days, especially towards brotherhood of steel members." You shrug at him dismissively, sitting down on your worn out couch, "I'm not the biggest fan, no offence, but, I'm not that cruel, I wouldn't leave your ass to bleed out in my yard." He tried to laugh, but your dislike towards the brotherhood made him frown with a look of disappointment. "I don't mean to pry but why do you dislike them? Surely there's a reason." You shrug out of laziness, and turn to face him, "Well, for one, it is such a cult full of military wannabes who think they're gonna save the world or something like that when what they're actually doing is making shit ten times worse." Max was taken aback by your words, sure there were a few truths to your words but the first point made him forget what else had been said so far.

"The brotherhood isn't a cult."

The two of you grew silent, Max had a frown on his face, offended at your words, and then after fully letting it sink in what he had said, you laughed. Your lungs burned out from the breaths you inhaled, trying to get air as you had continued to laugh at his reaction and his words and the man in front of you went even further to prove how you'd offended him by crossing his arms. "What's so funny?" Is the first thing he asks when you finally calm down and it finally makes you turn to him with a shrug, "Most people who are in a cult usually don't know they're in one." Max's lips part to speak and then he falters, "That's a very good point but the brotherhood still isn't a cult."

"It definitely is." You reply bored, "No, it isn't!" He fires at you with an annoyance. "You know, considering I saved your life, the least you can do is agree with me." You're aware he's becoming a little annoyed by you disagreeing with him and so he stands up, "I'm gonna go now." You nod at him, "That would be great, thank you!"

He hovers in place, "I'm leaving now!" He says but still is unmoving, looking rather unsure when you crossed your arms and raised a brow at him, "The doors right there, I'd see you out but I gotta clean this blood off my couch." At your words, Max frowns and glances at the door, "I'll get going then!" He moves a few steps towards the door and then pauses when you scoff, "You've yet to get out of my house, you lost your sense of direction, pal?"

"Can I kiss you?" He asks randomly, "Excuse me?" You're quick to ask with a raised brow. "Can I kiss you?" He asks again, this time a little more awkwardly. "Thought there's some sort of rule in your cult, no sex before marriage or something like that?" He shakes his head, "We're allowed but the brotherhood doesn't exactly allow girls to join us back at base, it's forbidden." He explains and then stares at you suddenly with wide eyes, "Oh, my god, it is a cult!" He exclaims and you laugh breathily, "Told you so..." Max takes a step closer to you now, toe to toe, as he looks at you softly, "Can I still kiss you, even though I'm in a cult?" He asks unsurely and you answer by pressing your soft lips to his, catching him off guard as he suddenly rocked back onto his heels slightly when you parted your lips, a grin on your features at his flustered face, "That answer your question?"

"Yes, yes it does."

#fallout #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #maximus fallout #fallout maximus #maximus x reader #maximus #we need more max fics out here #he's literally a sweetheart

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 25/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, hurt, soft Ben, Ben gets hurt

Word Count: 7384

A/N: This is part 25 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the days passed and you called in sick for the entire week at Vought, Ben couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a major mistake. Each day weighed heavily on him, his mind consumed by thoughts of you and the uncertain future of your relationship. He knew he had messed up, and the realization gnawed at him with each passing moment.

He tried his best not to pressure you, but every damn second without you felt like hell on earth. He missed you. And it took all of his strength to give you the space you needed.

Still, it drove him crazy. His emotions were like a whirlwind rushing up and down within him several times a day. He could hardly control himself. His chest began to glow again and again, his vision blurred and his heart began to race. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was lovesick. Heartbreak is hard for normal people, but it's even worse for America's first superhero with this past and newfound powers.

He didn't have much choice but to throw himself headfirst into work.

So as Ben continued to make sweeping changes at Vought, you found yourself confined to your hotel room, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Despite the turmoil within you, Ben's constant messages provided a small comfort. His updates on Vought's developments and the occasional meme brought a fleeting smile to your face, but deep down, you longed for more.

With each passing day, you hoped that Ben would take the next step, that he would finally express his feelings for you in a more definitive way. Yet, as the week wore on, his messages remained friendly and casual, lacking the depth and commitment you yearned for. The uncertainty of where you stood with him only added to the turmoil in your heart.

As Ben navigated the complex web of corporate politics and power struggles at Vought, his thoughts were consumed by one thing: you. Amidst the chaos and pressure of his new role, he couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gnawed at him relentlessly. Every decision he made, every move he orchestrated, was driven by the desire to exert control in a world where uncertainty loomed large.

He missed you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. Your voice echoed in his mind, your scent lingered in the air, and the memory of your touch haunted him at every turn. Despite the distractions and demands of his new position, you were never far from his thoughts. Each passing moment only served to deepen his longing for you, leaving him yearning for the day when he could hold you in his arms once more.

As Monday arrived, you found yourself steeling your nerves as you stepped back into Vought. Taking your seat next to Jay, his gaze fixed on you, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Your eyes were red and puffy, evidence of the sleepless night spent grappling with your emotions. Dark circles underscored your exhaustion, a testament to the turmoil that had consumed you in recent days.

Despite the emotional upheaval, you hadn't officially ended things with Jay. The weight of that unresolved tension hung heavy in the air, adding to the unease that settled over you as you braced yourself for another day without Ben.

Jay turned more towards you, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Hey", he said softly, his voice laced with genuine worry. "You look… rough. Are you okay? Care to explain what's been going on?".

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. Jay had been there for you during some tough times, but the truth of your feelings for Ben weighed heavily on your conscience. Taking a deep breath, you prepared to navigate the delicate balance between honesty and discretion.

Tears welled up in your eyes once more as you struggled to find the right words. "Jay, I'm so sorry", you began, your voice wavering with emotion. "You don't deserve any of this. It's not you; it's me. I'm the problem, not you".

Your heart ached with guilt as you admitted the truth, knowing that Jay had been nothing but supportive and caring throughout your tumultuous relationship.

Jay's heart sank as he saw you in distress, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a comforting embrace. His arms enveloped you, offering solace and support in your moment of vulnerability. Despite the pain he felt knowing you were hurting, his love for you remained unwavering.

As the usual chatter from your colleagues ceased, you opened your eyes, your gaze meeting Ben's imposing figure clad in his supe suit as he stood in your office doorway. The room fell silent, the weight of his presence palpable as all eyes turned to him.

His gaze was fixed solely on you, and you felt a knot form in your stomach as you instantly withdrew from Jay's embrace. Ben's presence filled the room, his eyes narrowing as he spoke with firmness in his tone.

"I need you in my office. Now", he commanded, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, radiating an aura of unmistakable anger.

As you rose to your feet, the eyes of your colleagues, including Jay's, followed you and Ben as you made your way towards the elevators. It was unusual to see Ben on this floor, and the attention from everyone around you only added to the tension in the air. The silence seemed to weigh heavily as you entered the elevator with Ben, the gazes of your coworkers lingering on you both as the doors closed.

Ben turned towards you, his expression fierce as he spoke loudly, his voice echoing in the confined space of the elevator.

"That's why you fucking left me?!", he exclaimed, his words filled with anger and hurt.

But Ben's outburst caught you off guard, and you realized he had misunderstood the situation completely. You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could utter a word, the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at Ben's office floor.

As soon as you entered the office, Ben slammed the doors shut behind you, his anger palpable in the tense atmosphere.

"I should go back down and fucking kill him!", he yelled, his voice booming with rage as he paced back and forth in front of you. His fists were still clenched tightly at his sides, his whole body vibrating with fury.

You watched him, a mixture of fear and sadness swirling inside you. "Ben, please, calm down", you pleaded, your voice trembling slightly. "It's not what you think".

Ben's anger simmered as he locked eyes with you. "Then what is it, huh?", he demanded, his voice edged with frustration. "Why did you fucking leave me?".

As you stood there, feeling small and hurt in front of Soldier Boy, you couldn't help but notice the turmoil in his eyes, despite his efforts to hold back his emotions. With a trembling voice, you yelled back at him, "I didn't leave you, Ben! You pushed me away!".

Ben's jaw clenched as he struggled to process your words. "How the fuck did I push you away?", he retorted, his voice rising with frustration. "I've been doing everything I can to make things right, to show you how much I care about you!".

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Buying a house without even talking to me about it, Ben", you replied, your voice shaking with emotion. "That's not showing me you care. It's making decisions for both of us without considering how I feel".

"I just wanted to give you something", he admitted, his voice more quiet now. "Something that would make you happy. A Home".

You took a step closer, the tension between you slowly dissipating. "I know", you replied. "But sometimes, it's not about the grand gestures. It's about the little things… like communication and honesty".

He met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and determination. "I messed up, didn't I?", he asked, his voice tinged with regret.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to express your true feelings. "Being with you is all I want, Ben", you began, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "But I need more than… a house. I need your commitment. I can't keep doing this uncertainty, wondering where we stand".

You met his gaze, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. "I want to hear you say that you love me, Ben", you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "The way I love you".

But instead of the reassurance you longed for, Ben remained silent, his expression conflicted as he processed your words. It was clear that he still wasn't ready to open up completely, leaving you feeling a familiar ache of disappointment in your heart.

“I need to know where we stand, Ben”, you urged, your voice tinged with desperation. “I can’t keep living in this limbo, not knowing if you’re truly committed to me”.

Ben sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you, you know that”, he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m not good at this… at relationships, at opening up”.

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness at his words, the realization sinking in that he still wasn’t willing to give you the commitment you needed. But despite your disappointment, you knew that pushing him further would only drive him away.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt both of you. “I’m here for you, Ben”, you began. “I want to support you and be there for you, but… as long as you can’t decide if you love me or not, we can’t be anything more than friends”.

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, and you could see the pain flicker across Ben’s face as he processed what you had just said. It was clear that your words had struck a chord with him, stirring something deep within his heart.

Ben stood there in silence, his gaze fixed on the ground as he grappled with the weight of your words. His heart felt heavy in his chest, aching with a pain he couldn't quite articulate. Despite his efforts to hold back his emotions, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying the turmoil raging within him.

He wanted to reach out to you, to tell you how much you meant to him, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the fear of rejection and the uncertainty of his own feelings. In that moment, he felt more lost and vulnerable than he ever had before.

As you stood there, watching him, he knew that he had to confront his own demons before he could ever hope to give you the love and commitment you deserved. But for now, all he could do was stand there in silence, his heart breaking with every passing moment.

Overwhelmed by your own emotions, you stumbled out of Ben's office, tears streaming down your face as you rushed toward the nearest restroom. Your chest felt tight, suffocated by the weight of disappointment and heartache. You said the words so clearly, but you also broke your own heart.

As you reached the sanctuary of the restroom, you barely made it to a stall before the overwhelming wave of emotions crashed over you. Bent over the toilet, tears mixing with the bile rising in your throat, you retched violently, your body convulsing with each heave.

It felt like an eternity before the nausea subsided, leaving you trembling and exhausted. With shaky hands, you wiped away the tears and splashed some water on your face, trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

As you made your way back to your desk, you could feel the weight of your emotions still pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The concerned glances from your colleagues only served to exacerbate your sense of vulnerability, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet their eyes. They thought Soldier Boy screwed you over a mistake.

Jay, however, was different. He could see past the facade. As you took your seat beside him, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand in a silent gesture of support.

You managed a weak smile in response, grateful for his understanding.

Jay's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he leaned in closer to you. "Are you okay?", he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I'll be fine", you replied, your voice wavering slightly. "Just… dealing with some stuff".

His brow furrowed with worry as he continued, his tone gentle. "Is it… Is Soldier Boy the guy you told me about? The one you were trying to get over?".

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal, but ultimately decided to be honest with him. "Yeah", you admitted quietly, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging Jay more into your personal drama.

Jay’s voice was sympathetic as he spoke, his expression reflecting his concern. “Soldier Boy… he’s a big deal, huh?”, he mumbled, shaking his head slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… complicated”, you replied, a hint of sadness in your voice as you thought about Ben’s tumultuous emotions.

Jay sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor as he mumbled, “Well, against him, it was predictable that I’d lose you”.

You felt a pang of guilt at his words.

“I’m sorry, Jay”, you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I never meant to hurt you”.

Jay looked up, offering you a small, sad smile. “It’s okay”, he replied, his voice tinged with resignation.

You took a deep breath. "Jay, when I started dating you, I thought Ben was dead", you confessed quietly. "I never expected to see him again, and I needed someone to help me move on. I didn't mean to lead you on or hurt you in any way".

Jay's expression softened slightly. "I get it", he replied. "It must have been hard for you, thinking he was gone".

"It was", you admitted, a hint of sadness creeping into your voice. "But that's no excuse for hurting you. I should have been honest with you from the beginning".

"It's okay", he reassured you. "I'm just glad you're okay and that we can still be friends".

You offered him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Jay", you said sincerely. "For being so understanding".

With that, the tension between you eased slightly, and you both turned your attention back to your work. You had to distract yourself from Ben somehow.

Another week passed, each day dragging on for Ben as he grappled with the overwhelming guilt and sadness that consumed him. He found himself unable to sleep, lying awake in bed for hours on end, tormented by thoughts of you and the way he had pushed you away.

His appetite disappeared, the thought of food turning his stomach as he wrestled with the emptiness that seemed to gnaw at his insides. Even his usual distractions, like spending time with prostitutes or engaging in reckless behavior, held no appeal for him. All he could think about was you, and how he had let you slip through his fingers.

It didn't even matter to him that Butcher still hadn't handed over Homelander. Normally, that would have consumed his thoughts and driven him to take action, but now it seemed insignificant compared to the ache in his heart.

Every day felt like an eternity, each moment stretching on endlessly as he grappled with the consequences of his actions. He knew he had to make things right with you, but he couldn't shake the fear that it might already be too late.

For you, that week felt like a never-ending nightmare. The pain of being apart from Ben weighed heavily on your heart, leaving you feeling hollow and empty. Each day was a struggle to get out of bed, plagued by also sleepless nights and a loss of appetite.

You couldn't shake the feeling of nausea that seemed to accompany every thought of Ben, and there were moments when you found yourself rushing to the bathroom, overcome by waves of sickness. It was as if your body was rebelling against the turmoil in your mind, unable to handle the emotional strain you were under.

The thought of Ben being unable to commit to you gnawed at you, filling you with a sense of insecurity and fear. You needed him to be with you, to reassure you that you were the only one for him, but the uncertainty of his feelings left you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Despite the overwhelming longing you felt for him, there was a part of you that feared what would happen if you let him back into your life.

Each day dragged on, the minutes ticking by slowly as you waited for some sign from Ben that he still cared.

As Monday unfolded, it felt like just another day, despite being your birthday.

The office buzzed with its usual energy, oblivious to the significance of the date for you. Your family called, and a few old friends sent text messages, but beyond that, there were no grand gestures or celebrations.

Sitting at your desk, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness amidst the routine of the day. It wasn’t the lack of gifts or attention that bothered you, but rather the absence of someone special to share the moment with.

On your lunch break, you sat on a bench at the park near vought and munched on your salad, as someone sat down besides you. It was frenchie. You haven’t talked to him in over three weeks since you were still mad.

“Hey”, Frenchie said softly, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation.

You glanced over, surprised to see him there. “Hey”, you replied, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Frenchie spoke again. “I… I know we haven’t talked in a while. And I understand if you’re still upset about what happened with Soldier Boy… But I just wanted to say… I miss our conversations”.

You sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I miss them too”, you admitted, unable to deny the truth of his words.

Frenchie hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, wrapped package. "I almost forgot", he said, his voice softer now. "Happy birthday".

Your eyes widened in surprise as you accepted the gift, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "Thank you", you murmured, touched by the unexpected gesture and the fact he remembered your birthday.

Carefully, you unwrapped the package to reveal your necklace, the one that had broken during your first fight against Homelander a year ago. But now, it looked as good as new, thanks to Frenchie's repairs.

You looked up at him, speechless for a moment. "You fixed it", you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Frenchie nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I remembered how much it meant to you", he admitted. "And I wanted to make things right… to, kinda unbreak the broken", he smiled.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to hug him, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you", you said again, your voice choked with emotion.

As you released him from the embrace, Frenchie stood up. "I have to go", he said, his voice tinged with regret. "But I hope… I hope you'll still reach out to me, even if you don't want to talk to the rest of the team".

You nodded. "I will", you promised, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you, Frenchie, for everything".

He offered you a small, reassuring smile before turning to leave, his footsteps fading away as he walked out of the park.

As you sat alone on the bench again, the necklace clutched in your hand, you thought that perhaps, with time, wounds could heal, and bonds could be strengthened once more.

With a sigh, you glanced around the empty office a few hours later, the silence weighing heavily on your shoulders. Everyone had gone home for the day, leaving you to grapple with your own thoughts and emotions.

As you gathered your things and prepared to leave, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness gnawing at your heart. The emptiness of the office seemed to amplify the sense of isolation you had been grappling with all day.

Closing your laptop and shutting down your workstation, you took one last look around the office before finally making your way to the elevators.

Feeling another sudden wave of nausea, you stumbled back from your desk, clutching your stomach as you fought to keep your composure. The queasiness intensified with each passing moment, leaving you feeling weak and unsteady on your feet.

Frantically, you searched for the restroom, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to keep the contents of your stomach at bay. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the urge to vomit growing stronger with each passing moment.

Finally reaching the restroom, you barely made it to a stall before retching uncontrollably into the toilet.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea finally passed, leaving you feeling weak and shaky. Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the floor, rinsing your mouth and splashing water on your face in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure.

As you leaned against the sink, trying to steady your breathing, you couldn't shake the nagging worry that lingered in the back of your mind. Something wasn't right, and you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that this was just the beginning of something much more serious.

With each step back to your hotel, the weight of loneliness grew heavier, the absence of Ben a constant ache in your heart.

As you walked through the streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to engulf you. The city buzzed with life around you, but you felt disconnected, lost.

You missed Ben more than ever, but deep down, you knew that staying with him wouldn’t have solved the ache in your heart.

As you finally reached your hotel room, you closed the door behind you, enveloped once again in the silence of solitude.

Your heart raced as you scanned the room, the scent of Ben´s cologne hung in the air. It was both comforting and agonizing, stirring up emotions you had been trying to suppress.

With a shaky breath, you approached the spot where the scent seemed strongest, as if hoping to find some trace of him left behind.

As you stood there, grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling inside you, a sense of sadness washed over you. It was a stark reminder of just how quickly things could change, how the presence of someone you loved could vanish in an instant.

Just then, you spotted a little box on the bed.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the small box sitting on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. With trembling fingers, you carefully unwrapped the neatly wrapped package, revealing a key and a folded note nestled inside.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read the simple message scrawled on the note: “Happy birthday, it’s all yours”.

For a moment, you were overcome with confusion, unable to comprehend the significance of the key and the cryptic message. But then it dawned on you, a sudden rush of realization flooding through you like a tidal wave.

The house.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with a mixture of emotions. Tears welled up in your eyes once again, and you cursed at yourself for allowing them to fall, for allowing Ben’s actions to have such power over your heart.

But more than anything, you cursed at Ben, for being unable to simply tell you that he loved you, for leaving you to decipher his feelings through cryptic gestures and hidden messages.

With a shaky breath, you wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks, feeling a surge of anger bubbling up inside you. How could he have been so cowardly, so unwilling to confront his own emotions and share them with you?

The weight of his absence felt heavier than ever.

Despite the anger and frustration simmering within you, a part of you couldn't help but long for his comforting embrace, his reassuring presence by your side.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, tempted to reach out to him, to confront him about his cowardice and demand answers for his actions. But as quickly as the impulse arose, you pushed it aside, knowing deep down that reaching out to him would only prolonging the pain and heartache.

Instead, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering back to the realization that Ben had known your birthday without ever needing to ask.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone aside, knowing that dwelling on the past would only bring more pain. But even as you tried to push aside the longing for his presence, you couldn't shake the yearning for him to be there with you, to hold you close and chase away the loneliness that threatened to consume you.

In the silence of the empty hotel room, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, a moment to admit to yourself that despite everything, you still wished he was there with you.

Glancing at the clock, you realized that it wasn't terribly late. Yet, the weight of the day's events and the absence of anyone to celebrate your birthday with left you feeling drained and disheartened.

With a heavy sigh, you made the decision to retreat to bed, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep. The thought of spending any more time alone with your thoughts seemed unbearable, and the prospect of facing another moment of loneliness was too much to bear.

As you slipped beneath the covers, exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, pulling you into the embrace of darkness. Closing your eyes, you sought refuge from your emotions that threatened to overwhelm you, hoping that sleep would offer some respite from the ache in your heart.

With each passing moment, the world around you faded into oblivion, and for a brief moment, you found a fleeting sense of peace.

Ben's footsteps were silent as he entered your room a few hours later, the weight of his actions heavy on his mind. The dim moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your sleeping form.

Standing by the bed, Ben's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Guilt, remorse, and an overwhelming longing to see you filled him as he watched you sleep peacefully. He needed to be near you, to see you, even if only for a moment.

Quietly, he approached the bed, his gaze fixed on you. His hand hovered over yours, tempted to reach out and touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if his presence would only cause you more pain.

For a moment, he simply stood there, lost in the sight of you, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed softly. Despite the mistakes he had made, he couldn't deny what he felt for you.

With a heavy heart, Ben finally turned to leave, knowing that now was not the time for reconciliation. You needed your rest, and he needed to find a way to make things right, to prove to you that he was capable of change.

As you stood in the office kitchen the next day, filling up a glass of water, you were startled by the sound of the door closing behind you. Turning around, you found yourself face to face with Ben, his presence unexpected yet undeniable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable as you met each other's gaze. It was as if the weight of everything that had transpired hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the space between you.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his voice quiet yet filled with emotion. "I couldn't stay away", he admitted, his words carrying the weight of his remorse and longing.

You regarded him warily, unsure of how to respond to his sudden appearance.

With a sigh, you set the glass of water aside, turning to face him fully. "What do you want, Ben?", you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and vulnerability.

"I know I messed up, but I fucking need you (y/n). Only you, okay?".

His words hung in the air between you, the weight of his sincerity and determination evident in every syllable.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again as you listened to Ben’s earnest plea. His words tugged at your heartstrings, igniting a glimmer of hope within you, but beneath the surface, there lingered a deep-seated pain that refused to be ignored.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Ben’s gaze, your voice trembling with emotion. “Ben, I… I want to believe you”, you began, your words halting as you struggled to find the right ones. “But until you can’t even say you’re sorry, I can’t do this. I need more than just empty promises. I need you to let me in, to show me your emotions, to tell me what you truly feel”.

Ben’s expression faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he searched for the right response.

As Ben's expression faltered, you could sense the struggle within him, the conflict between his desire to make things right and his inability to express his emotions openly. His uncertainty mirrored your own.

Instead of addressing your plea for him to confront his feelings, Ben's voice wavered as he spoke, his words a clumsy attempt to change the subject. "Did you… Did you get my present?", he asked, his tone hesitant, his eyes flickering with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

His question caught you off guard, a sharp contrast to the weighty conversation you had been having just moments before. The sudden shift in focus left you feeling disoriented, unsure of how to respond to his attempt at diversion.

Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I did", you replied, your words tinged with a hint of sadness.

Ben's gaze softened, his heart aching to touch you, to wipe away your tears and ease the pain he had caused. But despite his longing, he remained rooted in place, unable to bridge the emotional distance that separated you.

For a moment, silence enveloped you both, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Unable to resist the pull of his emotions any longer, he reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was tender, his thumb brushing away the tears that stained your cheeks.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. But as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you sensed a shift in his demeanor, a sudden realization dawning in his eyes.

"Hey", he murmured softly, his voice tinged with curiosity as he studied your face intently. "You smell… kinda funny… minty".

His words caught you off guard, the unexpected observation pulling you out of the emotional haze that had enveloped you. You blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond to his comment.

Beneath the surface, however, Ben's mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and memories, his senses suddenly overwhelmed by the familiar scent that clung to you. It was a scent he knew all too well.

Confusion clouded your expression as you pulled back slightly from Ben's touch, his words leaving you bewildered.

"Ben, what are you talking about?", you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.

Ben's expression softened. "I don't know", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "It's just… familiar, somehow. Your scent".

Before you could press him for more answers, a sudden thought crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but voice it.

"When was the last time you slept, Ben?", you asked, your concern evident in your voice. "You look exhausted".

Ben's response was a shrug. "I don't fucking know", he rolled his eyes. "Maybe Monday, maybe Sunday".

The admission sent a pang of worry through you, the realization of just how much Ben had been struggling weighing heavily on your heart.

Ben sighed deeply, a sense of resignation settling over him as he realized that his attempts to reconnect with you were falling short. Despite his longing for reconciliation, he knew that he wouldn’t get anywhere with you in his current state.

“Just to go to the fucking house. It’s safer for you to stay there”.

You swallowed hard. With a resigned nod, you acknowledged the urgency in his plea, understanding that there was more at stake than just your fractured relationship.

"Okay", you murmured softly. "I'll go to the house".

As you turned to leave the kitchen, a surge of concern washed over you, prompted by the weary exhaustion etched into Ben's features. Despite the tension between you, a part of you couldn't ignore the worry gnawing at your conscience, the need to ensure his well-being outweighing the hurt you felt.

But before you could voice your concern, you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Instead, you simply met Ben's gaze, your eyes reflecting the depth of your concern.

"You need to sleep, Ben", you said gently, your voice filled with quiet insistence. "Take care of yourself."

With that, you turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

With the day's work behind you and Ben's plea echoing in your mind, you made your way to the hotel lobby, your bag slung over your shoulder. The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on your shoulders as you prepared to face whatever awaited you at your old apartment.

Exiting the hotel, you hailed a cab and directed the driver to take you to your former residence. The familiar sights and sounds of the city passed by in a blur as you rode in silence, your thoughts consumed by the events of the day.

As the cab pulled up outside your old apartment building, you sighed. Gathering your resolve, you stepped out onto the sidewalk and made your way inside.

The familiar corridors felt strangely empty as you made your way to your former apartment, the silence broken only by the echo of your footsteps. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside.

With a heavy heart, you began the task of packing up the remainder of your belongings. As you worked, the hours slipped away, the sun sinking lower in the sky with each passing moment.

Finally, as the last box was packed and your car loaded with your belongings, you took one last look around your empty room.

With a deep breath, you closed the door behind you and made your way to your car.

As you stepped outside, your thoughts consumed by the events of the day, you were startled to see Annie and Hughie walking towards you. Their unexpected presence caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but tense up as they approached.

“Hey”, Hughie greeted, his voice hesitant as he met your gaze. “Are you… Are you moving out of the apartment?”

You nodded tersely, the tension between you palpable. The rift between you and the team had grown too wide to ignore, and staying in the apartment no longer felt like an option.

“Yeah”, you replied shortly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “I am”.

Annie’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she regarded you. “Is everything okay?”, she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to them.

“I’m fine”, you replied curtly, the words coming out sharper than intended. “Just… Just need some space”.

Annie took a step closer, her eyes reflecting a mix of regret and sincerity. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for lying to you", she began, her voice soft with remorse. "We never meant to hurt you".

But despite her apology, you couldn't bring yourself to accept it.

"I appreciate the apology, Annie", you replied coldly. "But sorry doesn't change what happened. It doesn't erase the fact that you lied to me, that you betrayed my trust".

Annie's expression fell, a sense of helplessness creeping into her features as she realized the depth of your pain. "I know", she whispered. "And I understand if you can't forgive us. But please know that I never meant to hurt you".

You met her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. Despite the bitterness that still lingered within you, a part of you couldn't help but acknowledge the sincerity in her eyes. But even as you stood there, grappling with conflicting emotions, you knew that forgiveness wouldn't come easily, if it came at all.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Annie and Hughie, your resolve firm as you made your way to your car.

With a heavy heart and a sense of determination, you drove towards the house Ben had urged you to go to. As you parked your car in front of the residence, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. But despite the apprehension that gnawed at your insides, you knew that staying here was the safest option for now.

Gathering your belongings, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door. The key that Ben had given you felt heavy in your hand as you unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The house was quiet. But as you walked through the rooms, a sense of calm settled over you. This was your sanctuary now, a place where you could find solace amidst the chaos that had consumed your life.

With a determined sigh, you began to unpack your belongings, each item finding its place in this new, unfamiliar space.

This was your new beginning, a chance to rebuild and redefine.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you found a big birthday cake on the table, together with another little box.

Surprised by the sight, you approached the table slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity. The birthday cake stood proudly in the center.

Next to the cake sat a small box, meticulously wrapped in beautiful paper adorned with a delicate bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out to pick it up.

Carefully, you began to unwrap the package, your breath catching in your throat as you revealed the contents within.

As you peeled away the layers of wrapping paper, your breath caught in your throat as you beheld the contents of the box. Nestled within was a delicate necklace, its design exquisite and adorned with intricate details.

Your fingers traced the smooth curves of the pendant, marveling at the craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. A diamond “S” adorned the back, while a majestic eagle with sparkling diamonds adorned the front.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you couldn’t help but feel a sense of amusement at Ben’s choice of design. The symbolism was not lost on you - the “S” representing his name as a supe, and the eagle, a nod to Ben’s supe suit. It was his way of showing that you still belonged to him.

With a gentle sigh, you fastened the necklace around your neck, the cool metal resting against your skin like a reassuring embrace.

With the necklace now adorning your neck, you took out your phone. Your fingers hovering over the screen as you composed a text to Ben.

"Thank you for the beautiful necklace", you typed. "It's stunning, and I truly appreciate the thought behind it".

With a deep breath, you hit send, the message disappearing into the digital ether as you waited for a response. The seconds stretched into minutes, the silence of the house enveloping you as you anxiously awaited Ben's reply.

Finally, a notification chimed, signaling a new message. You eagerly opened it, your heart racing with anticipation.

Ben's response was swift.

"I'm glad you liked it", he wrote. "I hope there was a little smile on that beautiful lips of yours, even if just for a moment".

A pang of longing washed over you at his words. With a sigh, you set your phone down.

An hour later you were sitting on the bed, your heart skipping a beat when you received another text from Ben. The words "I miss you" illuminated on your phone screen. It was a simple phrase, but it carried a weight of emotion that left you breathless.

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, the gravity of Ben's admission sinking in. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings since the rift between you had formed, and it left you feeling both vulnerable and hopeful.

With trembling fingers, you typed out a response, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the right words.

"I miss you too", you wrote, the words spilling from you with a sense of raw honesty. "More than you know".

As you hit send, a sense of anticipation washed over you, mingled with a tinge of apprehension. The silence that followed was almost palpable, the weight of Ben's response hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Finally, a notification chimed. With bated breath, you opened it, your heart racing.

Ben's words were filled with vulnerability and longing, a glimpse into the depths of his emotions that he had kept hidden for so long.

“I know I’m not good with words”, he wrote. “But I want you to know that I’m trying, for you. I want to be better, to be the man you deserve”.

Your heart swelled with a mix of emotions as you read his message, the weight of his admission weighing heavily on your mind. Despite the hurt and frustration that had led to your decision to take a break, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope.

"I hope so", you typed, your fingers hesitating over the screen before hitting send. It was a simple response, but it carried the weight of your uncertainty and longing.

As you awaited Ben's reply, another wave of nausea washed over you, causing your stomach to churn with discomfort. With a sense of urgency, you set your phone down and hurried to the bathroom, the overwhelming sensation of sickness threatening to overtake you.

Barely making it to the toilet in time, you doubled over in nausea, your body wracked with involuntary spasms. It was a stark reminder of the physical toll that the emotional turmoil had taken on you, a manifestation of the stress and uncertainty that had consumed your life in recent days.

As you struggled to regain your composure, a sense of frustration washed over you, mingled with a deep-seated exhaustion.

———————————

A/N: Well, that was definitely not my favorite chapter and I found it extremely difficult to write it… but I'm looking forward to the next chapters. Stay tuned! Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x21 Snow Drifts (Part 1)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 334

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.

Note #2: Thank you to @hollyethecurious for this prompt!

The first time he did it, it was instinctual.  Emma knew that. Regina’s (or the Evil Queen’s or…whatever) guards came galloping down the dirt road, and Killian simply acted, grabbing her, pulling her behind a tree, covering her body with his. It had shocked her for a moment until she realized what he was doing and why.

(Not to mention the shock to her system it was to feel his warmth, his scent, him enveloping her, but that was something she was determined not to dwell upon.)

The second time, she was starting to get suspicious.  No more than five minutes after the incident with the queen, he’d pinned her against another tree, and this time he’d lingered for a few seconds longer.

(Surely there must be some cardiac ramifications to her heart beating so quickly.)

“My apologies, Swan,” he’d said with a smirk that looked anything but repentant.  “I thought I heard the guards again.”

By the third time it happened, she knew it was deliberate.

He'd grabbed her, tucked her in front of him and placed his hands beside her head.

(Had it Suddenly gotten  a lot hotter here in the Enchanted Forest?)

“What…” her voice sounded far too breathless.  She cleared her throat and started again. “What are you doing?”

“I heard something,” Killian insisted.

A moment later a tiny brown rabbit hopped placidly past, and Emma let out a peal of laughter.

“Seriously Hook? A bunny?” She asked, mirth still coloring her tone as he stepped back and she turned around to look at him.

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her.  “One can't be too careful, Love. Rabbits can be bloody terrifying.”

Her peal of laughter brought a genuine smile to his face as they resumed their trek.

They were certainly in a bad situation, trapped in the past like this, but if she had to be here, she certainly could have had a worse companion.

Even if he did flirt shamelessly and manufacture reasons to embrace her.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #3x21 snow drifts #captain swan fanfiction #my fanfiction #he is a shameless flirt #but we love him #and so does Emma even if she won't admit it

[jo-harrington]

Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire

November 10, 1986

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."

"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."

"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."

"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."

Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.

Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.

Let you.

Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.

But somehow also separately from you.

And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.

Together.

But not really.

If there was anything left of you.

It wouldn't do to think of that today though.

Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.

It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.

It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.

You didn’t dare go up yourself though.

Not yet.

Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”

Because you were not ok.

You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.

If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.

An impossible request.

The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.

“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”

You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.

“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.

Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.

All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.

And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.

Well, not doom.

Fate.

Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.

Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.

With Nonna.

With Eddie.

So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...

You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.

Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.

"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.

"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.

"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.

You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.

There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.

Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.

And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?

"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.

"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."

"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.

"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"

"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."

The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.

"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."

You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.

The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.

You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.

"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."

Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.

Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.

The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.

But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.

You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.

"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.

The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.

"Tomorrow..."

November 6, 1983

Twang.

He enjoyed it.

Twang.

Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.

Twang.

Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.

He wasn't Eddie anymore though.

So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.

"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."

He never gave in though.

Could never give in.

It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.

And it was enough. It had to be enough.

Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.

"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."

He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.

Twang.

He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.

He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.

He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.

You might very well be his downfall one day.

And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.

He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.

For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.

Until everything started to shake.

The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.

There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.

Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.

Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?

Eddie didn't hesitate.

He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.

To get away from you as quickly as he could.

You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.

“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x oc #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic

[dudeitiskarev]

If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner

My One and Only prequel

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.

Word count: 10.7k

Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!

Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂‍↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!

MASTERLIST

There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand. 

A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring. 

And how wrong you were…

It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one. 

If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out. 

He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.

You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly. 

You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity. 

You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman. 

The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?

You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had. 

You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.

“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap. 

It was past three in the morning. 

“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said. 

And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.  

You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open. 

Not a single soul received you.

You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night). 

You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on. 

The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles. 

Your fucking candles.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down. 

Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled. 

This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.

You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do. 

You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.

You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone. 

The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.

Shit. 

You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm. 

You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.

How long has he been there?

“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.

So you didn’t sleep through your alarm. 

“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”

“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened. 

He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.

But he let you. 

“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”

“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself. 

It was cold now.

“You can sleep for another hour,” he added. 

“We don’t have a case?” 

“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”

Then why was he here so early?

You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”

“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper. 

Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag. 

You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”

You looked at him. There was that soft look again.

“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look. 

He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.

“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.

“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”

The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending. 

Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders. 

Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay. 

Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.

Right now, he was your boss, not your friend. 

The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.

“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented. 

You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.

Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.

You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people. 

These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex. 

And they got on your nerves. 

Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”

“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”

“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”

There was his big brother attitude.

You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”

“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern. 

You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one. 

“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”

You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah. 

“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.

Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.” 

He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say. 

The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day. 

Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee. 

Your stomach rumbled. 

Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.” 

“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore. 

“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails. 

You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan. 

“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows. 

“What did he tell you, Morgan?”

“That you caught him cheating.” 

The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.  

You tore your eyes off him and sighed.

“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed. 

“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”

“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”

“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose. 

You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”

“It’s tough.” 

“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.

They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.

“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”

You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.” 

Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”

“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”

“Oh, believe me, it is.”

You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!” 

“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”

“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.

“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”

“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”

“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”

“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”

On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier). 

You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled.  You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.

You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.

His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’. 

Then you hung up.

“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm. 

You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more. 

“Shh. It’s okay.” 

Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this. 

Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.

You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.

“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.

His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face. 

“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.

You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase. 

“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him. 

“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”

After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him. 

“No.”

Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you). 

You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.

“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.

“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.

“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”

“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less. 

“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror. 

“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”

“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.

“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.

“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink. 

“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier. 

“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”

“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”

“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.” 

A light bulb lit up over your head right then. 

“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”

You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste. 

On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.

You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—

Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.

You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.

It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little. 

Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off. 

“Hm?” you raised your brows.

“Are you planning on going home now?” 

You sighed. “I have to.”

“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”

“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him. 

“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.

You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there? 

“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.

You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left. 

To never come back.

“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.

“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”

“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”

“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”

“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”

“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”

Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.  

You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks. 

You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.

“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”

“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”

“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”

You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver. 

The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely. 

Loud noises dragged you out of it.

You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through. 

“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.

“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”

Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”

“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”

“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.” 

Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio. 

“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.

It didn’t feel like it, though.

“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.

“I did not,” you laughed a little. 

You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.

Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right. 

There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching. 

“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.

“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”

You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case. 

Minutes later, your phone buzzed.

There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you. 

Two beds? you texted back right away.

King, he replied.

Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.

I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?

Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.

You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.

He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.

“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”

“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car. 

Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running. 

The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on

You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers. 

“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.

“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.

You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew. 

You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater. 

“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.

Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often. 

“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”

He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.  

You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.

You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.

How’s your head? Morgan texted.

Better. Your shoulder?

I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going? 

The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night. 

Sharing a room with the boss? ;) 

You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied. 

Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.

You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. 

You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”

You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.

“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.

“They said it’s gonna last all night.”

Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once. 

“Everything okay?” You had to ask.

He gave you a look. 

Everything was not okay.

He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite. 

“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?  

“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”

“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows. 

“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”

“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.” 

You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”

His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.

“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”

When you were recently heartbroken too. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”

“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.” 

“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”

“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.

You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added. 

“Younger?” He raised his brows. 

“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”

“That’s not much younger than you.” 

“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”

He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“

“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”

“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.” 

You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.

“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.

“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”

“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows. 

The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too. 

You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.  

Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day. 

And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.

Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.

“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”

Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.

Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?

“Maybe some other time?” He asked.

Your stomach fluttered. 

“Definitely.”

Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived. 

The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch. 

After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.

You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed? 

The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss. 

Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark. 

That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.

“You’re late,” you whispered back.

“Is Reid here?”

“No, but we did all the work.”

“I’m… the boss for a reason.”

You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.

“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly. 

Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”

It’s okay, he whispered. 

That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.

You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you. 

There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind. 

Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay. 

And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours. 

Everyone had left, even the janitors. 

Everyone except for Hotch, of course. 

You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.

You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room. 

You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows. 

“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”

He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”

You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.

“I don’t think so.”

“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.

He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”

You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.

“Choose,” he said. 

You laughed. “What?” 

“Our next case.”

“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”

“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point. 

Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”

“It’s hard.” 

“And you do it every time.”

Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke. 

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest. 

“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.  

Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”

“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation. 

“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”

“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”

Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”

“You’re also… good at sports?”

“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again. 

You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).

He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face. 

The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin. 

“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”

He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing? 

A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his. 

His shaky breath ghosted your lips. 

Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?

You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.

“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.

Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you. 

God, what have you done?

Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours. 

At first.

One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours. 

A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it. 

“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.

You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing. 

He was so needy for you.

This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub. 

You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air. 

“Aaron.” 

You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them. 

He liked it. He loved it. 

You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all. 

His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth. 

Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth. 

You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips. 

“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.

His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug. 

A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for. 

“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt. 

He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back. 

“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.

Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. 

You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.

You locked the door.  

“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear. 

All you could do was nod. 

He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand. 

No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you. 

To you. 

The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere. 

He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite. 

You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. 

There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.

He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you. 

He was driving you insane, too.  

“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss. 

You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.

“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”

He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.

But you were growing desperate. 

“Please, Hotch.”

He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal. 

“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered. 

You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.

God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it. 

Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months. 

This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss. 

You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin. 

His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot. 

“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist. 

He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever

You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.

Bend over, he whispered on your lips. 

He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.

He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky. 

He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.

He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth. 

This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.

There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you. 

Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you. 

You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face. 

You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.

“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue. 

You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing. 

“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you. 

You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.” 

“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip

You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.  

“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”

You kissed him, and he kissed you back.

“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 

“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.

You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.

“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.

That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth. 

You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you. 

I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me. 

You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting. 

I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me

Good, he replied.

Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it. 

He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen. 

So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once. 

But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours. 

There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.

There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic. 

Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind. 

And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified. 

They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything. 

He often had an expression of everlasting love. 

At least, you liked to think that way. 

“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.

You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”

You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”

“I think we should bring a date.”

“Why?”

“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”

“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear. 

“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.

“Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

You laughed again. 

You loved it.

Loved him. 

I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️‍🔥

#I’m so excited for this one pls don’t let it flop #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic

[trashforhockeyguys]

Vienna Waits For You -8- William Nylander

“Miss Bradshaw Krietzburg, I think it’s very possible that this will work in our favor.”

“Mr. Jefferies, all due respect, but I need to know that it will work. We’ve combed over every line of these contracts.”

“Is there really no loophole she can exploit?” Jackson questioned, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Well, there is one option, although it requires radical action.”

It took Avalyn two months to finally decide to take action against her management team. Jackson was able to hire a lawyer on her behalf, so that her team wouldn’t know anything about it. Together, the three of them met weekly, sometimes more than once, to try to find a way to rid Avalyn of her management. 

She hadn’t spoken to William since that night in her apartment. They were like strangers to each other again, only seeing one another when it came to work related functions. But everytime she saw him from across the room, or on the ice during a game, her chest hurt. She missed seeing him all of the time, missed being with him and talking to him. 

Jackson walked out of the small office with Ava. Both of them had a day off from filming, although they were nearing a break that would last a few weeks. Production wanted to finalize the first two episodes and present them to the studio to make sure that they’d be allowed to continue before finishing off the season. 

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Jackson asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

Jackson had been grasping at straws for weeks, doing everything he could to get Avalyn to show interest in anything. The only thing she could focus on outside of filming, was doing everything in her power to get out from underneath her parents. Everything else was just…nothing to her. 

The makeup team had a hell of a time making her look better on screen than she did in real life now. Her cheeks hollowed out a little more again, with large dark circles under her eyes. He knew she didn’t sleep much, or eat more than the bare minimum. She was slipping, and there was little he could do other than keep throwing out a rope and hoping she’d grab it one day.

“No, it's best if I don’t. Besides, I want to make sure I have everything down before the shoot on Monday,” She replied, pulling her coat closer to her body. 

“Avey, you have to give yourself a break at some point. You can’t keep working yourself like this.”

She smiled sadly at Jackson, “I keep working so I don’t have time to think.”

He pulled her close, holding her head against his chest in an effort to block out the world, “I wish I could just fix it all for you. God, I wish you didn’t have to deal with any of this anymore.”

She held onto him, feeling relaxed in his arms, “I know. But I’ll be okay Jacks. We’ll find a way out of my contracts.” 

She pulled away enough to see his face. Avalyn tried not to pay much attention to the worried look he had, instead she brushed some of his long hair away from his eyes and tried her best to smile, “Go to the game. Have some fun.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep?” He seemed to beg her, “Don’t obsess over the scripts all night.”

“I’ll do my best. Now go, I don’t want you to miss anything.” She shooed him away, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

She forces a smile as she makes her way out of the office. For the past month it felt like she couldn't breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. She tried to fight it, but the unbearable pressure from her parents was getting worse. 

Jefferies thought that maybe she could sue them for her rights, or something like that. But she was afraid of what would happen if she took things to a court, because of how nasty they could get. She knew first hand how vicious they could be when they wanted to be. 

Her phone going off drew her out of her thoughts, she pulled it out of her pocket and answered it without even paying attention to who was calling. 

“Avalyn Bradshaw Kiretzburg.”

“Do you always answer your phone that way?” 

She feels her shoulders sag at the sound of his voice, slowly breaking down every barrier she spent the last several weeks trying to build. She leaned against the wall in the hallway leading to her apartment. She hadn’t talked to him since that night in her apartment. The news about the show broke, she went on several more talk shows with the cast. Her parents scrambled to make it seem like this was something they approved of. But the reception was incredible, everyone seemed to be excited about the new hockey show hitting streaming services within the year. It made Avalyn incredibly proud to be a part of it. 

“Only when I don’t pay attention to who’s calling,” She admitted shyly. 

“Ah, so that’s why you picked up,” He laughs, filling her ears with the wonderful sound. 

“You know we can’t do this,” she sighed, digging in her pocket for her keys. 

“No, I just know you say we can’t,” He rebutted, “I don’t care much about what your parents think.”

“I care too much about you,” She shakes her head, “My dad could have your career ended with a single phone call.”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” She can picture his smile as he shakes his head, “Anyway, I wanted to see if you’re coming to the game tonight.” 

“You know I won’t be there,” She tells him softly, “It would cause too many questions. Jackson though, he’ll be there with some of the other cast members.” 

“So you can’t come because?” 

“People are already questioning those pictures of us from a little while back,” She rushed to explain, “I can’t give anyone a reason to look closer. I can’t give them a reason to look at you.” 

“So, more of your self preservation bullshit,” He surmised, “Got it.”

“Will-” 

“Look, I like you Ava, you know that. But I can’t wait for you to decide to live your life,” He informs her, “You have to make that decision. No one can make it for you.” 

“Willy I-” 

“I gotta go, game is getting ready to start. Just wanted to hear your voice before I got on the ice.” 

She wanted to say more. Wanted to beg for him to wait for you to get out from underneath your parents. She was so close she could taste freedom. She just wasn’t sure how to get it, no matter how badly she wanted it.

 So instead she gave it another week, waiting for her next meeting with Mr. Jefferies, when she finally asked what the most radical thing to do would be. He took his time explaining how many moving parts this plan would entail, and how important it was that it go off without a hitch. No one outside of the room could know about it. All she knew is she wanted to be free. 

Avalyn wanted to be rid of her parents once and for all. No matter what it might mean for her career. Jackson was ready to talk to his agent and see if they’d be willing to take Avalyn on as a client, provided they would sign an NDA beforehand, so they couldn’t tell anyone else about this either. 

She longed to tell William. Longed to tell him that she was trying to live her life to the best of her ability. But she just needed to get through the next month and then everything would be different. 

“I’ll need a place to crash, off the grid, once news breaks,” Avalyn stated. 

“What about Rose’s place? The homestead with her family?” Jackson questioned, “She’s coming to guest star on the show next week, we can talk to her.” 

“I don’t want to drag Ro into this though,” Ava sighs. 

“You know she’ll be happy to help. You’ll be safe there, no one even knows where she lives.” 

Avalyn sinks further into her seat, knowing her friend was right. Roisin Quinnlyn, or more famously known as  Rose Quinn was a famous singer and actress and a good friend of Avalyn and Jackson’s. One of the only ones left after Margot’s tirade. She stuck with them throughout all of it, never once turning her back on them. 

Rose was the daughter of Irish immigrant parents, who then brought her grandparents over as well. The family had a homestead of sorts in the state of New York, tucked away where no one really knows. The locals don’t talk about her being there, in fact they protect her in every way that they possibly could. 

Avalyn realized it was one of the few places she actually felt at home. Aside from the home she was slowly making for herself here in Toronto. 

“Yeah, okay,” She finally agrees, “Make the arrangements.” 

Jackson finally relaxes in his chair, knowing his best friend would be free soon. He hated seeing what her parents did to her all of these years. Hated seeing how they broke her down and stole her spirit. He thought some of it had come back when she moved here for the show, but he watched as it slowly disappeared again. 

“Good,” Jacks smiled, “I’ll call Rose tonight and see if she’s game. But she hates your parents as much as we do, so I’m sure she’ll be down to cause some trouble.” 

“You and Rose only cause trouble,” Avalyn rolled her eyes. 

He smiled again, big and bright at her. Showing off his dimples. There was a pang in Avalyn’s chest at the thought that they wouldn’t have to fake date anymore, which meant she wouldn’t see as much of him when they weren’t filming together. She was selfish in the way that she wanted to keep him in her life as much as she possibly could. She loved him, in more ways than one. 

“It’ll be good to see her again though,” He adds in, “It’s been a while.” 

Rose was just coming off the back of a world tour, which sold out every venue. Avalyn and Jackson were lucky enough to catch one of her shows in LA before she went for her European leg. You were in awe of your friend as you watched her on stage, you loved watching her do what she loved. 

“You should talk to Willy,” Jackson said as the two of them made their way back to her apartment, “He really misses you.” 

“I know he does,” She said softly, “I miss him too, but I can’t risk his career, not when I’m so close to getting out.” 

“So after it’s all over? Will you talk to him then?” He asks. 

“I’ll do more than just talk to him,” She admits, “I’ll get on my knees and beg for him.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever begged for anything,” Jackson lets out a laugh.

She shakes her head, “I begged for him before, begged for my parents to leave him alone. It was the first time I tried to get my way with them.” 

Jackson wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, “We’ll get you through this. But right now, there are people taking pictures of us, so shut up and kiss me like you love me.” 

“I do love you,” She rolled her eyes, but stood on her tiptoes so she could reach his lips. 

It didn’t feel the same as kissing William. There was no spark with Jacks. Never had been. Anything they did together, they did because they were made to, or it was just safest to do it with one another. They had sex together because it was safe to do so. The other party wouldn't sell the story or anything. Rose and William were the only ones who knew it even happened. 

“I love you,” She forced herself to say overly lovingly. 

“I love you too,” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, in his eyes too, “C’mon, let's get you home.”

#nhl imagines #nicolewritesthings #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander imagines #william nylander x reader #william nylander x oc #william nylander fanfic #william nylander fan fiction

[dykefaggotry]

someone: are you okay

me: so in 1964 john lennon wrote one of his only love ballads, "if I fell" and called it auto biographical even though it doesn't match w any of his public relationships. the lyrics can easily be flipped to be about him pining for someone already in a relationship with a woman which would most likely be a man (as seen in "across the universe" where they did the song from a woman's pov to a man without changing the lyrics and it still worked). he wrote the full lyrics for the first time on the inside of a valentines day card and in the corner you can see his handwriting that says "to: paul with love" with an arrow pointing inside and some doodled hearts. it was auctioned off in the 2000s, but the description only says it was written on a plane on a card "given to paul" as a spare paper, not acknowledging the little dedication with the hearts. years later he referred to it as a "silly love song," referring back to paul's song that was in turn referring to his mocking comments. and that's why he's a fa-

#all of my friends the last two days having to hear me rant about this #and only get worse when I zoomed in and found that dedication and almost threw up #I'm sorry mutuals you're all suffering w me #block every mention u can think of I'm going Crazy #mclennon

[arturleclerc]

Monaco '22 / Suzuka '24

#my gifs are getting worse and worse by the day :( #maxiel #q

[booasaur]

wtFOCK - 7x01

#wtfockedit #wtfock #anais davis #bobbie de bruyn #laura bekaert #nell cattrysse #wtfock 7x01 #wtfock spoilers #anobbie #femslash related stuff #meet-cute :> #I'm back! worse than ever #get ready for more random pauses and unanswered asks :x #this time with no vacation as the reason #but I saw on my phone that I'd spent MORE than 56 hours on twitter this last week #that's just...I can't keep that doing that #so I'll check in on things routinely but maybe not to the tune of 8 hours a day #anyway I was somewhat intrigued at the start of this ep and then unsure about the Bad Girl trope #though I was like well these poor skams how many different teen stories can they tell #but the citrus twist at the end??? #I cackled and am now quite curious to see how this plays out #I guess they got at least one more story #asks are open btw but I'm still catching up on: #TMS; WOT; boiling point; khufiya; gen v; everything now; usher; while the men are away; and neon #I'm caught up on invasion and doom patrol and general hospital though lol

[dossei-dossei]

#yukigumi #takarazuka #ayakaze sakina #asami jun #yumeshiro aya #sakiaya #sakiaasa #boiled doyle on the toil trail #gifs #my gifs #doyle #i love them dearly #was gonna make a bunch of gifs from the shonichi footage but i got lazy so this is all i have #might make more at some point idk #for now take these #saki problem gets worse every day….