#a few months later she runs into her and is floored. she was always reckless when they were kids. Mary never imagined that she’d make it

[special-agent-sass]

Running Back To You

Smut

Y/N revved the engine of her blue 1969 Dodge Challenger and floored the gas pedal, speeding down the open Montana highway. The powerful V8 Hemi roared as the landscape blurred past in a mix of browns, greens, and blues. This was her happy place, just her and the road.

It had been a year since she left DC, since she left him. After their blowout fight, she just couldn't stay there anymore, not with Gibbs. The tension between them had been building for months, both at work and in their secret relationship. She was too wild, too reckless for the stoic Marine. He wanted to tame her, and she refused to be caged.

So she came back home, back to Big Sky country where the wide open spaces matched the freedom in her soul. She started over, opened her own shop just like she always dreamed. Her days were filled with the sound of wrenches turning and classic engines rumbling back to life.

But some nights, when she lay alone in bed, she missed the warmth of Gibbs’ strong arms around her. She missed the feeling of his calloused hands gripping her hips as he took her hard against the basement wall. The way he commanded her with a simple “Y/N” in that gravelly voice.

She thought she could forget him, but a year later her heart still raced for Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

As she crossed into the town limits, Y/N sighed and slowed the Challenger to a more reasonable speed. She had a stop to make before heading home.

The familiar neon sign of the local dive bar glowed in the approaching dusk. She killed the engine and pocketed the keys before heading inside, the scent of stale beer and cigarettes welcoming her back.

She nodded at the bartender as she approached an empty stool at the end of the bar. Within minutes, a cold longneck was waiting for her. Y/N took a long pull and tried not to stare at the handsome cowboy chatting up the redhead a few stools down.

“Now what’s a pretty little lady like you doing in a place like this all alone?”

The cowboy slid onto the stool next to her, giving her a smile that was probably meant to be charming but just came across as sleazy.

“Just looking to enjoy my beer in peace,” Y/N said evenly, not giving him much attention.

But the cowboy wasn’t deterred that easily. He leaned in closer. “A woman like you oughta have a man to keep her company. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink and show you a good time?”

Y/N clenched her jaw, reigning in her temper. “No thanks,” she said sharply.

The man was persistent, though, reaching out to touch her arm. “Oh come on sugar, don’t be like tha—”

“The lady said no.”

A rough, familiar voice interrupted the cowboy’s slurred words. Y/N’s heart leaped as she looked up to see Gibbs standing behind the man, ice blue eyes flashing. The cowboy scowled but seemed to think better of arguing with the intimidating older man and tipped his hat to Y/N before departing.

“Didn’t need your help, I had it handled,” Y/N muttered, trying to ignore the way her body was already reacting to Gibbs’ close presence.

“I know you did,” Gibbs said, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “Just didn’t want to watch that ass paw at my woman any longer.”

Y/N swallowed hard at his words. They stared at each other for a long moment, the air electric between them.

“Wanna get out of here?” Gibbs asked gruffly.

Y/N nodded, tossing some bills on the bar before following him outside into the cool night air. They got into his truck, the old Ford rumbling to life and kicking up dust as they headed for her house on the edge of town.

As soon as they were inside, Gibbs pressed her up against the door, kissing her fiercely. Y/N moaned into his mouth, feeling like she could finally breathe again after so long without him.

“Missed you, Y/N,” Gibbs growled against her neck as he sucked a mark into her skin. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you, about this.”

He squeezed her ass to emphasize his point and Y/N gasped. “Jethro,” she whimpered, already so wet for him.

Gibbs smirked, manhandling her toward the bedroom. “Gonna remind you who you belong to, baby girl. I need my Y/N back.”

They tumbled into bed together, relearning each other’s bodies with eager mouths and roving hands. He kissed every inch of inked skin, paying special attention to the secret spots that made her moan his name. When Gibbs finally sank into her tight heat, Y/N cried out his name, overwhelmed by how right it felt to be in his arms again. There was no slow build this time - the need to claim her was primal, urgent.

“So perfect for me, baby,” he praised, setting a relentless pace. She clasped him tight, meeting every thrust and urging him on. The bite of her nails and the sinful roll of her hips pushed him right to the edge. He wanted to watch her fall first.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me,” he commanded, driving into her sweet spot until she shattered with a sharp cry. The pulses of her release triggered his own and he followed her over, burying his face in her neck as ecstasy crashed through him.

Later, nestled against Gibbs’ strong chest, Y/N traced random shapes on his chest.

“Missed you too, Jet,” she whispered. “As wild as I am, I’m still yours. Only ever wanted to be yours.”

Gibbs pressed a kiss to her hair, holding her close. “I know, baby. We’ll figure this out, together. I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too.” Y/N tilted her head up for a soft kiss, heart full and racing, always racing, for Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

#gibbs x reader #gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis gibbs #smut #gibbs smut

[theprincessandthepie]

here’s how mary and her high school hunter girlfriend that i just made up in my head can still win

#I just think Mary should get to have a little the way I loved you moment.... #the passion and the conflict of both coming to terms with living a girl while you both go to chemistry class and hunt monsters with her. #*loving #the final blowout fight. I just want to be NORMAL! do you mean you want to be a civilian or you want to be straight? (quietly) both. #she sits with her eldest son who is older than her but has managed to live less of a life than her regardless as he drowns his grief. #(this is post ending but before they rescue cas from the empty and Mary is alive because of course she is #what kind of a writer would kill off-) #(softly) I loved a girl once. #I loved your father. but I loved her first. #and I think. part of the reason I chose your father to fall in love with was to run from her. #(quietly but firmly) I don’t want you to choose your life like that. #a few months later she runs into her and is floored. she was always reckless when they were kids. Mary never imagined that she’d make it #this far. there’s love there still but they’re different people. she’s older. she has a wife and she she doesn’t hunt anymore. #but she’s still part of that world. she ended up going to college and studied a bunch of different languages and she splits her time between #translating manuscripts for academics and spell books for hunters. #she says: Mary. it doesn’t have to be one or the other. you don’t have to be normal to be happy. but you also don’t have to shun normalcy #either. #they keep in touch. Mary offers her number to Sam as he assembles his network. she finds a place for herself as she hunts on occasion #but also spends time dedicating herself to learning about the world she’s been thrust into. she makes friends in her classes at the local #community college. #she dates a few boys. she dates a few girls. #and when she starts going steady with a boy she does it on purpose. just because she loves him. #she’s not hiding from herself. she makes him go with her to pride the one year she goes before she decides it’s too much for her. #but she LOVES the motorcycles and gets one of her own. her jacket says posse magnet on the back. #Mary #mine

[kikixreverie]

Hi- may I ask for an angst-mix with Bucky x reader: she had her share of abusive/toxic relationships in her past, but it was nothing she spoke of, and not now when she had James. It wasnt like she thought she was gonna be triggered again, not by him, any other guy- buy not her Bucky! Some tiny bickering evolved to a large dispute, and before she knew what was happening, she shied away from him, making herself small, awaiting the blow - that never came... And instead she was overcome by shame...

Pasts and Apologies

Bucky x Fem!reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse from ex, some descriptions of abuse, angst, trauma

A/n - Okay I definitely went hard on the angst for this one. I kinda just went off on one so not so much bickering and more just a full blown argument but I've been feeling kinda angsty lately so I kinda accidentally made this darker than I expected. Please read the warnings and do not read if you think this could trigger you.

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Love had not been kind to you before Bucky. Every decent memory of your ex was clouded with uncertainty, you would walk on eggshells around him, terrified that saying the wrong thing would set him off and you'd be calling Sam again, sobbing down the phone, cradling another bruise at the hands of your 'partner'.

You were together for years, devoted to and unconditionally in love with the man that you had met in high school. Childhood sweethearts.

He always was quick to anger and he wasn't shy about that. He never had any issues with shouting at you when you pissed him off, just as he never had issues with shouting at his mother or younger brother, but at the time, you had always stood up for yourself and defended the poor woman, making him apologise, and he let you, he always let you clean up his messes.

The first few years were spent in ignorant bliss, you constantly ignored the fear that would creep up your spine when he got angry, but you could manage a screaming match or two, you could manage it all because you loved him, you depended on him despite that he wasn't at all dependable.

The arguments were tough, but you never expected it to go further than that, but eventually, it did.

The first time he was physically aggressive was on his 22nd birthday. He had insisted that he spend his birthday with his friends, calling it a guys night, and you were fine with that, you knew how handsy he got when he was with his friends anyway, so you spent the day with him instead, making sure to keep him happy and spoilt rotten.

As the night crept on, you had tried to wait up for him to return, just as he had asked, but as it passed 3am you decided that he wouldn't mind you going to bed since you had work the next day, so you crawled into bed and fell asleep, a mistake, at the time, you didn't know you had made.

When he returned half an hour later to see you unconscious, he woke you up with his shouting, angry that you hadn't stayed up for him, convinced that you were ruining his night on purpose. The loud awakening was enough alone to trigger your fight or flight but when he threw the duvet off you and grabbed your ankle so tightly you knew a bruise would form, you were terrified. He dragged you off the bed and pushed you towards the door, telling you to fuck off, and you did, tears streaming down your face as you laid awake on the couch till morning.

It only got worse from there, when he realised that he could hurt you and get away with it, it became his favourite past time, he'd look for reasons to shout at you, make you do things that would piss him off just so he'd have a reason to be cruel.

When Sam started noticing dark bruises on your skin, he was livid, and despite how often you'd try to convince him that it's just clumsiness, Sam knew better.

There were rare days that you would have long conversations with Sam, you'd talk about how you'd lost all your friends and distanced yourself from your family but you didn't blame your abuser, you blamed only yourself, and Sam would beg you to leave him but you'd be sobbing in his arms, telling him that you still loved the man who hurt you, that he didn't really mean to hurt you and you'd feel even more guilt if you ever got him in trouble for it.

It was a long and hard journey, but the moment you told Sam that you wanted out, he was there for you, offering you to stay at his place and helping you call the cops. He gave you all the resources he could possibly find through the VA and set you up with an amazing therapist and eventually you were living in your own place, talking to old friends again, and filing a restraining order against your ex.

It was nearly two years later when you met him. Introduced through Sam, you met the love of your life on a Sunday. He was quiet and focused, with hard eyes scanning the room, looking for escape routes, analysing people's faces.

You smiled gently at him when you met, opting for a small nod in greeting instead of a handshake. You stayed near him for the remainder of the gathering, not pressuring him to speak to you, just sitting in silence. You were drawn to him, his behaviour was so similar to yours.

You knew what it felt like to want to just blend into the corner, to stay unnoticed, you understood the need to know how to escape a room, and you saw the way he hesitantly returned your smile and then struggled to chase his smile away once you had sat down beside him.

You and Bucky soon became each other's rocks, always there for the other on the hard days, days that you would spend just walking or reading together in calm silence. There was no doubt that the two of you loved each other, and after months and months of trying to hide longing glances and blushing cheeks, you finally confessed to each other, and the rest was history. You trusted him like you had never trusted anyone before.

As your relationship progressed, Bucky started to notice some strange things in your behaviour, how you'd always ask his permission for you to go out with friends, how you were always quick to apologise in any situation and distanced yourself from him when he was the slightest bit irritated.

He had tried to ask you about it, but you always changed the subject as soon as it was mentioned, ensuring him that it was nothing to worry about.

To tell the truth, you were embarrassed, you were ashamed that your ex still had this effect on you, and no matter how many times you told yourself that he would never, that your Bucky would never, your brain refused to allow you to believe it and you continued with the odd behaviour that you used as a defence mechanism when in the abusive relationship.

You never spoke out of line, you never asked him where or who he was going out with, and you never let small bickering escalate.

It was only after you had overheard Sam and Bucky in a heated conversation, Sam scolding Buck for being reckless and stupid during a mission, that you had your first argument with him.

You had called Sam while Bucky was at the store, convincing him to tell you what had happened and after a few minutes of guilt-tripping, Sam finally confessed that Bucky had practically ran into open fire, endangering himself in an attempt to shut down a Hydra base, it could've very easily been fatal, and it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you should've just asked Bucky about it, but you couldn't help yourself, and you knew that Bucky would've downplayed the whole situation.

When he returned home you were pacing up and down in the living room, chewing the inside of your cheeks and your nails to pieces because you could've lost him, Bucky could've died and he was acting as if it were nothing.

"Doll?" You could hear the worry in his voice as he placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and walked over to you, standing in front of you to stop your movement, pulling your hand from your mouth and kissing your knuckles.

It was supposed to calm you, and it almost did, but as his soft lips grazed your hand, and his eyes met yours, your mind kept wandering to the fact that he could've died.

This moment could've never happened, instead, you'd have Sam or Steve at your door, trying to deliver the news of their best friend's death, your lover.

"Honey speak to me" He looked utterly confused, but the look only made you feel angry.

How could he be so reckless?

"I just got off the phone with Sam."

He froze, eyebrows furrowing and taking a step away from you, waiting for you to explain.

Your gaze didn't move from the floor, trying to even out the anger and worry rushing through you, settling like a heavy rock in your stomach.

"He told me about the missions, about how you've been acting."

"What do you mean, how I've been acting?" He scoffed, sounding offended, and you sighed.

"How reckless you've been acting. Sam said that Tony's considering pulling you out of missions! How many times have you endangered yourself like this? How many times is it gonna take for you to realise that you could fucking die out there, James."

Your voice was stern, and the tone felt foreign against your tongue. Bucky's kept his face hard, refusing to show any emotion, but you could see the way his jaw clenched harshly, eyes glued to the corner of the room, ignoring your fiery glare.

"Were you ever going to tell me? I thought that all the injuries you got were fairly normal for the jobs you do, but when I hear that you run into open fire, that you make decisions on your own before talking to your team, that you've gotten fucking stabbed in the past, and you never told me, how do you expect me to react?"

He sighed heavily through his nose, jaw ticking in annoyance towards his friend, angry that he had told you even though it wasn't his place.

"I told him not to tell you." His voice was gruff, the words spoken harshly under his breath and you felt your anger flair again.

"What and you think that's okay?!"

His gaze shot to yours, looking at you incredulously.

"Bucky we're partners! You're supposed to tell me this shit, you're supposed to tell me when you've nearly died on a mission, you're supposed to trust me."

"You think I don't trust you?!" His voice was slightly raised and you felt your annoyance spike, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I'm gonna worry, James. This is a big deal, I can't believe you've been getting seriously injured and not telling me."

"Well, I don't think it's that big of a deal, Sam shouldn't have fucking told you. This wouldn't be happening if he had just kept his mouth shut, but no! Of course not!" Bucky's eyebrows were drawn in tight with annoyance, wishing you'd just drop the subject, "I'm not stupid, I know what I'm doing."

"What the hell do you mean 'You know what you're doing?' You know that you're not supposed to endanger yourself to complete a mission, yet you do it anyway. I'm glad Sam told me because otherwise, I doubt I'd ever find out!."

"I don't see how what I do on missions is anything to do with you. Sam is exaggerating. I'm fine!"

As Bucky's voice raised, you started to lose focus, flashbacks of your past echoing in your mind and in his annoyance, Bucky didn't notice the way your eyes had gone distant, losing sight of the man in front of you, the man you loved, and forming the image of the man you still see in nightmares, the man you're so terrified of seeing in the street that you haven't stepped foot in Queens since leaving him.

You could almost feel the sting of his palm against your cheek, the burn of his hand, tight around your wrist, and you tried to remind yourself that it wasn't real. It had been months since you'd had an episode, and your steps to control them were hard to find with the false image of your abuser so clear in front of you.

"Are you even listening to me?" The statement dragged you back to reality and you felt yourself calm when your eyes focused in on Bucky, reminding yourself that your ex wasn't here, that Bucky wasn't like that, he would never, but as he raised his arm to push his hair out of his face, everything flew out the window and in the moment, you were 21 again and you were sure he was going to hit you, your exes face flashing behind your eyes again.

You flinched, a gasp falling from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut and your head ducked down, breathing heavily through your nose as you awaited the hit.

Time slowed.

Bucky froze completely, his eyes wide and frantic as he quickly stumbled away from you, shaking his head as self-hatred ran through his veins, disgusted at himself for making you think even in the slightest, that he would ever hurt you.

"Doll?" He sounded absolutely broken.

Your head shot up, panic flooding through you when you realised what you had done and pain replacing the feeling when you saw the agony on Bucky's face.

"Y/n, I- I would never-" He kept his voice at a pained whisper, not wanting to scare you further as he stayed at a distance.

You collapsed to the floor, sitting on your knees as the weight of the situation pulled you down. Your hands raised to cover your mouth as a sob threatened to tear through you, so fucking ashamed of what had just happened, so fucking ashamed that your ex had done this to you, and you had let him for so long, ashamed that he still haunted you.

"Babydoll I-" He struggled to find the words, terrified that he had just lost you, wanting to reach out and hold you but scared shitless of hurting you more than he already had, "I don't know what- I'm so fucking sorry y/n, I can't- I can't even fathom the thought of-"

His voice trailed off, unable to even say the words and you felt your guilt tenfold.

"N-No Bucky, I'm sorry I thought-" You struggled to speak through your crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you rocked yourself gently in an attempt to self-soothe.

"Why are you apologising honey? This is on me, this is-"

"No, it isn't, I promise Buck this isn't you, it's.." You couldn't get the words out, you couldn't tell him, "Just come here, please."

You wanted him to wrap his arms around you, you needed him to know that it wasn't him, you know the way his mind works and you knew that by now he would already be drowning in guilt and self-hatred.

"I don't think that I should. I don't want to hurt you, I can't- I can't hurt you" You smiled at him gently through your tears and your chin wobbled as you saw the tears running down his cheeks too.

"It's okay. I'm okay Bucky, I just- I-I need you over here, I need you - I need you to touch me. I need you."

He was over in an instant, falling to the floor beside you and letting out a huge sigh of relief when you instantly wrapped yourself around him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and crawling into his lap, needing to be as close to him as possible, to rid the memories of the pain, to remind yourself that his touch is good, his touch is safe.

Arms enveloped you and he held you as tight as possible, the both of you crying.

After the two of you had calmed down and a comfortable silence enveloped you, Bucky knew he would have to break it.

"Why did you think that I would hit you?" He asked, his voice tentative and gentle and you sighed, knowing that it was time for you to tell him.

"I didn't, I don't, I promise."

You lifted your head from his shoulder but still stayed on his lap, instead, resting your forehead against his.

"Then why-?"

"I thought I was better, I-I thought it was all over but I just- I lost myself again. Everything got all foggy and I lost where I was and I just, I thought I was there but-" The floodgates opened again and you knew that Bucky had no clue what you were talking about but the words just kept coming.

Bucky's eyebrows were furrowed tightly and when your vague, confusing explanation only made his worry grow, he felt himself pulling you even tighter against him.

"Doll, Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're always walking on eggshells around me? Is that what the nightmares are about?" He struggled against the words, not wanting to say them because he didn't want to believe them and he watched in agony as you swallowed hard and nodded slowly, your hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as you continued to hold your forehead against his.

He refused to let his anger show, he wouldn't do that to you, especially with you so fragile, but he couldn't hide the pained shaky breath he let out at your confession, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry that that happened to you. Was it your ex? Did he hurt you?"

You nodded again, doing your breathing exercises, and calming yourself so that you could explain your situation fully to your partner.

"I should've told you, I know, I just, I'm so angry that I'm still like this, I just wish it would all go away and I could forget about what he did. I thought I was better. I can't stand that I'm still so haunted by that asshole" Bucky nodded along as you spoke, brushing his fingers up and down your back to help calm you.

"It's okay, Doll. Things like that don't just go away. Believe me, I wish they did too, but things will get better, I promise you that. Thank you for telling me."

You scoffed in self-deprecation, "I should've told you ages ago."

"That doesn't matter, you've told me now, and I'm sure it wasn't easy, so thank you for sharing" His voice was so gentle, his hands caressing your back almost making you feel sleepy.

"And Buck?" He hummed in response, letting you know that he was listening, "About the mission thing, I'm just worried about you. I can't lose you, I need you, and I need you alive."

A gentle smile lifted his frown and he nodded in understanding, feeling bad for getting mad in the first place, and you leaned back, looking down at him, your hands playing with his hair.

"I know. I'm sorry for being an idiot, It's just so hard to look at them and remember what they did to me and know what they've done to so many innocent people and I just lose it, all rationality out the window" You nodded at him, understanding how painful some of the missions must be.

"I'm sorry I got so upset with you, and I'm sorry I went to Sam instead of talking to you. Don't be mad at him, I kinda forced him to tell me" You gave him a sheepish look and he breathed out a small laugh, his nose crinkling like you always loved.

"It's okay doll, I'm sorry for being so careless and hiding the stuff about the missions, I promise I'll be more careful, I gotta make sure I always come home to my sweet girl. And don't worry about Sam, you deserved to know and I know what you're like."

You tutted at him and he smiled in response, the adorable, loving look on his face making you pull him into the sweetest, softest kiss which he instantly returned.

After sitting together in each others embrace for a while, the yawns eventually started. You were both positively exhausted from all the emotions you had both just experienced so Bucky wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you both from the floor, discarding the groceries still left in bags in the kitchen and carrying you to bed, holding you as close as physically possible as you both drifted off to sleep.

#bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky requests

[ssahotchhner]

reckless endangerment

the reader can't let go of the trauma of aaron being kidnapped and tortured six months ago.

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: kidnapping, torture, smut, dom!hotch

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

It was stupid to jump on the helicopter that contained at least two terrorists as it took off that roof in Manhattan. Even stupider that you had done it alone, Aaron’s voice screaming for you from behind. You weren’t sure he would forgive you for this if you survived so you supposed it was a good thing you weren’t planning on surviving.

Why did you jump on the helicopter, you may ask, and that would be a reasonable question. Perhaps it was your hero complex finally getting the better of you, knowing the helicopter was planning on flying straight into the Empire State Building, loaded with explosives. Or perhaps it was because these terrorists were part of a group that had tortured Aaron for hours a few months ago when he was on assignment in Pakistan and you had always believed fully in revenge. Aaron did not, he was much better than you.

“Hold your fire!” Aaron had yelled when it was clear you weren’t getting off that helicopter, “Federal agent on board!”

“With all due respect, sir, but you said that helicopter was headed for the Empire State Building where there are thousands of tourists and--”

“I said hold your fire.” Aaron snarls at the leader of the SWAT team. He knows he’s being ridiculous, letting emotion cloud his judgement, but how can he let them blow up a helicopter that you’re on? And why the fuck had you jumped on it in the first place?

The SWAT agent glared at him, “That helicopter gets within a hundred yards of the building, I’m ordering my men to shoot it down.” And then he walked away.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, the rest of the team not far behind him, “What the hell did she do that for?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He responded. He was furious with you, so much so he couldn’t think straight.

JJ steps closer, the panic evident on her face, “She’s not responding on radio.”

He looks at the rest of the team, all of them one step away from absolutely losing their minds over the fact that one of their own had gone on a suicide mission without consulting any of them, and then he looks back to the helicopter that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

***

SIX MONTHS AGO

You take a sip from your glass, “I miss you.” You say to your computer screen.

On that screen, SSA Aaron Hotchner smiles back at you, “I know. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“When you get back,” You say slowly, “Can we… Can we tell them? About us?”

By them, he knew you meant the team. He gets quiet, the smile falling off his face, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Hotch, they’re like our family. I feel terrible keeping things from them. It was fun in the beginning, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

He swallows, but then nods, “Okay.”

“Really?”

He smiles, “Yeah, of course. I don’t like hiding you either.”

You’re about to tell him you love him when there are suddenly men in the tent, “Aaron?” He looks around and scrambles for his gun, but he’s too late. One of the men hits him in the side of the head with a blunt object and he’s out, “Aaron!” You yell and then the feed cuts out.

***

It was surprisingly easy to disarm them, you supposed because you had surprised them. You easily knocked the gun away from the one who wasn’t piloting, ducked some of his punches before kicking him square in the chest, causing him to fall down. He hit his head on a hard metal handle on the way down, knocking himself unconscious. The Empire State Building was looming closer and closer and you knew if you didn’t stop it, SWAT would shoot down the helicopter. It would lead to less deaths than crashing directly into the building would, but people would still die from fallen debris. You wouldn’t let that happen. You pointed your gun at the man in the cockpit.

***

“Garcia, is her body cam on?”

“No, sir, but I can turn it on.”

Seconds later, the team was viewing the inside of the helicopter. You had knocked one of the men unconscious and handcuffed him to a handle, but you still had to get control of the helicopter.

“Can you hack the helicopter, Garcia?”

He hears the frantic typing of the technical analyst, but she huffs on the other end, “Not under these time constraints no, by the time I get in it’ll be too late.”

“Agent Hotchner, the snipers have locked in on the target.”

“Just give her another minute.”

“We don’t have another minute.”

He sighs, “She’s about to take control of the cockpit.”

“Does she know how to fly a chopper?”

“She’ll figure it out. Stand down, I won’t say it again.” Hotch’s radio goes silent after that.

***

You waste no time getting the team together and forty minutes later you’re sitting in the conference room, styrofoam cup of coffee warming your hands.

“You were video calling Hotch? At 10 PM?” Reid asks. From anyone else, it would sound accusatory, but you knew he was just genuinely curious.

“10 PM here is 7AM for him. I caught him right before he started his day, wanted to ask him about a case.”

Spencer frowns, “What case?”

Your mouth falls open as you try to fumble for something, but it’s already too late. “I knew it.” Rossi says quietly.

You grind your teeth together, “I’m sorry, is dissecting my love life more important to you guys than finding Hotch after he’s been kidnapped by a terrorist group?” You stand, squashing the empty styrofoam cup in your hand and toss it in the waste bin as you walk out of the room.

Moments later, Spencer’s standing next to you and you immediately feel guilty, “I didn’t mean to pry,” He says, “Honestly, the two of you being romantically involved was the last thing I would have guessed.”

The corners of your lips turn up just slightly, “I didn’t mean to snap in there, I know you meant nothing by it, I just… Right before he was taken we talked about telling you all. Together. Once he got back.” You sniff, “Part of me feels like all of you figuring it out without him here is the universe saying he’s going to die out there. I know that’s silly, but…”

“It’s not silly at all. When you’ve witnessed something traumatic, like a loved one being taken away in front of you with no way for you to help, your brain looks for anything to rationalize it. Even the universe predicting the outcome.”

Spencer's voice throwing out facts was actually fairly soothing, “Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“Come on.” He squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s bring Hotch home.”

***

“Slowly put your hands up and back away from the controls,” You say, flexing your fingers on the gun, “Now!” You say when he doesn’t move. You’re running out of time. Finally, he slowly raises his hands, but at the last second turns and lunges for you. The helicopter tips as you fall over, your gun misfires at the ceiling before tumbling out of the chopper, and you’re free falling until your face slams on the floor and your hands grab the outside edge of the helicopter so hard you’re sure you ripped out your fingernails. Dangling, you grunt as you scramble to hook your feet on something. The pilot, already assuming you’re dead, had gone back to the cockpit.

Finally, you haul yourself back inside and run to him, ripping him out of his seat. He’s bigger than you, though, and quickly overpowers you. His hands wrap around your throat as you’re pinned to the floor and you’re choking, suffocating. All you can think is at least you’ll die before the chopper goes up in flames. And then, in a last ditch effort that’s more involuntary reaction than conscious choice, you’re able to knee him in the groin. His hands immediately leave your throat and instead of taking the moment to catch your breath, you kick him off you and he rolls to the open door. You reach for him, but you’re too late, he falls.

You wanted revenge, but you didn’t want to kill anyone. But you had no time to think about that now. You cough a few times and then stumble over to the cockpit. For the first time since you jumped on the helicopter, you turn your radio back on.

“I don’t suppose one of you knows how to fly a chopper?”

***

When you reenter the conference room everyone’s watching the last few seconds of the video call. They look at you apologetically and you nod in acknowledgement. You have to close your eyes at the sound of your own screams.

“Who was he working to take down while he was there?” Morgan asked.

“The leader of the Kashmir Jehad Force, his name was Syed Khan.” You said.

JJ frowned, “He told you all of this? Wasn’t it classified?”

You nodded, “Hotch asked to bring me on a few weeks ago when they were stuck. I was debriefed, but then they had a break before I could get on the plane. They finished the operation a few days ago, Hotch was supposed to come home in the next couple of days.”

“So Khan is dead?” Rossi asked.

You nod, “No one was supposed to know it was the US Government who did it. They wanted it to look like an accident. They shouldn’t have known Hotch was there.”

“Are you thinking there’s a double agent?” Emily asked.

You shrug, “It’s either that or Hotch was sloppy. Which one would you bet on?” The room is silent. “Exactly.” You say quietly.

***

They don’t have time to be relieved about the fact that you single handedly re-hijacked the chopper because now you need to figure out how to safely land it and you’re a football field length away from the Empire State Building. Reid jumps into action, apparently having read a lot about helicopters when he was younger.

“I’m assuming he had it on autopilot, the button will be glowing green on your left, turn it off and then get ready to steer.”

You sigh, “Spencer, I am so happy to hear your voice.” You flip off the switch like he said and the helicopter immediately starts beeping at you and plummets. You try and remain calm and pull it up and then turn the helicopter in the opposite direction from the building and sigh. “You know how to land this thing, right Reid?”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you through it.”

Hotch has to walk away from the conversation because he’s so caught up in feeling relieved that you’re alive and absolutely furious with you for doing what you did. He thinks he knows why you did it. You had been absolutely torn up when he had been taken while in Pakistan and you had been on edge this whole case knowing the terrorists you were after had been a part of the group that had tortured him.

***

When Hotch wakes up, he’s chained to the ceiling by his wrists, shirtless. He can feel a migraine blooming from his temple where he was hit, but he knows the real pain hasn’t even begun yet. He can hear talking from the corner of the room and before they can see that he’s awake, he begins detaching himself. He pictures your face, smiling at him on your first date. The way you smile sleepily at him when he kisses you first thing in the morning. The way you scrunch up your forehead just a little when you’re thinking really hard. The first time you told him you loved him. And then he’s with you and no one can touch him, no one can hurt him.

***

“Do you know where they would keep him?” Strauss is sitting in the conference room now, looking at you, “You were debriefed, is it enough for a profile?”

You sighed deeply, eyes darting back and forth as you tried to recall all the information you know, “I know most of the profile for Kahn, but we never focused on the group as a whole because we wanted to find him alone when we neutralized him.” You tap your fingers on the table, “I have no idea what a group without Kahn would function like, even knowing what I knew before, the fact that Kahn is gone would change the whole profile. We don’t know who took over.”

“And what do you know about the group?”

“Um,” You blinked a few times, you were having a hard time focusing, “They were all followers, none of them would have been capable of leading. Whoever is in control now was outside of the group.”

“Maybe our double agent?” Emily says.

You nod, “That would make sense.”

Strauss frowns, “You think there’s a double agent?”

“There’s no way the group would have known Hotch was responsible if they didn’t have insider information.” You say.

“What you’re proposing is that a terrorist somehow infiltrated a Top Secret US Operation, waited for us to kill a terrorist leader, then took over that same terrorist group and kidnapped the leader of our operation.” Strauss said and waited for someone to say something, “Does that not sound ridiculous to anyone else?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” You ask sharply.

“Yes, that Agent Hotchner left something behind at the scene that pointed the remaining group in his direction.”

You’re shaking your head, “If you’re so certain that’s the case, then check their old stronghold. If it’s a new guy, they would have abandoned it, which I’m certain they did. But be my guest, waste our time and your men.” You storm out of the conference room for a second time.

***

You find yourself in Aaron’s office and you tilt your head to the side, stretching out a kink in your neck before sitting on the couch. You look around the office, well decorated with plaques commemorating his work in the bureau. When you get up and walk around to his side of the desk, you notice a small gold frame that hadn’t been there before. In it is a small picture of the both of you sitting on the beach at sunset. When had he put this here? When had he decided that it was worth the risk of your coworkers noticing that new frame? Seeing you propped on his desk like that?

And then you were crying and you couldn’t stop it and you just wanted to hold him. “Looks like you just outed your relationship to Erin.” You looked up to see Rossi standing in the doorway and wiped your tears, sniffling.

“Not like she can say anything considering you both make it a habit of checking in at the same hotel every weekend.” You snap, and then sigh instantly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” He says and walks over to put a hand on your shoulder, “You miss him.”

“A few hours ago we were talking about what we were going to do when he gets back, and now he’s gone.”

“He’s coming back, Y/N. We’ll find him.”

***

You had been right about the former stronghold being abandoned. All signs now pointed to a double agent. You tried to think of everything Aaron had told you about the team that would be a part of the operation, but you kept coming up empty. When a list was brought out with pictures of each you went over it again, every conversation you had had with Aaron since he left.

And then… there was one interaction, one interruption that you and Aaron had both dismissed at the time.

A man walks up behind Aaron while he’s talking to you, debriefing you back when they thought you’d be flying in. At the look on your face, Hotch had turned around to face him, “Can I help you with something?”

The man had simply shook his head and left, but you could have sworn for the rest of the call, he had lingered. Listening. Aaron had explained to you that most of those involved in the operation hadn’t known the full details of the plan up until they had left, in order to prevent situations like the one they were in now.

There were times when Aaron was talking to you on the phone and he told you he felt like someone had been watching him, but you both dismissed it as paranoia. And when the pictures and names were presented to you again, you pointed to the man you were sure you saw on that one video call. “What do we know about him?” You asked.

And the look of dread on Erin’s face when you pointed him out told you everything you needed to know. Garcia did what she always did and soon they knew every detail of his life. He was a textbook narcissist and sociopath. Incredibly charming, everyone loved him, he could convince almost anyone to follow him. He had an FBI background and rumor had it, he thought he was to be the one to lead this operation until Aaron showed up.

“So he takes over an entire terrorist organization just to take out Hotch?” Morgan asks, “We have to be missing something.”

You’re getting impatient, “Well let’s figure it out on the jet.”

“This team is not going to Pakistan.” Erin says firmly, “We will inform an extraction team that’s already on the ground when we figure out where they’re holding him.” You’re already rolling your eyes and preparing a retort and she notes that and continues, “If you can’t compartmentalize your emotions, Agent, I will have you removed from the case.”

You hold yourself back from yelling that you need to be the one who brings him home, because you know how ridiculous it sounds and you being stubborn isn’t helping Aaron. “Fine.” You say, “Here’s what I can tell you.”

***

You’re on top of him, straddling his hips, giggling as your hair falls in your face. He reaches up to push it away and you grind your hips against his. “Hotchner.” You say, “You have to wake up.” He frowns. It’s not your voice.

And before he can stop it, your face swims away and it’s replaced by SSA Scott Carter. It takes him a few moments to realize that Carter isn’t here to help him and that he was probably behind this whole thing. “Carter?” He manages.

Carter smiles, “Ah, the darling of the BAU finally awakens. What were you dreaming about, Hotchner? Sounded juicy. Was it about your girlfriend?” His head shot up at that. If you were in danger, he’d kill this son of a bitch. “Oh, I hit a nerve.” He smirks, “Did you tell her you weren’t planning on coming home this week? That you had some loose strings to tie up?”

Hotch blinked, his brain was still fuzzy from what he assumed was a concussion, “You… You’re the one stealing the military weapons and selling them to the terrorist organizations.” He hadn’t told you he was planning on staying a few more days to figure out who was transporting the weapons, he had still been hoping to figure it out before his flight was scheduled to leave, but Carter had been his prime suspect. Apparently, Carter had figured out he was on to him. It was why he was able to get Khan’s men to drag him from his tent this morning.

Carter gives him a slow clap, “You know, for a profiler, I’m disappointed you hadn’t figured it out sooner, Hotchner. Really, I’m very torn up about it. I have half a mind to fly to Quantico after you’re dead and demand your position.”

Aaron laughs, “You’re out of your mind if you think my team won’t figure this out in a quarter of the time it took me to.”

“What did you tell them, Hotchner?”

“I haven’t been in contact with my team in weeks.”

“Oh, but your girlfriend. Did you think I’d forget she’s a federal agent in the BAU as well?”

“She doesn’t know anything, the mission was classified, you know that.”

“You never mentioned your suspicions of a lucrative weapons trading operation?”

“No.”

Carter hums and takes out a knife, “I don’t believe you.”

Hotch doesn’t flinch, “Then go ahead and carve me up, Carter. You won’t be the first.”

***

With Reid’s help, after working through the night you were able to narrow down the possible holding sights to three places and Strauss ordered three separate teams to check each place. Now the only thing left to do was wait.

You’re sitting alone in Hotch’s office when Penelope, JJ, and Emily all walk in, JJ holding a tea for you. You give her a small smile of thanks as you take it, “You guys don’t have to sit with me, I’m okay.”

“Did you think we were going to just let you gloss over the fact you never told us you were dating Hotch?” Penelope said.

You manage a genuine smile and look down at your tea, “We weren’t sure when or how to tell you guys. Or if it would make things weird.”

JJ shrugs, “We’re already family and families are weird.”

“Not the point,” Penelope interjects, “We need all the details now, who made the first move?”

“He did, actually,” You smile recalling the memory, “He asked me if he could call me outside of work hours and I said sure, he could always call me to discuss a case. Then he got really red and I asked him if there was something else he would want to call me about. And he cleared his throat and asked if he could call me to ask me out to dinner sometime and I laughed and said yes.”

Emily shakes her head, “Hard to imagine that man getting flustered over anything.”

You laugh, “Yeah, he gets really awkward around women he likes romantically, it’s kind of endearing.” You clear your throat, “Thank you guys for trying to distract me.”

JJ nods, “They’re going to find him. Alive.”

You nod, “Yeah. I just wish it was my face he was seeing first.”

***

You had somehow managed to fall asleep at some point, head in JJ’s lap with her fingers gently combing through your hair.

“Guys.” Spencer’s voice jolts you from sleep, “They found him.”

All of you jump up, but you’re the first one out of the room, trailing Spencer, “He’s okay?”

“He’s injured, but yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Your legs almost give out, but JJ and Emily come on either side to grab your arms as you walk into the conference room.

“They’re airlifting him to the hospital, he was stabbed a couple of times but they were shallow, some burns, looks like he was waterboarded as well,” Erin Strauss smiles, “But he’s fine. They’ll transfer him to DC first thing in the morning.”

“What about Carter?” You ask.

“It turns out he was stealing weapons from the military and selling them to terrorist organizations and Hotch was onto him. That’s why he took him. Not because of Khan. He wanted to know how much Hotch knew and if he had told you anything.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know anything about that.”

Strauss nodded, “Carter has people here. Hotch didn’t mention it to you on purpose. So that they wouldn’t take you if something happened.”

You close your eyes. That man, always trying to protect you. Always being the hero. You could have found him hours ago if he had just told you. But that was the man you had fallen in love with.

***

You insisted on being on the roof of the DC hospital when the chopper landed and you charmed all the nurses into allowing you into every room he was wheeled in until he was settled. They had sedated him for the long flight and it seemed he would wake at any moment. You slid your small, cold hand, into his large, warm one and waited.

“I know that ice cold hand,” He said slowly. His voice was gravely and it brought tears to your eyes to see that he was trying to smile. “Oh, hey, don’t cry.” He reaches his hand up to stroke your cheek and you turn your head into his hand to kiss his palm, sniffling.

“I’m very happy to see you.” You manage, choking down your sobs, “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” His smile grows, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s very funny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry over anything and certainly not me.” You glare at him through your tears and he chuckles, “Ah, there she is, tough guy. I know the only thing holding you back from punching me in the shoulder is that I’m injured.”

“Oh, I’ll still do it if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

He smirks, “Promise?”

And finally you break into laughter and lean over him to kiss his mouth, “You should’ve told me about Carter.” You say, “You could have at least told me you were in danger.”

“And what, have you worried from an ocean away when it might have been nothing? I needed more evidence.”

You bite your lip, “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life, watching you get taken like that.”

“I came home.” He says softly, “I’m okay, I promise.”

You swallow, “Did they get Carter?” He nods, “And what about the guys that took you in?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a whole terrorist organization, no they didn’t get them.”

“They kidnapped a federal agent!” You say indignantly.

“And the federal agent is alive.”

“But—!”

He puts a finger over your mouth to quiet you, “Don’t make me argue with you like your unit chief right now. I just want to be your boyfriend.”

You sigh, “Okay,” Leaning over him, you rest your head on his chest and he begins stroking your hair. Having not slept at all since Hotch had been taken, you fall asleep like that. Finally at peace.

***

You hadn’t really been able to let it go, even when Hotch was better and back to work, he could tell you were harboring real anger about his kidnappers.

And on that morning, the morning you jumped on the god forsaken helicopter, when the BAU was asked to come to New York to investigate a possible terrorist threat, he debated telling you not to come. The government had suspicions that they were here to take revenge for Khan and he knew you’d be upset with being benched.

“Hotch, I’m fine. I’m not angry.” You had said when he pulled you into his office after debriefing the rest of the team.

“If you even hint at taking impulsive, reckless risks I will suspend you immediately, understood?”

You sigh, “I hate when you use your boss man voice with me.”

“Y/N—” He starts impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, understood. No being reckless. Got it.”

His eyes scan your face to see if you’re lying, “Good.” He says finally and presses a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s go then.”

He should have known you were lying. It was only the previous night you had woken him up tossing and turning from a nightmare. When he had finally gotten you awake you practically flung yourself at him, arms twining themselves around his neck as you caught your breath, “I thought you were gone again.” You had said breathlessly. And he had wordlessly held you to him, running his fingers through your hair until you were asleep again. It hadn’t been the first time he had had to comfort you. You had had far more nightmares about him being taken than he had about himself being tortured. Truth be told, he had been through far worse than being kidnapped and tortured for 24 hours. He knew it made you feel weak, the nightmares, when you weren’t even the one who had been tortured so he never brought them up. Never made you talk about them. But they worried him all the same. You relived the trauma again over and over, nearly every night. How were you expected to let the anger go when you were still living through it?

He should have known, but he let you out in the field anyway. Would that not put in question his ability to lead? His ability to lead with you on the same team?

He can barely see through his anger as he turns back to where Reid is instructing you to land. When you successfully land and jump out of the chopper, the rest of the team gathers around you to hug you, but Hotch stays back, watching.

When you notice, you walk over to him, “Hotch, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have--”

“You’re suspended for at least a month, if not more.” He starts, “You’re lucky I don’t remove you from this team all together.”

You frown, “Aaron, I was able to detain one of the suspects, now we can learn more about the group--”

“By doing what you did you put yourself and hundreds of civilians at risk. We could have shot down the chopper, but because you jumped onboard I had to instruct them to stand down. Which, by the way, I had to do several times because they were more than willing to kill you to get that chopper down, do you have any idea the damage you caused? What could have happened if you didn’t get control of that chopper when you did?”

“I… Baby, I’m sorry--” You reach your hand out to put on his arm, but he pulls away.

“Don’t talk like that, I’m not your boyfriend right now, I’m your unit chief. Now give me your badge and gun.”

You know you can’t blame him, he had warned you he would do this and you had disobeyed him intentionally. But still, your hands shake as you hand over your gun and badge. You don’t say anything else as you leave the roof, heading down all the way to ground level to get a taxi back to the hotel. And then you wait. You lay on your back and wait for the sound of the door opening and when it does hours later, you push yourself up and sit cross legged on the bed.

“Hi.” You say softly when he walks in.

He spares you a glance before heading to the bathroom without a word. You sigh and fall back on the bed. When you hear the shower running you decide to undress yourself and head in.

He sighs when he realizes you’ve joined him, but doesn’t object when you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his back, “I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“You keep saying that, but I know if you were given the opportunity to do it all again, you’d make the same decision.”

You pause at that, “You’re right, I don’t regret what I did, but I’m sorry I had to disobey you to do it.”

He turns in your arms and looks down into your eyes, “Do you not see the problem with that? You did what you did out of revenge. You let your emotions get the best of you, you broke the number one rule of being in the BAU.”

“Those men were prepared to die at all costs, I just didn’t want them to get off that easy. I want them to pay for what they did to you, and this way, at least one of them will. Would you not have done the same? Did you not murder Foyet after he had given himself up because he had killed your wife and threatened your son?”

“Don’t.” He warns.

You scoff, “You have this God complex sometimes, Aaron, and it’s so frustrating. You can do whatever you want because you always have a reason and from your standpoint you’re always right. But whenever one of your toy soldiers falls out of line, it’s a different story--”

“What I did with Foyet did not put myself or civilians at risk.” He says firmly.

“You went in alone.” You said, “You didn’t wait for backup.”

He looks down and shakes his head, “You cannot compare what you did today to the things I’ve done because I would never endanger hundreds of innocent people just for some petty revenge.”

He thinks your eyes water, but it’s difficult to tell in the shower, “It wasn’t petty, Aaron. Not to me.”

He sighs and bends his forehead to yours, bringing both hands up to cradle your face, “Honey, I’m fine. You have to let it go.”

You close your eyes at his touch and lean up just slightly to capture his mouth with yours and as he sighs into your mouth you pull away, just slightly, “If it was me… If I was the one who was kidnapped and tortured in a country thousands of miles away, what would you have done?”

He swallows, and searches your face, “There wouldn’t have been a single protocol that I wouldn’t have broken to get you home safe.”

You nod, “I’m sorry. I understand why you’re upset, I put others in danger. It won’t happen again.”

He kisses you hard on the mouth, “You’re still suspended.”

You hum and he pushes you against the shower wall, his hand coming up to rest on your throat, “Are you going to punish me?” You asked breathlessly.

“Maybe.” He leans down and scrapes his teeth against your neck, hand tightening around your throat just slightly in warning when you squirmed. “I’m still angry with you.” He says, his eyes looking up to meet yours, tightening his grip on your throat again.

You can barely breathe through his grip, “For disobeying you?”

“No.” He says roughly, “For nearly getting yourself killed.”

You manage to swallow, “And that would have upset you?”

The desire immediately fizzles out of his eyes and he drops his hand, “Of course it would, how could you ask that?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…” You shrug, “I don’t know, forget it.”

“No,” He puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you from leaving, “Do you really think I wouldn’t have been upset if you died?”

“Aaron,” You say slowly, “You are the love of my life. But Haley was yours. And that’s okay, I don’t expect anything else, but it’s just a fact of our relationship that I love you more than you love me.”

He stares at you blankly for another moment, and then looks away to turn the shower off. He leaves you standing there, wet and naked as he climbs out of the shower and towels himself off silently.

“Aaron.” You say after he’s been silent for so long, stepping out of the shower and wrapping your own towel around yourself.

“You think there can only be one?”

You blink, “What?”

“A person can have more than one love of their life, you think you just get one and done?”

You frown, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself onto it, “Yes, that’s the whole concept.”

He scoffs at you, “I forget how young you are, you think you know everything there is to know about relationships, you have no idea.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Me?” He raises his eyebrows, “Don’t patronize you, you’re the one who just tried to convince me you know more about my feelings, about who I love than I do. That’s quite patronizing, wouldn’t you say?”

You look down at your hands, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

He sighs and walks over to you, crouching in front of you, “Haley was the love of my life, that’s true. But in my head,” He swallows, “There’s the me from before Haley, and there’s the me from after Haley. And you,” He brushes his index finger over the tip of your nose, “Were the person who made the me after Haley believe I deserved love again. You are just as much the love of my life as she is and I have no idea where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met you.”

You finally give him a little bit of a smile, “Probably even more insufferably miserable than you are now.”

He chuckles and you relish in the sound, bringing your fingers up to lightly stroke his cheek, “I’m sorry. For everything today, being reckless, bringing up Haley… I’m sorry, I was out of line.”

“It’s okay,” He says softly, “But you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll fire you.”

“Yes sir.” You say, smirking as you lean in to kiss him, twining your arms around the back of his head. Gently, you tug and pull him back on the bed, on top of you and you feel him smile into your mouth.

Since you’re already naked from the shower, he can’t stop his hands from wandering across your soft skin. His hand grips your thigh, lifting up your leg and allowing him to squeeze your ass. You gasp into his mouth just the way he likes and he bites down on your lower lip. “Aaron,” You whine.

“Did you want something, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear as his hand slides between your legs.

It’s not fair, he knows when he works you up like this it’s nearly impossible to get a coherent word out of you. You manage only to moan his name again as he slowly, torturously, rubs over you again. “Come on, baby, use your words.” He teases and you can hear the smile in his voice. Bastard.

He runs a single finger down your folds, “Should I make you come with my fingers?” He slowly dips a finger inside you, eating up your reaction as your mouth falls open and a moan claws its way up your throat. “Or,” He pulls his finger out and you glare at him, “I could do it with my mouth.” Your eyes roll back when he licks you and you physically ache at his touch. But then he stops, “Or maybe,” He crawls back up to kiss your mouth and you can taste yourself on his tongue, “I won’t let you come at all since you’ve been such a bad girl.”

“Please,” You whine, “Please, I’ll be good. I promise.”

When he pulls back to look at you, his pupils are blown out and you feel such a rush seeing your effect on him. “We’ll see.” He says softly and without warning thrusts into you. Your back arches against the mattress as you curse. When your eyes meet his, he has a look of such confident satisfaction it nearly makes you come undone right there. “I think,” He pulls out slowly, “I’ll take my time with you tonight.” He reaches up a hand and wraps it around your throat again, “Is this okay?” He says softly, breaking his role for the first time.

You nod, “Please.” You say again, knowing how he loves when you beg. He scans your face once and then he grins again, tightening his hand around your throat until you’re gasping. “Good girl,” He whispers in your ear and slowly pushes into you again, gently biting your ear.

“Baby,” You manage with what little air you’re able to take in. He immediately stops, taking his hands off you, but you shake your head and pull his hand back to your throat, “Harder.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Fuck,” He curses, wrapping both hands around your throat, “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

And you smirk as he pushes down on your windpipe before slamming his hips into you at full force, you’re rapidly approaching climax, but Aaron can tell. You don’t know how he can tell, but he immediately slows his hips and takes his hands off your throat. You gasp at the sudden release and cough a little bit, “I didn’t tell you you could come.”

“I didn’t,” You say breathlessly, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“You almost did, and you would have if I didn’t stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at you and tilts his head to the side as he watches you, “Turn around.” He says calmly.

You hide your smile as you do what you’re told, turning on your knees, letting your forearms and face fall to the pillow. He roughly pulls at your waist, repositioning you and pulling your ass up even farther. He runs a hand over your ass, “Look at you, so pretty for me.” He says softly before pulling back his hand and smacking it hard against your ass. You moan into your pillow and then he’s inside you, a fistful of your hair in his fist.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.”

He slams into you roughly making you yelp, “And you’ll never disobey me again?”

You swallow, “Never.”

He releases your hair and leans over you, sweetly kissing your shoulder and you can feel his smile against your skin, “That’s my sweet girl.” He reaches his arm around your front and begins to massage your clit as he thrusts into you. “Come for me, baby.” He says and speeds up his movements. It’s all the permission you need and you’re immediately unraveling. It takes everything in you not to collapse onto your stomach until he’s also climaxing, brought to his edge by the pulsing of your walls. He swears and collapses fully onto your back, your knees giving way under his weight.

You both lay there like that, him resting on your back in silence for a few moments, catching your breath. Then, Aaron sits up quickly, hands searching your skin, “I’m sorry, baby, did I hurt you?”

“No.” You say, but he presses kisses all over your skin anyway, immediately entering aftercare mode.

You sigh sleepily and pull him to you, wanting to snuggle with him. He obliges, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin, “So much.”

You hum, “I love you. Thank you for not firing me.”

“If you ever end up getting yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

You chuckle and kiss his temple, “Noted.”

#mine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #hotch angst #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch imagine

[little-diable]

A Preacher's Punishment - Preacher James Barnes (smut)

Here we go again, another super filthy Preacher imagine. Hell's awaiting us. Remember that your feedback and your comments are very much appreciated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She has always been rebellious and even months after first joining the convent the reader is still a trouble maker. Her case calls for Preacher James Barnes, hopefully his punishment will put her back in her place.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, oral (m), degrading, dom!Bucky, sex with a preacher, wrong use of a bible, religious connotations

Pairing: Preacher!James Barnes x nun!reader (around 3k)

„Don’t you dare look away from me now.” Sister Jane cried out as (y/n) rolled her eyes, trying to shift her weight back onto her toes, away from her aching knees. She had been forced to kneel in front of her, having to apologise for her reckless behaviour, her careless ways.

For months she had been part of the convent, dressed in black and white attires, with a big cross around her neck. (Y/n) detested each morning and evening, having to follow rules she couldn’t care less about, speaking prayers she felt burning on her tongue.

“What shall I do with you?” The sister circled the still kneeling girl, trying to fight against the urge to slap the young woman’s face. But just as her eyes found hers once again, a smile began to tug on her lips, arms falling to her sides.

“I will send you to Preacher Barnes, he will know how to put you back in line.” (Y/n)‘s breath hitched in her throat, saliva pooling in her mouth as she thought of the Preacher she was helplessly crushing on. If anything sister Jane was doing her a favour, allowing her to spend some time alone with him.

With aching knees (y/n) rose from the floor, tugging on her habit. Her mind raced, her palms were getting sweatier, heart jumping in accelerating beats. Would he punish her? Or would he just sit down with her and talk about her wrongdoings?

Her parents had always struggled to keep her in line, forcing her to stay at home, away from alcohol and young boys that could lure her in. But a locked door had never managed to stop her from sneaking out of her home. She had been a regular at parties of her friends, drinking till the morning would bleed red, telling her that it was time to go home.

Though the second police officers had dragged her home with her hands bound together, her parents had snapped. The next morning she had been forced to pack her bags, driving across the country to join a convent of nuns that lived in celibacy.

As (y/n) stepped back into the room she shared with sister May, her eyes fell upon her bag, the one she had tried to hide. Her fingers ached for her to unzip it, to thumb through the lacy panties and bras she had taken with her, not knowing where her parents were driving her to. How naive she had been, bringing her finest clothes to a home filled with women that only dressed in black and white.

Slowly she walked closer, studying the black fabric of her bag, the silvery zipper she wanted to tug on. Before she could stop herself she had opened her bag, smiling at the red lace panties her eyes fell upon. Maybe tonight she could finally wear them, maybe tonight would be her only chance to break free, turning back into the woman she once had been.

Hours later, after a shower and some tea to calm her stomach, she walked behind sister Jane. The red lace she wore stuck to her skin, wrapping itself around her like a warm embrace to keep her warm. She felt adventurous, a rebel nobody could stop from breaking out and running away.

“You will only speak if he allows it, you won’t look at him and you won’t roll your eyes at me. Do you understand?” The sister grasped (y/n)’s chin, waiting for the girl to nod her head, piercing her fingernails into her palm - a simple habit she lived with to stop herself from talking back.

“Please come in.” His soft voice ripped the two women out of their staring contest, eyes meeting his tall frame, the body hidden behind his black suit. Preacher Barnes was undeniably handsome, every nun would dream about him, even the ones that would punish the younger girls for crushing on a man twice their age.

(Y/n) stepped into his office with wobbly knees, she had never seen the room before, had only walked past his office once or twice, wondering what he was doing behind closed doors. She jumped as he placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the chair vis-a-vis his.

Sister Jane left the two after shooting another hateful glance (y/n)’s way, hoping that the girl wouldn’t embarrass her and the other nuns.

“Don’t worry about Jane, she has always been a bit harsh. Tea? Coffee?” The preacher turned away from her, giving (y/n) an opportunity to let her eyes wander down his frame, the long legs that carried his broad frame. On instinct her thighs pressed themselves tightly together, trying to stop herself from moaning out in pleasure as her mind began to paint a picture of her laying on his table, legs spread for him to nestle in between.

“Coffee, please.” Heat clashed through her, she would melt away like ice cream on a summer morning, like a burning candle in the heat of the desert. He placed their cups down on the table, settling next to her with a smile on his lips. For a few seconds he studied her with interlaced fingers placed in his lap.

“Tell me something about you, (y/n).” The way he spoke her name left her sweating, low and raspy, though soft and sweet, a written poem in the words only he knew.

“Uhm,” she had to clear her throat, eyes wandering around his room. “I joined the convent in August, I guess my parents couldn’t stay around me any longer.” A pained chuckle left her lips, eyes shamefully sticking to her hands, waiting for the Preacher to speak his mind.

“Do you believe in God?” He took a sip off his coffee, cleaning his lips with his tongue as his gaze burned into her soul. (Y/n) could only shake her head, her mouth felt dry, tongue not able to wet her lips.

“Let me tell you something, doll.” Preacher Barnes leaned back in his chair, combing one hand through his hair. “I have seen more prisons from inside than churches, my rebellious ways have pushed me into misery, just like you. But then I found God and I knew that something better was waiting for me, something worth fighting for.”

The moment felt like a déjà-vu, she had heard those words too many times before, and could swear that they had all studied them, knowing them by heart. Sister Jane’s words rang in her ears as she rolled her eyes in frustration, biting her lip to stop herself from talking back.

His chuckles filled the room, head thrown back. “Just as bratty as sister Jane has told me. Maybe words won’t do the job, stand up for me.”

She followed his command, standing on her feet with quivering limbs. Slowly he rose from his chair, fronts about to touch, (y/n) could smell his cologne, the musky scent that reminded her of the most sinful days she has lived through. His dark eyes ran up and down her body, leaving her waiting for his following order.

“Unbutton your habit.” She didn’t move, hands sticking to her sides, not daring to move even close to the buttons that kept her red underwear hidden. Now she cursed herself for being that stupid, not even a shirt had found its way beneath her habit, too confident and cocky for her own good.

“Do I need to do it for you? Are you that dumb, can’t even unbutton her own clothes.” His breath crashed against her lips, tingling on her skin. She felt her arousal dripping into her panties, wetting the skin with every word he spoke. Preacher Barnes placed a hand on her waist, pulling her even closer to reach the black buttons.

One button after another popped open, exposing more of her red lace, the tits she had pushed together with her tight bra. He clicked his tongue, eyes admiring the view. Since the day he had met her, there had been something simmering deep inside of him, threatening to spill, to fill his every vein and vessel. God was testing him, he was sending the most sinful woman his way, wondering if he would give into the devil’s calling.

“Onto your knees, open on page 225.” He placed the bible down in front of her, falling back in his chair once again. (Y/n), now dressed in only her bra and panties, dropped to her knees, opening the holy book with trembling fingers.

She couldn’t find the page, fingers too sweaty, eyes too glassy to concentrate on the bible. But the Preacher didn’t move, he waited and waited, a sadistic man that found pleasure in her struggling.

“First your habit and now the bible? I guess Jane was right, we need to find something else to shut you up with.” Her eyes followed his hand, down to his trousers, the silvery zip that twinkled in the faint light. It took three long breaths for him to undo his trousers, bulge clearly pressed against his underwear.

(Y/n) wasn’t sure whether to run away and hide or to open her mouth like the greedy girl she was. Her lips parted, exposing her tongue to the chuckling man, ready to swallow him all. But James wasn’t ready to give in just yet, he palmed his cock, stared at her face, the mouth she had opened for his heavy length.

Her eyes screamed at him to fuck her, to fuck her bratty ways right out of her, right on his table. Perhaps he could battle the devil in the dance he’d lure her into, how he would sway her with his cock sitting between her walls, perfectly ripping her in half. She was doing him a favour, was a figure in his play to find redemption.

“You know what you’re doing, that much I have to give you.” James panted, eyes fighting to stay open, holding onto the feeling of his calloused fingers pumping his velvety skin. (Y/n) used his short moment of distraction, pushing the bible closer to his frame, using it as a pillow for her aching knees.

Her hand met his, carefully pushing his fingers away to replace them with her own. For a second she felt lost with his hard length in her grasp, wondering what the hell she was doing on her knees for a preacher, but the moan that spilled from his lips pushed her back into her headspace, lowering her head to run her tongue across his tip.

James’ head rolled back, exposing his neck to her hungry eyes. Slowly she pushed herself down on his cock, trying not to choke around him. He twitched, she panted. (Y/n) hallowed her cheeks for him, pumping what she couldn’t reach with her trembling hands, using his thighs to keep her balance.

“You’re such a needy slut, choking on my dick while kneeling on a bible, there’s nothing I can do for you. You’re lost.” She didn’t pay any attention to his words, kept pushing herself to her limits, trying to swallow around him. Her tongue traced his veins, danced around his girth, trying to tease him for as long as humanly possible.

“And since you’re already lost, I won’t have any problems with doing this.” The tip of his shoe met her chest, pushing her onto her back with a cry falling from her lips. James grasped her hair, tugging on her roots to force her gaze upon his, grinning down on the shuddering girl.

He grasped his cock and kept on pumping his length, growling her name with sweat pearling on his forehead. She could tell that he was close, about to cum with her cowering away on the floor. No dignity was left in her body, not one single drop of confidence, just a puppet thrown away after its owner got bored with her.

His cum met her cheeks and the floor, making a mess on the holy ground, the office he would lock himself into as the devil was calling his name. She opened her mouth, desperate to catch some drops of his release, moaning at the taste.

“Clean the floor for me and then I want you out of my office, our time is over. I will see you next week.”

----

Each following day he would make sure that she would stumble across him, smiling at her with a dark look laced in his gaze. He was testing her, waiting for her to snap, but she didn’t.

(Y/n) kept to herself, not once did she dare talk back, wondering if the other girls had received a similar treatment from him. She even had called out the almighty father’s name, begging him for his guidance, a sign that would tell her what to do.

But the nights stayed dark and the days stayed calm, nothing that could push her onto the right path. She was lost and desperate to be found, no longer could she worry about sneaking out and finding places to explore, she was cowering away in her room, not daring to lift her gaze.

Seven days after their last meeting she found herself in front of him again. Naked without any fabrics hiding her skin from his eyes. James didn’t speak to her, not opening his mouth once as he watched her undress, placing herself on her knees.

He didn’t let go of her head as he pulled her towards his table, tugging her across the floor like a bag he didn’t care about. (Y/n) got pushed down on the table, watching him step out of his black trousers, pumping his already hard cock as he moved closer.

As she called out his name, hoping that he would snap into motion, James spat onto her exposed cunt, watching his saliva run down her folds, pooling on the wooden ground between her legs. Things you would only see in the movies the sisters would blush at naming seemed to be set in motion, primitive things you could only dream of.

“I-” she wanted to ask him for a second to breathe, her head was spinning, lungs burning from her rapid breathing. But the look he shot her seemed to shut (y/n) up, body tingling in anticipation, wondering how a man of God could be that dark and twisted.

“You won’t say a word, I promise if you go against me I won’t let you cum. Sluts like you don’t deserve to have their own will.” Her eyes rolled into her head, she gasped at the feeling of his cock stretching her walls, pounding into her like she was already used to his size.

She whimpered, she cried, she struggled to keep on breathing. James couldn’t help but admire her, looking fucked out, ready to drown in his embrace. With each stroke he managed to push deeper into her tightness, fucking her like she deserved to be fucked, ruthless and rough. (Y/n) wouldn't have a chance to stop him, could cry for help, though nobody would ever help her, they all knew better than to interrupt a preacher’s punishment.

“Only a sinner like you could take my cock, after tonight you will respect your sisters and you will thank God for each day he lets you live.” He pushed his fingers into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue, forcing her to swallow down the cry that threatened to claw through her.

Her back rubbed against the wooden table, skin scratched open, bleeding onto the surface. James cradled her head in his hands, softening each blow against the table, making sure that she’d stay conscious.

But (y/n) felt herself slipping into another dimension, away from the convent, from the preacher that fucked her like she was a regular coming to visit on a Friday afternoon. He was getting his fill, using her for his satanic pleasure and lust. And she didn’t mind.

“Tell me, how does it feel to be fucked by your Preacher?” Tears ran down her cheeks, swollen lips parted to let her words flow from them.

“So good, feels so good. I’m so close, can I cum? Please let me cum.” (Y/n) cried out, making sure that every nun could hear her begging. He replied with another ferocious thrust, tip meeting her swollen spot, pushing her further into the burning flames of hell.

“Cum on my cock, scream my name. God won’t help you this time.” And she came so powerful that the angels fell from their comfortable seats on the clouds above. Her cunt fluttered around his length, squeezing him tightly as if he would push her away any moment now.

James fucked her through her high, cupping her burning cheeks with his big hand. It took him three more thrusts to relieve himself into her tightness, forcing her to take every single drop of his cum.

“Tonight you will apologise to sister Jane and you will thank her for bringing you to me.” He pulled out of her with a groan rumbling through him, throwing her habit down onto her frame, making sure that she would dress herself. James didn’t give (y/n) any time to wipe away her smudged mascara nor could she untangle her hair.

Embarrassment flooded through her as she walked through the church with his cum dripping down her legs. But perhaps she still hadn’t learned her lesson yet, because with a smile on her face she ran her thumb up her thigh, licking her skin clean.

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#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan

[imjustwritingg]

pillow talk part 2

Hi friends! This second installment was highly requested here on tumblr and I figured after what happened in 8x14, it was a good time to write it. So here you go friends! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! 🥰

Also on AO3 and FFNet!

----------

“You jammed me up. That’s not okay.”

His words play over and over in her head as she drives to his apartment. She knows he might not want to see her, the look of disappointment on his face at the crime scene enough evidence of that possibility, but she can’t let the night end without talking to him or at least trying to.

She parks her car and goes inside his building, heart beating wildly in her chest as she makes her way to his door. She rattles her knuckles against it and waits, knocking twice more a few moments later, when there’s no answer, but the door still doesn’t open and it feels as though someone has just punched her in the stomach.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and calls him, brings the phone to her ear, but it goes right to voicemail. She ends the call and waits a minute or so before she redials, hoping that maybe he’s on another call and is distracted, but she just gets his voicemail again.

He doesn’t want to talk to her. Doesn’t want to see her. And her stomach lurches, shoulders heaving raggedly as her breath gets stuck in her throat.

She can’t blame him. She had put him in the most compromising position tonight, taken unnecessary risks, and made questionable choices to say the least.

She looks at his door longingly, thinking if maybe she stares hard enough it’ll open and he’ll appear out of nowhere, but the door remains closed and he’s nowhere to be seen.

She turns on her heels and wipes under her eyes at the burning tears threatening to spill over, a horrible ache pulsating inside of her as she walks back to her car and starts to head home, ready to crawl into her bed and try and sleep this night away.

When she finally turns down her street sometime later she spots his truck parked up outside of her building. He’s standing next to his driver’s side door, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted towards the ground. He’s waiting for her and the sight of him makes her heart nearly stop beating.

She can just barely make out the look on his face in the glow of her headlights, but it resembles something a lot like betrayal and it sends a rush of guilt through her immediately.

She parks a few spots behind him and takes a deep breath as she gets out of her car. She tries to somehow prepare herself for whatever he’s about to dish out to her, but she’ll take whatever he has to say because at least he’s there.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” she says quietly, approaching him with slow moving steps and a once again fast beating heart as she shoves her hands into her coat pockets.

As she stands in front of him she takes in the soft look of his eyes and the anguish that curtains his face. She realizes it wasn’t betrayal she had seen just moments ago, but sheer disappointment instead, just like earlier at the crime scene, and it guts her again.

“Figured we should talk. I didn’t wanna leave things the way we did at the scene,” he tells her, his voice a matching tone of quiet and reserved.  

“I went to your apartment. Tried calling.”

“My phone died so I just came over,” he says.

She responds with a tilt of her chin towards her apartment building in silent invitation and he follows a few steps behind her inside.

They ride the elevator up to her floor without uttering a word, him standing in one corner and her in another, time seeming to pass too slowly as if taunting her. She glances over at him, but his eyes are down to the floor, lost in his own mind and thinking too hard.

When the elevator finally halts and the familiar ding chimes through the car they step out onto her floor and head for the door of her apartment, him still a few steps behind her and keeping his distance.

She lets them into her apartment, closing the door after him and turning the deadbolt, but she’s quick to notice he doesn’t move any further inside than where he stands by the door.

She steps away from, pulling off her jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch before throwing him a look over her shoulder. “Water? Beer?”

He shakes his head and stays planted where he stands, hands in his pockets now and staring back at her as Hailey moves towards the kitchen island. She leans back against it, crossing her arms in front of her as she looks at him. He still doesn’t move or take off his jacket, and it makes her stomach churn at the memory of them standing in similar positions not too long ago when she had been so certain he was going to leave her.

She knows she made a mistake, a few of them, and she knows she hurt him and the last thing she wants is him to leave or think she wants him to, so she blows out a deep sigh and walks towards him.

“I’m sure you might want your space from me after what happened and I have no right to ask,” she says, words coming out in a rush before she hesitates, breathing out and looking at him with near desperation. “Will you please stay?”

Jay stares back at her for a fraction of a moment and it’s long enough to set her mind reeling in fear that she’s jeopardized everything between them now, but he surprises her like he always does and gives a slow nod.

“If I wanted space I wouldn’t have come. I didn’t think that’s something either of us needed right now.”

His tone is sincere despite the sadness looming over his face and she breathes out in relief as she offers a small smile and takes another step closer towards him. She reaches for his arms, pulls his hands from his pockets, feels his eyes burning into her as she pushes his jacket down over his shoulders.

She drapes it over her arm and holds onto one of his hands, her thumb brushing over freckled skin as she lifts her eyes to his, then whispers, “I’m really glad you came.”

He nods again and gives her hand a quick squeeze, but doesn’t say anything more, just follows her with his eyes when she lets go of him and goes to place his jacket down over hers on the couch. She makes her way back to him and reaches for one of his hands again, twining their fingers together as she leads him into her bedroom.

They fall into their usual routine, one they’ve created and perfected with one another since that first night together many months ago, although tonight it’s silent between them. There’s no mindless small talk or teasing one another from across the room, but it’s still so domestic and easy and somehow comfortable despite the circumstances. It sends an ache through her chest as they do their own thing, but they still do it together. As if they’ve been doing it for a lifetime already.

She strips and changes into a pair of clean underwear, and grabs a t-shirt from the basket of fresh laundry on the floor that has yet to be put away. A mindless chore she’ll save for tomorrow when she has more energy.  

She pulls the t-shirt over her head and when it falls to just above her knees, it’s only then she realizes that the garment doesn’t belong to her, but to the man standing across the room in just his boxers.

She glances over at Jay who quickly catches her eye and looks her up and down as he settles beneath the sheets and leans back against the headboard. “Is that my shirt?”

Hailey makes her way to the bed, pulling her hair out from its ponytail and dropping the tie on her nightstand as she climbs in beside him. She sits in a pretzel position as she faces him and gives a shrug of her shoulders. “I just grabbed it from the basket. I can change if you - “

He shakes his head, smiling fondly at her. “You look good in my shirt Upton.”

The corners of her mouth tip upwards at his comment, but she can’t help fiddling with her hands that rest in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” Hailey breathes out, not able to withstand the awkwardness in the air between them any longer and needing to talk to him, really talk to him. “I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have gone into that house. I put you in a tough spot tonight and I’m so sorry.”

“God, I hate that word,” she scoffs then before he can say anything and runs a hand through her hair. “Sorry. It doesn’t fix anything and I know it’s not supposed to, but apologizing still doesn’t condone what I did tonight.”

He gives a slow nod and glances down and she can tell he’s trying to find the words. The right words because he won’t be mean or raise his voice to try and make a point. Not with her.

She watches the way his shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath he takes, and then he looks back up at her with tired eyes from the stress and the chaos and the worry of the day behind them.

“I accept your apology, but I don’t want you to be sorry Hailey,” he says quietly before releasing a dejected sigh. “I want you to be safe. I want you to be smart. You crossed a line tonight and it was the same exact line you crossed that got you shipped off to the Feds last year.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “I got caught up in it. The case and Voight coming down on me and I started second guessing myself, and then that kid was killed and all I could focus on was finding the guy who killed him. I just didn’t care about doing it the right way. I felt like I had to prove something, but I just ended up losing control again.”

“I get it Hailey. Trust me, I get it. Especially when it comes to kids. And I know the system is flawed and it doesn’t always work the way it’s supposed to, but if tonight had turned out any differently than it did, we’d be screwed right now.”

“You’re right,” she says with another nod, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes because she knows how bad a turn things could have taken with her behavior and the thought alone makes the guilt inside her thicken. “I was so blinded by all of it and I just reacted. I don’t know why I keep doing these things. Crossing lines and pulling people down with me. Pulling you down with me. I was so stupid. I was reckless and I put you in jeopardy.”

Her heart is pounding in her chest, anxiety creeping up on her, as she lifts a hand to run it through her hair again.

“Voight’s not stupid though,” she continues a moment later. “He knows you covered for me. He knows we lied. I don’t want you getting in the middle of those crosshairs, not for me. I don’t wanna cause problems for you. I don’t wanna change who you are because I make dumb decisions.”

He shakes his head at her and leans forward, reaching for one of her hands and holding it tightly between both of his. “I’m not worried about Voight. He’s not exactly the poster boy for doing the right thing. I chose to get out of the car. I chose to follow you inside that house. I made my own decisions and I take full responsibility for that.”

“I put you in that position though!” She groans, blowing out a deep sigh of regret. “You know I didn’t do that intentionally right? You have to know that.”

“I do,” he confirms with a squeeze of her hand. “And you know I’d follow you anywhere Hailey, but it’s a slippery slope that you’ve been walking on and what happened tonight? That can’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” she whispers.

She knows her words are meaningless, but it’s a promise she can still make. One that she’ll follow through on. Because of him, because of them, because he really does make her better. Makes her want to be better.

She’s not sure she deserves the softness of his eyes or the warmth of his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, but she’s never been more grateful for the way he anchors her in place in that moment. The way he keeps her from spinning out completely from the frustration and the guilt of her bad decisions and the events that have transpired over the last few days.

“Um, there’s something else you should know,” she says with caution in her voice and he raises an eyebrow at her curiously. “I had to stop off at the district earlier after we wrapped at the crime scene for paperwork and I told Voight we’re together. Officially I guess.”

“Didn’t he already know? Or at least assume anyways.”

“Yeah, but I also sort of made the suggestion of getting a new partner,” she confesses. “He said he wasn’t gonna split us up though. Said we’re a good team.”

“Well, that’s one thing he’s right about. We’re good together. Always have been,” he tells her. He glances down at their joined hands and then looks back up at her, a curious gaze lingering in his eyes. “Do you really want a new partner?”

She gives a slow shake of her head and a look of regret comes over her face. “I only suggested it because I thought I couldn’t have both worlds, ya know? You and me on the job, you and me here like this. I’m trying to figure it all out, us and the work stuff. I thought I had to give up one to have the other and I’m really glad I didn’t have to do that tonight.”

“That’s good because I don’t want a new partner. I just want you, but I need you to hear me when I say you’re not alone. You don’t have to deal with these things on your own. The cases, Voight, any of it. I know that’s not how you’re used to things, having someone on your side like that, but I’m here Hailey. Let me help you carry some of it, okay?”

He squeezes her hand for good measure and stares at her with his bright green eyes, soft and sweet, one of the only ways he ever looks at her these days. It sets her skin on fire, chest aching, every nerve ending shooting off with so much love and appreciation for the man in front of her. She’s not sure what she’s done to be so lucky to have a partner like him, not just on the job, but in life as well, and it makes everything inside of her ache in the best possible way.

She nods, looking back at him with a teary eyed smile and bringing her free hand up to her face to wipe at her eyes.

“I really love you, you know that? I swear I don’t deserve you,” she tells him. “And that’s not me being self-deprecating or cynical, it’s just me appreciating what I have. What we have. I got really lucky with you.”

He grins at her instantly, the sound of her saying she loves him being one of his favorite things and because he knows exactly what she means. Their track records in dating and relationships and love have all been a wash. Nothing tangible, nothing to hold on to, to depend on. But this thing with them, this unadulterated thing with its strong foundation and an ability to communicate so perfectly, even when it’s hard, reminds him that this is the kind of thing they’ll be talking about years from now.

When they’re old and grey and still together, still talking, still loving, still trusting. Their story will be the one people ask to hear about at parties and dinners and holidays. The one that people will hear when the question is asked, “How’d you do it for so long? How’d you make it work?”

He already has his answer for when those questions are asked. It’s the same one he whispers to her now in the quiet of her bedroom and the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

“It helps having a good partner.”

Her smile widens at his words and she drops her free hand down on top of his, plays with his fingers and squeezes them against hers.

“This is becoming our new thing, ya know?”

“What’s that?”

“This pillow talk business. Our old thing was some dive or Molly’s over beer, but I gotta say I much prefer my bed,” she tells him with a grin that matches his.

“Well, I do love your bed. I might love you just a little bit more though,” he says.

It’s tooth achingly sweet the way the words roll of his tongue so easily and it has her rolling her eyes, but she can’t rid herself of the smile stretched out over her face.

It still amazes her, still makes her head spin, how they can go from talking through such serious topics of conversation, of hashing things out, to teasing one another so playfully, so intimately.

The last few days have made her second guess everything. Her ability to be a cop, to be better, to separate her work life and her personal life with him. She knows it won’t be easy, but she knows they’re going to make it. They’ll make it work.

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on the thought of it not working out with the way he smiles at her still. His eyes soft and glistening with so much love and affection as he stares at her.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Jay says then, as if reading her mind, but she doesn’t even question it. He’s always been able to read her. Know exactly what she’s thinking. Exactly what she needs.

“Yeah, we are,” she agrees with another tight squeeze of their joined hands.

“Come here,” he says with a tug of her hand.

She lifts herself to her knees to crawl the short distance to him and he pulls her down beside him. He helps her settle under the covers, their bare legs tangling together beneath the sheets, and his arms wrap her up in a cocoon of love and safety that only he has ever been able to provide her.

Her head lies against his shoulder and her arm falls across his torso, hand resting on his stomach and their eyes stay on one another in a tender gaze. She drags her fingernails over his skin in feather light caresses and he moves his arm up her shoulder to glide his hand through her hair.  

“This is my favorite part of every day,” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“Mine too,” he says, angling his head down to press his lips against her forehead. His lips linger there, pressing into her skin again, then once more before he pulls back to look her in the eyes.

“I wish I could do tonight differently,” she finds herself whispering as she stares at him. “I wish I could take it back.”

He knows instantly by the sound of regret laced in her words and the sudden appearance of sadness clouding her eyes again.

“What’s done is done. Whatever happens as a result, we’ll deal with it together,” he says squeezing her side. A gentle nudge reminding her they’re okay, that he’s got her, that things will be okay.

She turns her face into his shoulder, pressing a kiss against his bicep and moving her hand up to his chest, right over top of where his heart lies under skin and muscle and bone. It beats slowly beneath her palm, another steady, gentle reminder that he’s still there with her, that she hasn’t ruined this, them. That he’s still in it.

He stretches over her for a moment to switch off the lamp on the nightstand on her side, and then his arm falls back around her. He tightens his hold on her just a fraction more around her body as he tilts his head and kisses the top of hers before they settle into the softness of the bed and each other.

She’s always wondered how couples could sleep this way, cuddled together so closely like they show in movies and on television. She had always thought it couldn’t be comfortable for either person, but as she lies in bed with him, nestled under covers with her body pressed up against his and his arms holding her tightly, she realizes she wouldn’t want to fall sleep any other way. Wrapped up beside him is her favorite place to be. Her own little safe haven where nothing can hurt her or cause her pain or make her feel like less of who she is.

She’s never been dependent on anyone. Hasn’t ever needed anyone until him. But it’s not because she’s that kind of person, someone who needs a relationship or a significant other to make her feel better about herself or to quiet the voice in her head that whispers she’s not good enough, not worthy enough.

It’s because he makes her better. Makes her want to be better despite her actions tonight. He makes her feel invincible. Like she could face any battle and win a million times over because he has so much faith and trust in her, so much unwavering love for her.

She’s certain that regardless of everything that has happened over the last few days they really will be okay. That this thing between them is going to last, both their relationship and their partnership, that they’re it for one another. They’re the endgame.

#upstead #upstead fic #upstead fanfiction #hailey upton #jay halstead #chicago pd #hailey x jay #jay x hailey

[ssoojinism]

BONNIE & CLYDE | pjm

Pairing ; criminal! Jimin x criminal! y/n

Genre : angst, nsfw (16+), crime au

Warning : alcohol consumption, kissing, graphic murder (pretty gory but some might find it isn’t, idk)

Plot summary :-

“you make this world a little wild, and we shout through crowded streets, turn up the noise and make it loud, and let the world fall at our feet,”.

The story of you living a reckless life with your boyfriend, Park Jimin as the most wanted criminal couple in the big city of Seoul. Inspired by Yuqi's Bonnie and Clyde and also the story of Bonnie and Clyde itself.

[next]

--

The atmosphere in the nightclub located in the center of Seoul is very noisy with the presence of young people dancing on the dance floor, enlivened with lively songs and colorful lights flooding the dark room. The smell of alcohol filled the space mixed with the smell of sweat from those who were still fiercely dancing at the middle of the club.

Meanwhile, in one corner, there was a woman sitting alone in a drinks bar accompanied by the alcohol she had ordered before. She was seen staring at another man who was also sitting not far from her sitting spot. The man who was also aware of her gaze turned around and carved a sweet smile, making the girl to shyly blushed. She then sipped on her drink to relieve the embarrassment before she got startled by a voice that suddenly greeted her out of nowhere.

“Are you new?” He asked.

His voice dripping with honey, not too deep and not too feminine as it’s sounds a bit raspy to her ears. A seductive smile and droopy eyes staring at her that had her heart beating a little bit too faster than usual.

“Kinda. I always want to try the alcohol here,” she said. He then stares at the glass in her hand.

“Martini. Nice one,” He complimented. “Whiskey sour is my favorite,” he added, showing her his half empty glass. She just smiled before he lifted his glass, signaling her for a cheer which she then clashed her glasses with his.

“What’s your name?” He asked first before sipping his drink.

“Yerin,”

“Cute. I’m Jimin,” He reached out for a handshake. Yerin happily accept it but when she about to pull back, Jimin tighten the grip of his hold while staring deep into her face, causing the girl to get flustered, especially when she saw the way his pupil dilated and get darker as he darted his tongue out to wet the bottom of his lips.

“I wonder if you’re…single?”

--

Her back slammed against the brick wall before Jimin once again hovered her to attack her lips for another messy, rough kiss. Yerin let out a breathy moan, her hands wrapping around his neck to deepen the kiss.

“Jimin, Jimin!” She tapped his shoulders for attention but he didn’t seem to listen when he continued to french kissing her like there is no tomorrow.

“Let’s get a room, yeah?” She suggested after she managed to get him off from her for a while. He pouted. “But I can’t wait any longer,” He whined.

Yerin blushed. “It’s embarrassing to have people watching,” She replied while looking around the alley. It was dark but anyone could freely walk in to them so she rather doing it in a closed area. “I will rent a room and I’ll let you do whatever you want, okay?”

Jimin’s lips curled into a mischief smile and nodded. He gets off to let her walk out from the alley towards the open streets but after like one or two step, her way got blocked by someone, judging from a strange silhouette in front of her.  

“Who-“

Yerin looked up and saw you, standing in front of her with switchblade in your hand, pointing towards her. Her brows connecting in a confusing manner.

She recognizes you. You are the woman sitting next to her at the bar back then. She remembers you ordering beer next to her and silently drinking while Yerin still busy having her great time with Jimin before.

But why are you suddenly show up like this? Pointing a knife at the base of her throat in a threatening manner like she doesn’t even know you!

Yerin doesn’t even get a chance to scream because you had slashed her neck open with the switchblade, the blood splatter on your black dress and some even landed on your face too.

The woman collapses lifelessly with her eyes still wide open. You breathe out meanwhile Jimin stepping out from the shadow with a grin.

“That was beautiful, baby!” He applauded, referring to the gruesome image in front of him. You sent him a glare before let out a grunt while walking away, earning a confuse look from your boyfriend.

“Hey! At least get her wallet! Gosh,”

Jimin get into the car after he managed to retrieve the wallet and some jewelry belongs to their previous victim and he saw you wiping the remaining blood on your face, even trying to erase the red lipstick painted on your lips but Jimin was quick enough to stop you from doing so.

“Why are you trying to ruin your lipstick? You know I like it,” He whined, lips jutting into a disappointed pout.

“Uh huh. I know. That’s why I wear this for you but I always ended up seeing you kissing someone else. So, what’s the point?”

You tugged your wrist back while Jimin drew a smile. “Come on. This is not the first time we doing this. You kissed and seduced someone else too. Fair and square, isn’t it?”

“You think I enjoyed it!?” you barked.

“Woah, chill their babe. Okay, I’m sorry, okay?” He apologized, bringing both his palm together in an apologetic manner. You instead glared at him, brows still creasing together.

“Fuck you!” Your snarl doesn’t intimidate him at all that he replied with a wide grin since he knew that you didn’t mean those words at all.

“I love you too,” he reached out for your face to cup them in his palm, squishing your cheeks gently that even you automatically leaned in for more contact since you’re too used to his affectionate touches.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” His whisper makes your eyes flicked up to meet with his face, at the same time making your expression to soften as soon as you met with the pretty face of him.

“Yes please,” With a nod, you answered. He didn’t let you wait for any other second as he crashed his plump lips on your soft one. You quickly buried your fingers into the his light blonde locks, messing them a bit while your lips busy moving in sync to his kiss as if they just found their rightful home.

--

When he arrived at the scene, he could see group of people circling around the area. Seokjin padded his way towards the crime site, carefully slipping in between the crowds who chattering and whispering at the sight of the forensic team busy taking photos and collecting evidence.

“Captain Kim,” Seokjin immediately turned around when his underling coming from behind. Namjoon then handed up some pieces of photos to him. It was the photograph of the victims and some close up to the wounds that was believed to be the cause of her death.

“Victim known as Shin Yerin, 26 years old was found dead by the bartender of the nearer club this morning. The body has been brought to the forensic for autopsy. They however assumed that the victim had been slit in the neck by a sharp weapon, thus being the cause of her death. After a few more research, victims also lost her jewelries and purse which led it to a murder and robbery case,” Namjoon summarized everything he could get from his early investigation.

“I believe the crime was committed by the same persons,” He added. Seokjin pursed his lips.

“It’s definitely them,” He sighed. He obviously was talking about you and Park Jimin.

You and Park Jimin are the infamous criminal partners that are currently being at the top of the police wanted list. Based on some witnesses, both of you are known to be a pair of attractive that would seduce their victims, lure them into a quiet spot to brutally murder them – by slashing their neck – before proceeding to fled along with valuable things belongs to the victims.

“This is their fourth victim, Captain…” Namjoon said with worries painted all over his face. “We can’t let them roaming around any longer. They will put more people in danger,”

Seokjin was silent for a while, staring at the chalk outlines that used to mark the original position of the dead victim.

“What did she do in her past?”

Namjoon let out a sigh, as if he knew what is running in his head when his superior began to throw that question. Namjoon flipped the notepad in his hand to read another information he has written down before.

“Shin Yerin, has a history involving hit and run case. The case happened around 2 months ago where she ran over a 12 years old boy. The boy died. She was arrested but later was released with no specific reason. I believe it involved bribery,”

Seokjin smirked. “Heh, I knew it,”

One thing he are sure about this couple is that they didn’t target just random people. Majority of their victims are people that have criminal past that most of them managed to get away from getting the punishment they deserve. For example, their previous victim is a man in 50s, whose the occupation is a teacher at one of the private schools in Seoul. He was once reported to have sexually assaulted some of his students, both boys and girls but he was freed from being sentence as they said that he lacked of evidence.

A week later, he was found dead in a car with his pants half undone other than the familiar slash on his neck which obviously, it was your doing.

Namjoon let out a low grunt which it immediately distracted Seokjin. “But it’s still doesn’t justify their actions, Captain. Murder is still considered as murder. Those are crimes and they need to be charged over it!” Namjoon exclaimed.

“You know something about them, isn’t it, Captain?” The younger squinted his eyes at him. “You are the only officer that managed to see their face. Why you didn’t give out their details when we ask for your testimony?”

Seokjin glared at him with brows a deep frown. “I told you that I barely saw their face. I don’t know how they look. Do you really think I’m lying? You doubt me?” The older guy had both his palm on his hips while staring deep into Namjoon’s soul.

“I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to offend you. I’m just making sure,” Namjoon lowered his head, cowering at Seokjin’s sharp stare that didn’t stop from penetrating his face. It made him realized that he probably has spoken something he shouldn’t. Seokjin snorted.

“Whatever. Send reports on my table once they are done with the autopsy. Call me if you guys need anything,” Namjoon nodded. Seokjin turned his heels around as he slowly walking away, with Namjoon bowing at him while telling him to have a safe journey. Seokjin quietly fishing out his phone out of his jeans.

He slammed the door of his car shut once he entered it with his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. It was shown that he was calling someone with “***” saved as the ID of the mysterious person. Seokjin quickly pressed his phone on his ears while eyes looking out if anyone is watching him at the moment.

--

Hums and giggles can be heard throughout the air. Clothes can be seen scattering on the floor of the hotel room and there’s also two figures hiding under the thick white comforters before one of them decided to pop out to take a breath after being confine under it for a long period of time. Jimin later on followed that he appeared on top of you just to cup your face and smooched your lips again and again.

The kissing got interrupted when your phone on the nightstand rang but you decided to ignore it by letting Jimin proceed with the making out, not even bothering to shove him to answer the call or anything.

But as the time goes on, the ringtones start to irritates your ears that you told Jimin to hold on so you could check on whoever the hell that was bothering you at the moment. Your eyes rolled when you see the ‘Captain Busybody’ ID popped up at the top of your screen. You never felt this confident when rejecting someone’s call, especially from that person.

“Is it him?” Jimin asked. You nodded, lips pouting.

“Ignore him,” He dived into your naked collarbone to leave another mark even though your skins are already full with his love bites he made from last night. But you never complain, instead you enjoyed the way his lips trailing down your skins, making it way to your stomach, lower and lower.

“Yeah, Jimin. Please eat me out, will you?” You demanded, inviting a Cheshire like grin on his lips.

“Of course, m’lady..”

You leaned back on the pillow, relaxing your body and let Jimin do his work when another ringing breaking the moment, making your eyes to shot open. An annoyed groan emits from your throat as you rolled to get the phone and answer it because if you don’t, he will definitely not letting you leaving in peace.

“What the fuck do you want?” No hello or hi, you straight growling at Seokjin. The male’s guess was right though.

“Sorry. Did I bother you?”

“You always bothering me. Are you not aware of that?”

“Is Jimin with you?” His question makes your eyes moving lower to look at your boyfriend who just came up to comfortably lying on your chest, one of his hand fondling with one of your boobs, treating them like a stress ball. When he saw you looking at him, he just draws an adorable smile without saying any words.

“He is. Now, what do you want?” You replied lazily.

“We found another bodies today,” His unimportant information makes you to rolled your eyes once again.

“Okay and?”

“You two did it?”

“So, what if we did it? That woman is one of the scums on this Earth too. Sleeping with your higher ups in return for a jail bail. She deserves to get her neck slashed by me,” You glanced at Jimin who obviously was proud by your witty answer. But, of course, Seokjin was not having it.

“You still can get arrested, y/n. You are literally one of the most wanted criminals right now along with Jimin! Do you ever plan to stop?”

“Blah, blah. Are you done? We are busy right now. If that’s what you want to talk about, I’m hanging up,” You wish you could throw your phone away and let Jimin fuck you senselessly like what he supposed to do.

“I’m being serious, Y/N!”

“So am I,” This time you sat up a little bit but your boyfriend still clinging on your chest, burying his face into your skin despite you have those annoyed frowns on your face since he know, the frowns aren’t made for him.

“Look, Seokjin. We broke up ages ago. Back then when you barely care about me as you are busy chasing your dream to be a police officer. Now, you got what you want and I’m happy with my life too,” Seokjin scoffed at your last statements.

“Your life? Your life as a criminal? Are you happy with that?” His question earned him a chuckle.

“Yeah, so what? I chose this. I don’t care about your nags or if you disagree with my choice, just stop sticking your nose into my business like you are my mother. We are supposed to be done long time ago!” You ended the call with a loud grunt before tossing them to the side of your bed. Jimin’s snuggling into your neck made you to close your eyes and taking a deep breathe to soothe your anger.

“You alright?” Your boyfriend brushing some strands of your hair that were sticking on your face. You nodded, drawing a tiny smile at him. He never fails not to make you feeling calmer everytime you look at those eyes. The eyes that deceive lot of people despite on how innocent they look.

“Yeah. You know, Seokjin just bothering me like what he always does,” You let out a sigh while brushing your hair back. Jimin smiled as he once again snuggling into your skins like a cat which only make you to giggle when his breathe tickling your skins.

“Understandable. I mean, I, too, wouldn’t stop bothering if you looking this gorgeous,” You burst into a laugh when his ticklish touch spreading to your sensitive spots on your neck that make you to fall your back on the mattress where even Jimin immediately get on top of you.

You stuck your tongue out to licked on your bottom lips as your palms running down his bare chest, your fingers dancing on the inked skins at his abdomen.

“I love you,” You whispered. Jimin tilted his head, lips never stop smiling at you while he rests his forearms above your head to support his weight. He somehow didn’t respond you right away to planted a soft kiss on your lips before he finally whispered something against your lips.

“I love you too,”

--

A/N : This is pretty short bcs its just introduction to the characters haha next chapter would be a flashback to y/n’s early backstory

#jimin #bts #bts smut #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin imagine #bts imagine

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp comte #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #back at it again with that fangdad propaganda #I love him so much oTL #it would be worth getting flicked/chided by Sebas i regret nothing #im so softe chirren (**offkey kazoo** CAAAAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE T O N I G H T) #also though it was probably obvious i am 100% team MC will become a vampy and stay with leo forever someday #i Pretend I Do Not See ikevamp canon #also for the record idk why i went from his perspective to hers after the shakes hc but here we are Welcome To My Twisted Mind #im sorry if that caused any confusion or dissatisfaction with the rest of the writing hasjfgdhskj kind of set a false precedent by accident #anywho please enjoy what my spoons have managed <3333 #now i need to work on that masterlist i promised you all #i do be chugging along slowly but surely #not incorrect quotes #rambles

[blu-joons]

He Threatens To Cancel Your Wedding ~ Lee Hyukjae

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” Hyukjae announced, allowing your hand to slip out of his.

The whole room fell silent as he threw the planning book he held to the side, standing up from his seat on the floor. Donghae quickly shot up from where he sat too, pushing against Hyukjae’s chest to sit back down beside you, but his head shook swerving to the left of his best friend’s hold.

As he passed Donghae, he came into contact with Shindong and Siwon who raced over to stand in the doorway of the studio, providing a much bigger challenge for him to pass. “What are you doing?” Siwon yelled, pushing lightly against Hyukjae’s shoulder. “Or more to the point, where are you going?”

Hyukjae stopped, glancing back at you sat on the floor, with Kyuhyun beside you, a tight arm wrapped around your side. “We can’t agree on anything, all of this wedding planning is just getting to us both, maybe it’s best if we just give it a rest for now.”

“What do you mean just give it a rest for now?” You questioned, grabbing a hold of the planning book that Ryeowook picked up and passed across to you.

Hyukjae sighed, taking a step away from the two men in the doorway. “I think we should call the wedding off until we’re in a much better place, at this rate we’ll end up arguing down the alter, what sort of wedding would that be?”

Shindong reluctantly stepped aside allowing Hyukjae to walk out of the room, sensing that space would be the best thing for you both, whilst the rest of the members quickly gathered around you. Your hands allowed the book to fall, the book that the two of you had made note of all your wedding plans in for the past six months.

“He’s just overreacting,” Heechul frowned, the quickest member to try to reassure you, “he’d be crazy not to marry you Y/N, you’re both just overwhelmed right now, and he’s clearly not thinking straight.”

“He knew exactly what he was saying Heechul.”

Jungwoon’s head shook, “I don’t think he does. I know it’s easy for all of us to say, but he’s not shut up about this wedding. Once he’s cooled down, he’ll realise what a huge mistake he’s made. Please, don’t worry.”

That night however, all you could do was worry. Thankfully Donghae had offered you the spare room at his apartment for the night to give you some space away from Hyukjae, all of the boys had desperately tried to encourage you to talk to him, but you just couldn’t face it.

Hyukjae failed to appear back at the studio for the rest of the day too. He soon made his way back to your house, giving himself the time to calm down. He sat on the sofa for hours waiting for the front door to open, but you never made an appearance.

The one night without your presence soon became two, and then three, and then four as you continued to refuse to go back home. Somehow Donghae managed to keep the secret that you were at his place from Hyukjae, despite his numerous pleas for one of them to tell him where you were.

“Are you really expecting her to just come running back?” Jeongsu asked him as the boys sat around for lunch, and Hyukjae yet again requested for someone to tell him your whereabouts.

“I just want the chance to talk to her.”

Jeongsu’s head shook in disbelief, “you told her exactly how you felt a few days ago, I think she’s probably heard enough from you. Dong- “

Everyone tensed up as Jeongsu quickly stopped himself from talking, shuffling awkwardly as Donghae shot him a glare. Hyukjae’s head snapped around to look at his best friend, as soon as he met his eyes, he knew there was no way Donghae was going to be able to lie to him.

“She’s with you, isn’t she?”

Donghae quickly turned to the rest of the group for help, but the redness in his cheeks was enough to let Hyukjae know the answer to his question. He stood up from the floor, racing over to the row of benches to pick up his bag and pull his car keys out.

“If she’s not there, you’ve all got some explaining to do,” he yelled out, running straight out of the studio and down to the car park, silently praying that you’d still be there.

You opened up the door to the shower, adjusting your jumper so it sat perfectly against your jeans. The view of the river out of Donghae’s apartment was always enough to calm you down whenever you felt yourself getting worked up, taking a seat at his dining table so you could look out.

A few minutes later you were disturbed by a loud knock at the door. You sighed, as the knocking became louder and louder until you finally opened the door. As soon as you did, you quickly tried to push it shut, but a foot came forwards acting as a barrier.

“You can’t ignore me forever,” Hyukjae sighed, pushing the door open, “why would you come here all of all places? This isn’t your home.”

“And you think your place is my home?” You spat, reluctantly letting him into the apartment. “You made it clear how you feel about me, you don’t want to marry me so why would you want to live with me? I’m going to look for a place of my own in a few days.”

“Y/N,” he whispered as you made your way back over to your spot at the dining table.

His footsteps were silent as he followed behind you, trying to figure out a way to make this right. His hands brushed over his face as he sat down at the table opposite you, trying to look for your eyes, which were firmly out on the river.

“What can I do to make this right?” He asked you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at how reckless he had become. “Why do you want to make it right? You were the one that wanted to call off our wedding, what’s made you change your mind? I don’t want to marry an indecisive man Hyukjae.”

“All we were doing was arguing, cancelling the wedding just seemed like the only way out of constantly shouting and yelling at each other.”

Your head shook, struggling to believe a word that he said. “What on earth went through your head to think cancelling the wedding was the answer? How could you not see that that would’ve just upset me and hurt me more?”

He’d almost become numb to your feelings with how often the two of you argued, his mind went into panic, whilst cancelling the wedding was the last resort, he was also aware now of how much of a mistake it was on his part.

“Do you really want to cancel?” You outrightly asked, finally looking across at him for a piece of sincerity.

His head shook immediately in response to you, “of course, not. I was stupid for even saying such a thing when I didn’t really mean it. The boys didn’t want to tell me where you were, and you weren’t answering my texts or calls, I really thought I’d lost you.”

You smiled softly, reaching your hands across the table. Hyukjae frowned, tentatively reaching his own out, intertwining them in with yours. “If we’re arguing, we need to talk like grown ups Hyukjae, we can’t handle situations like this again.”

“You’re right. I promise, no more cancellations, and if you’ll still marry me, the wedding is still on,” he whispered, glancing across at you.

“Of course, I still want to marry you, I love you, you idiot.”

“Good, because I love you too.”

---

Masterlist

#super junior #super junior imagine #eunhyuk #eunhyuk imagine #lee hyukjae #lee hyukjae imagine #super junior reaction #super junior scenario #super junior imagines #super junior drabble #super junior one shot #eunhyuk reaction #eunhyuk scenario #eunhyuk one shot #eunhyuk drabble #super junior eunhyuk #suju #suju imagine #kpop #kpop imagine

[admiringlove]

VII: reckless; his mistake.

— atsumu isn’t one to take rash decisions but he couldn’t help himself. now, your heart is shattered.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 1.8k.

+warnings: angst. 

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @tanaka-ryu​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: taglist officially closed <3

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

You woke up in the morning, with Madam Pomfrey just by your bedside as she mixed a few herbs together in a mortar and pestle. You coughed, your throat dry as a tumbleweed, as your eyes widened.

Atsumu.

You tried getting up, the pain in your shoulder skyrocketing as you coughed even more. Madam Pomfrey was scolding you, but your ears were ringing—you could only hear a white noise as you coughed and the school nurse forcefully poured a nasty tasting medicine into your mouth, making you swallow it as she held your jaw softly. 

"There. You're good now, darling. Just lay down for a while, alright?" she said, rubbing circles on your back. Your mind raced as all you could do was nod at the woman, who moved onto the bed next to yours. 

That's Rin! 

You look at your figure in a frantic state—bandages wrapped from your left wrist to your shoulder, random purple bruises littered across your leg and arms with gashes in your other leg and torso. You grimaced at your sight, but then looked up and around in denouement. 

The curtains covered the bed to your right; you were trying your best to figure out who all was in the Infirmary with you. Till now, you could see Suna, Sakusa, Osamu, and Aran—

That's Atsumu, you gasped in revelation. Your eyes darting to the tiny space between the curtain and the wall just to get a glimpse of the boy. Just then a coarse voice stopped you, "Don't bother, [L/N]. You won't want to see that right now."

"Rin?" you whipped your head around and instantly regretting it because of the sudden rush of pain. Seeing the brown-haired boy get up as he winced made you feel almost guilty—it's because of you they were so hurt, wasn't it?

"This happens every month, don't worry," he coughed out as Madam Pomfrey scolded him about talking such 'posh'. He laughed it off, saying that if you and Atsumu weren't there, then his wounds would be worse. You opened your mouth to speak, but that was when you heard a grunt coming in from the other side of the curtain.

"Okay, hush now, both of you," Madam Pomfrey says, ruffling Suna's hair lightly as she grabbed a syringe and a bottle from the table and walked towards the other side of the curtain—simply so you two wouldn't have to see how bad Atsumu's wounds really were. 

And a couple of seconds later, when Miya Atsumu's screams filled the Infirmary, was when you realized—you shouldn't have followed him into the Shrieking Shack. 

"You're okay, now. That's all that matters," cheered Alisa as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner a few days later. You walked alongside them, hiding your bandages inside your robe. You hated how Atsumu was still in the Infirmary as the rest of you roamed about freely. It irked you to an extent where your nights felt almost sleepless. 

You would be thinking about him—contemplating whether you should have gone after him. Whether it would be any different if you had just let him go; if you had just waited for the next day to talk to him again. You never knew when you were falling asleep, just staring into the darkness till the depths of the night. 

You visited him in the Infirmary every day till he got discharged. You couldn't help but feel responsible for his wounds because honestly, who wouldn't? And when a week later, he was discharged, he didn't seem to even look you in the eye anymore. 

It drove you crazy—not feeling his burning stare at the back of your head every time you walked to Potions, him not even bothering to yell at you in Quidditch practice, him not teasing you about the Treacle Tarts during dinner, and you just missing his vague southern dialect barking at you for no reason whatsoever. You craved his slightly flirty comments that made your ears heat up in Transfiguration and Alchemy, how he'd say the dirtiest of things without failing to keep a straight face. You even wanted him to annoy you again or hit you with his Bludger so you could go to Hogsmeade with him. 

"You look like the saddest Bowtruckle ever," Suna nudged you as you sat alone in the Courtyard, chuckling as he sat down next to you and began talking, "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"How do you always know what to say, but you're the cockiest little shit ever?" you ask, closing your book and facing the chartreuse-eyed idiot, scoffing. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow as he says, "Wasn't it you that avoided him in the first place? Dare I say, you kinda deserve this."

"Oh, how I wish the unforgivable curses weren't illegal right now," you gritted your teeth, standing up from your place at the fountain and kicking a stray rock at Suna, "Because I could literally torture you right now."

"You should just kill me instead," he shakes his head. 

"Merlin's beard, you're one depressed little shit."

"You should talk to him," the annoying wolf catches up to you yet again, walking over to your left so he could stop you from turning to the staircases. You huffed, stomping one foot and placing a hand on your hip as you said, "Rin, for Salazar's sake, not this again."

"What? Classes are over, and he's literally rotting in the dorm. If I get him out after Quidditch today, will you talk to him? At least make the damn effort," Suna hisses, flicking your forehead as his expression clearly sprays more venom than his words. You sighed, shaking your head, "I need to think about it."

"Why the fuck-"

"He said he loved me on the full moon," you paused, "By the Black Lake?" you say hesitantly, making it come out more like a question than an answer. Your eyed averted to the floor, anywhere but Suna, who had his mouth wide open and his eyes actually intrigued in what you had to say now. He cleared his throat begrudgingly, coughing once or twice before saying, "What did you say?"

"We.. erm, got interrupted," you look back up to a shocked Suna, who was edging you to continue, "By erm... the Shack thing."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Rin lets out a breathy sentence, his whole demeanor turning into disappointment, "Why are there so many fucking... ugh!"

"Your pain is understandable, pussy bangs," you giggled, grabbing his robes slightly and leading him to the library to complete your homework. 

“Hey, don’t fucking call me that!”

You had continued to meet up with Kiyoko to go to Quidditch Practice that evening. You managed to catch the Snitch in a few minutes, earning a small, dissent "good job" from Atsumu. It made you smile just a smidge, glad for the smallest interaction in the past week that he had been discharged. A scintilla of regret slipping in your mind as you felt the urge to tease him as if everything was okay. 

Practice ended soon enough, you walking back to the changing rooms with Kiyoko and Osamu, talking about something or the other as you walked into the girls' changing room, parting with the grey-haired werewolf as Kiyoko began, "Osamu says he hasn't been sleeping."

"Stop," you sighed, taking off your shoes and socks as you sat on the bench next to the locker, "—you're not helping and you're making me confused. I talked to Suna, and I'm going to try to talk to Atsumu soon. I need to give him time."

"I literally didn't say anything," Kiyoko laughs, pulling on a grey jumper and jeans as she tilts her head, "You're doing good, bub."

"Thank you..?"

You reminisced about the times in third year how Atsumu used to say, "a cold shower is the answer to all problems", chuckling when you remembered the next part of that sentence as you plopped onto your bed, turning over and reaching to the bag of treats to slip them to Bo. You watched the grey owl slowly gulp down the treat, smiling contently as you hugged a pillow close to your chest. 

"God, Bo. It's late at night and I skipped dinner today of all days," you groaned, getting up to sit at your desk, your head on the table. The owl tilted its head, hooting a few times in response as if saying that you should go to the kitchens to get that snack after all.

"You're always right, Bo. Here have another treat," you cooed, feeding the bird one more crumb then walking out of the Common Room in your invisibility cloak. The House Elves were always kind to you, giving you a snack even in the middle of twilight, and keeping quiet when Filch questions them about how a few Treacle Tarts or dumplings are missing. 

You curse yourself when you almost bump into the wretched cat, namely Mrs. Norris, when you walked into the Kitchens. A House Elf gasped, running to the door and closing it immediately after you pulled off the cloak. 

"[Y/N] must not sneak out at night like this, it will get her into trouble!" Missy, a House Elf behind the counter shrieks. You stifle a giggle, petting the Elf's head lovingly and slipping her a scarf—your heart melting at how the female Elf blushed at the gift, immediately adorning it as she quickly reached into a jar and slipped you a few Pudding cups and Treacle Tarts(which you took into your jacket pocket) before wishing Missy a good night and walking back out. You were on your way back to the dorms when you heard a very... questionable noise, per se. 

"What in the name of Godric," you cursed, simply shaking it off as you walked down the stairs to the dungeons, but then hearing a voice that you knew way too well. 

Atsumu?

You gasped, running back up the stairs as you looked around frantically. The cloak covering you barely as you panted, finally finding the source of the said "noise".

To say you instantly regretted that decision, was probably the biggest understatement of the year. As you see Atsumu, pressing a girl against the wall of the empty hallway(which the professors normally don't check at this hour as they've already gone to sleep), as he left marks on her neck. The girl placed her hand on his head, tangling his piss strands with her nimble fingers as she bit down on her tongue. 

You couldn't believe it. 

It took him one week. One week, to get over you, who he had been pining over for years. He hadn't even thought twice to ask if the so-called "unrequited" feelings were reciprocated. 

You were heartbroken. 

So, what do you do? You let a few tears slip—wiping them away almost instantly as you walked back to the Common Room in rue. But what you didn't know, was that someone in their dorm was cursing out their brother as they looked at a very peculiar map in their hands. 

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya fanfiction #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu #miya osamu #suna rintarō #hq kiyoko #angst #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyū!! #hq #hq!! #hq angst #haikyuu angst

[morethanalittleconfused]

I accidentally wrote a 5k fanfic about incidents caused aboard the ghost by differences between species

I've been reading a lot of those old tumblr posts that are like “what if humans are actually just really, really hardy and alien species would be just completely blown away with the shit we put up with without a second thought” and it's got me thinking about the crew of the Ghost trying to get used to each other at first with three humans that are all just absolutely fucking insane, even more so than even your average human.

Rebels spoilers ahead, as well as a trigger warning for blood, vomit and general injuries

It starts with Hera and Kanan. It’s just the two of them, aboard the Ghost, and it takes some getting used to.

At first Hera is shocked by the way Kanan's body seemingly has no limits. He has never once complained about the temperature of the ghost, even when they were running low on power and Hera could feel her limbs start to get sluggish from the cold. Two weeks later he somehow managed to find his way back to the ghost after being in -2 degree Celsius weather for a half an hour with no coat on. When he walked back through the hatch with snow blowing in his loose hair and a red nose and said “it's cold as shit out there” after Hera had been panicking about losing him for the literal entire time, she had to practically scrape her jaw off of the floor. She would have been dead after a few minutes, and yet here he was, now steaming from a shower and shirtless, bitching about how the caf maker was broken.

As time went on, she learned his body did have some limits to the heat. At about 35 degrees he got irritable and short, but that was about when she started getting uncomfortably warm, too. But he would tolerate it. And more. He kept impressing her with the things he somehow managed to pull off, in conditions she would have thought would kill him. He could get knocked around far more than she thought he should be able to, and would haul himself back to the ship with a grin every time.

The way his body worked constantly surprised her. She noticed it first in how quickly he healed, and in how much he ate.

He could eat literally anything. Things she thought were poisonous for most species. He loved chocolate, and would easily eat ten times the amount that would send her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped. He could withstand a ridiculous amount of alcohol, and could drink unprocessed coffee with no problem by the cup. Caf didn't seem to really affect him because his body processed it so fast. And he ate so. Much. it was ridiculous. The good thing was it didn't really seem to matter what.

Hera didn't need much food, but it had to be good. It had to count. Too much filler and she would lose strength. Her body couldn't process a lot, and if what she got wasn't exactly what she needed, her health went downhill, quick.

Kanan was not the same. He could, and would, eat anything. He didn't have any noticeable preference for plants or meat, or the quality of the food. If he could get his hands on it, he would eat it. He would eat food out of the refrigerator she would have considered to be dangerous. He put appalling amounts of random, unrelated food in a pan, cooked it, and acted like that was an acceptable thing to do. Omelets? She hated the very idea but he seemed to think they were wonderful.

And yet, for all that, they had once been stranded for over a week with only enough rations for one, and Kanan had insisted that she take the vast majority of the ration bars. She pushed back, and he then presented her with the absolutely shocking fact that humans can survive for over a month with no food. She was absolutely flabbergasted, and he took advantage of her stunned silence to press another ration into her hand, smirk at her and say, “I can take it. Trust me.”

Another thing she noticed very quickly was how fast he healed.

He could be bleeding openly one minute, and the wound seemed to close itself the next. She knew human blood had clotting factors far beyond that of nearly any other being, but it was ridiculous how fast he sealed himself up. Further into their relationship she got to see this close up when she accidentally touched some of his congealed blood on the floor of the refresher after cleaning him up. She had had to turn away and take a few deep breaths at the slimy, gelatinous texture. He had gently huffed out a laugh.

“Kinda gross huh?”

“Yeah... it's… unique.”

“I've always been kind of fascinated by the way it congeals so quickly. Handy I guess.”

Out of sheer curiosity she had run the end of a pen through the small puddle and been horrified to see that it mostly stuck together.

“It just… does that? Inside you? And that doesn't cause problems?”

“It can. If it clots when it's not supposed to. But mostly it keeps me alive.”

And it did. And though she wouldn't say it to his face, his ability to pull through seemingly anything took just one more worry off her plate. His wounds would be almost completely closed in often under a week, where she would have been dealing with bandages and salves for a month. He almost never got infections, and could keep going with seemingly incapacitating injuries.

They had once narrowly escaped a fight with a gang of imps and made it back to the ghost with almost no problems. She had a sprained ankle, so he had supported her most of the way there, and they had patched up each other's scrapes. He had needed a bit of training so he didn't just slap a bandaid on what could have been a potentially life threatening injury for her, but he did alright. It was only later, when they were sitting in the cockpit, well into hyperspace, and he had coughed suddenly, when things went sideways. She turned to see blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth, and more on his hand when he pulled it away. They both looked at it for a moment, then Hera almost blacked out as a sudden wave of adrenaline washed over her.

“Kanan you're- are you- let me make the calc- are you dying?”

“What? Oh- no I had thought I just cracked a few of my ribs but it would appear I must have broken at least one of them.”

“BROKEN? Your bone? Like in half?”

“I- yeah?”

“Chopper we need to get to the nearest med center right now. Tell them were coming. I dont care if its a fucking imperial light cruiser”

“Wait no lets not be hasty-”

“HASTY? YOU BROKE YOUR BONES KANAN”

“Okay i know it looks bad but really i'm not going to keel over and die right now. Make sure it's a safe med center and cheap too. I can wait.”

“Kanan your bones are literally broken.”

“Yeah. It's happened before and it will happen again. I've broken my arm twice. I've broken one of the bones in my lower leg. A couple toes. At least one finger. And don't even get me started on my nose. It didn't always look like this.” At that he had huffed out a small laugh, but then winced and brought a hand to his lower chest. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and pulled up the hem of his shirt. She had started to avert her eyes at the sliver of hip he showed, but as he pulled the shirt up higher and revealed more, she felt the breath taken out of her. His skin was mottled a whole host of awful colors, angry and puffy. He coughed that wet cough again and said, “Maybe I do need a med center after all”

She was incredibly relieved when they dropped out of hyperspace and into the welcoming arms of medicine. She was less happy when Kanan was returned to her, that night no less, with only bandages around his chest and a note to “take it easy for a while” she was appalled to say the least.

His ridiculously resilient body sometimes created just as many problems as it solved, though. He got into bar fights after downing enough alcohol to kill a bantha, and got the piss kicked out of him. He ran headfirst into danger with little consideration for life or limb. He was reckless, and incredibly hotheaded, and overall behaved like a clown. She had no idea how the Jedi accepted humans into their ranks, if Jedi he was. Restraint, my ass.

His recklessness applied to food as well. He didn't really seem to mind what he ate, content with the knowledge that if it didn’t work out, he could always regurgitate it back up. Twi’leks could not vomit, like many other species. It was yet another bizarre human trait. The ability to purge substances from your body without them having to pass through your entire digestive tract and cause more issues had always seemed like a neat trick to Hera. That is, of course, until she saw it in action.

She was roused one night by a strange noise coming from the refresher, and she had padded to the door, only to find it open. Blinking in the harsh light, she saw Kanan curled on the floor, wearing no shirt. His hair was loose and hanging around his face, and he was panting heavily. She only had time to say “Kanan, what-” before he coughed and vomited into the bowl.

Her immediate reaction ricocheted from “Oh my god he's dying” to “I’m actually going to die just having to witness this” to “Oh stars he is actually dying” so fast she could barely process it. She was immediately horrified but had no idea how to help him.

“Kanan are you- do you need a medic? How- chop- CHOPPER! How do I help you? Are you hurt?”

He had turned and peered up at her with puffy eyes and a runny nose. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tried to talk but his voice came out too rough and he had to try again. Even then it was strangely thick.

“Hera? Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Am I okay Kanan? You're in here dying for stars sake and I have no idea how to help you and where the hell is chopper-”

“Hey. hey.” He turned away for a moment and took a long breath in through his nose. “Calm down for a sec. I feel like shit so you're going to have to talk slower. Are you hurt or something?”

“Hurt? No I'm not hurt i’m just- you- you're in here- I don’t even know-”

He closed his eyes and took another long breath in through his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah i’m just… trying really hard not to throw up again.”

“Oh.”

He opened his eyes again and looked up at her again.

She shifted against the door frame. “But you're… okay? This isn't life threatening?”

He huffed out a soft laugh, then seemed to immediately regret it as he dropped his head between his knees for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and tipped his head back up.

“No. I'm good, I just ate something bad at that pub. And I also probably drank a bit too much as well. But I think it was definitely the squids fault.”

“Oh. So this is… normal?”

“More so than I would like. Yes.”

“Okay so…” she took a deep breath to calm her nerves now that it was apparent he wasn't in any imminent danger. “Do you need anything? How can I help you?”

“Some tea maybe. Some crackers. Anything ginger you have. It'll work itself out with time.”

She stood in the door, unsure of what to do, wanting to help him, and watched as he drew a quick breath in and closed his eyes again.

“Hera. Tea. Now”

“Right.”

As she dashed to the kitchen she heard the sounds of retching from behind her.

  There were some strange things about humans that became interesting as their relationship developed beyond mere captain and crew. His hair, for example. At first she had thought it was appalling, the sheer volume of it. It was everywhere. But all it took was threading her hands through it a few times, and hearing the wonderful noises he made, before she quickly changed her opinion.

Related to his hair was the fact that humans seemed to enjoy a certain level of pain, which she could not understand. He would moan audibly when she tugged at his hair, which startled her the first time, in the best way. Once, when she was feeling particularly adventurous, she had dragged her sharp canines across the delicate skin of his throat, and had been surprised to find the taste of metal filling her mouth, sharp and bright. She was even more surprised at the way he had shuddered and come apart beneath her, just like that.  

Then, later, when Zeb and Sabine joined the crew, there was yet another learning curve as Hera adjusted to another human as well as a Lasat, and Zeb adjusted to Kanan and Sabine at the same time.

Sabine was just as reckless. She was a fighter too, but she didn't have the force to help her out. Hera had more than a few small heart attacks in the early days of Sabine's presence before she fully appreciated that she could take almost as much of a beating as Kanan. Sabine had once walked over a half a mile back to the ship with a broken leg, and when Hera pressed her on just how she managed to do that, Sabine had gotten quickly tired of the argument, ending it with a, “I don't know what to tell you, Hera! I didn't have any other options! I had to do it, so I did.”

Hera was used to most of Kanan's strange human quirks, but Sabine presented a new and entirely alarming one, which Hera first came in contact with on a supply run. Sabine needed a monthly supply of medical supplies. Hera knew very little about menstruation, as that was a trait entirely unique to human females. Why their biology decided that it was necessary was completely beyond Hera, it seemed incredibly inefficient. Sabine made as little fuss about it as possible, but Hera had embarrassed everyone about three months in when Sabine asked hera to go get her data pad from her room. Hera had burst back into the common room, and only then was able to identify the smell Sabine was carrying with her that had been tugging at the edges of Hera’s mind all day. Blood. She turned on Sabine with a very distressed, “Sabine are you injured? Are you sick?”

To which Sabine had responded, with a distinct note of confusion, “No? Why?”

And Hera, without thinking, had said, “There's blood all over your bed? Did you hurt yourself?”

Sabine had gaped at her for a moment, then blushed ever so slightly. “I uh- I forgot to wash my sheets after... Sorry. I forgot about that before I told you to go into my room.”

Hera still had not connected the dots and was opening her mouth to further interrogate Sabine as to why her bedsheets were covered in blood when Kanan had jumped up and said, “Hera! Let's go for a walk, yes?” and pulled her gently out of the room, but not before she heard Zeb turn to Sabine and say, “So, why were you bleeding?”

Zeb apparently hadn't had much contact with the more alarming of the humans' quirks, as he had his own room, until Ezra showed up. Then Zeb had to learn for himself just how absolutely wild human biology was for himself. He arguably had a rougher go of it, because while he had the rest of the crew to help him out, he was literally sharing a room with a teenage human.

The first time Ezra got food poisoning was just about as rough for Zeb as it was for Kanan and Hera, except it happened in Zebs room.  Ezra was mostly self-sufficient, but Zeb had come hollering down the hall. He had broken the “do not open my door without knocking” rule Hera kept firmly in place, but she couldn't even be mad at him. Hera was just glad Kanan had been in his own bed that night. She had woken to see Zeb standing in her door, his fur standing up like a spine down his back, one ear folded inside out, panting hard.

“Hera the kid- he’s- I don’t know what the fuck happened but he- I think he’s hurt- or- or something but I don’t know how to help him- it’s Ezra-”

At which point Kanan, who had been woken by Zebs racket, slid open his door wearing only his sleep pants. He took one moment to assess the situation, looked down the hall and said, “Oh, Ezra’s throwing up. Do you want me to take care of him, Hera?”

Hera sighed and got up from her bed.

“No, you get Zeb some tea or something. I've learned well enough how to hold hair back at this point.”

Zeb, still looking entirely horrified by the situation, allowed himself to be led into the galley by Kanan. Sabine poked her head out of her door, decided this crisis did not involve her, and went back to sleep.

The same situation had happened the first time Ezra had gotten a bloody nose in the middle of the night. It was the kind Hera had witnessed with Kanan, and knew firsthand how horrifying it was if one didn't know humans noses just Did That sometimes. It was a middle of the night kind of bloody nose, where Ezra had presumably woken up with blood all over his face and in his mouth and in his hair and on his sheets, and had tried to catch the blood in his hands, which was all well and good until he somehow had to get down from the top bunk and open two doors to get to the refresher. That left Zeb to wake up to a room smelling of blood, with blood on the floor, on the door panel, and a trail leading to the refresher where he found Ezra leaning over the sink which was also, conveniently, covered in blood. All it had taken was for Ezra to turn his face toward the creature standing in the door and say “Zeb?” before Zeb was hurtling down the hall in a panic, calling for Kanan to come help him because the kid was dying.

Sabine, who had been up working on a project, was the first to respond to this particular “The human is dying!” call. She took one look at Ezra, standing in his pajamas with blood on his hands and said, “That sucks,” and turned back to her room.

Hera, who was making her way down the hall to check on if Ezra really was dying this time, had the pleasure of seeing Sabine turn back and say, “If you want a tampon to stop up the bleeding, they're in the bottom left drawer.” This worked surprisingly well at stopping Ezras bloody nose, because he was blushing so hard there was no blood left for his nose. Hera turned back to comfort Zeb, telling him she had reacted the exact same way the first time Kanan had woken up with a bloody nose. She saw him come out of his panic in time to realize she had effectively confessed to sleeping with Kanan, but wisely decided not to say anything. Nothing he didn't already know.

The humans were absolutely bizarre to spend time around. They ended up installing a wall in the galley that had live plants in it, not because they needed fresh plants to eat, but because their brain chemicals got thrown off if they weren't around plants for too long.

They had empathy for everything. Hera had once witnessed Ezra cry in a market when they passed a fruit stand with a deformed Meiloorun. When Hera asked why he was crying, he had looked up at her with these huge eyes, sniffed, and said, “I just feel so bad for it! No one will buy it!” They had, of course, bought it. Kanan tried not to get attached to anything, but he apologized for bumping into inanimate objects, and Sabine got visibly sad when they had to throw out a good piece of gear because it was broken or old.

They all three loved swimming. They were awful at it, just barely flopping around on the surface, but any time they were near even relatively safe water, they were in it, having the time of their lives. Kanan had once explained to Hera that humans have an extra fun little bit of evolution called the mammalian dive reflex, which slows their heart rate and lowers their blood pressure when they are in water, making it calming and enjoyable. Hera was skeptical until she watched Ezra calmly floating down a river on his back and wished she had that, instead of feeling nothing but panic anytime she had to float in water.  

They were mimics. They could replicate a stunning array of sounds, from animals to tech. Ezra's favorite way of annoying her was to make the noises her ship made when something went wrong, just to see how much she would panic before she realized it was him. They would sing along to anything, even if it was just instruments, and Hera would never admit it, but she loved Kanan's voice.

They could sleep anywhere. One of her favorite memories was walking around Chopper Base after a particularly exhausting mission and finding the three of them, Kanan in the middle, with one kid leaning on either shoulder, asleep, leaning against a crate. They had looked so peaceful, and yet she was again surprised at them. It was far too cold for her to even consider sleeping, there were fighters landing only a few hundred meters away, people running all over, and they were snoozing with smiles on their faces, just glad to be home.

And humans would pack bond with literally anything. She had thought Kanan was bad until she met Ezra. It was ridiculous. Her father had said that she was improper for developing a fondness for a droid, but the kid formed a relationship with everything that moved. It got them out of a few tight spots, sure, but she would never get used to having to sit still as some enormous predator loomed in their faces. The sight of Ezra staring down a cat the size of the ghost on some jungle planet, the cat's fangs mere inches from his face as it huffed at him, was something she would never forget.

They were wild and hard headed and strong and made her life so much more interesting.

Early on, Kanan’s strange human ability to adapt to seemingly anything had been a momentary point of contention between the two of them, and was still something she struggled with. It took time for her to be okay with the fact that humans and Twi’leks were just built differently. But it frustrated Hera how weak she felt compared to him. It infuriated her the way he could just walk off something that would have killed her. She had always striven to be adaptable and up for anything. She was strong, and she knew it. But she felt her inadequacies sharply next to Kanan. Early in their partnership they had been in the galley repairing themselves from yet another fight, when Hera had turned to see Kanan casually sewing his own skin up with a needle. The way he could just puncture his own skin like that, with nothing more than a wince and a hiss of breath, had made her see red for a moment and she had to excuse herself to the cockpit to take a breath. They had talked about it, and he had helped her to realize that she was, of course, strong. Humans were adapted differently, so it was entirely unfair for her to be comparing them. But they could compare emotionally, and she was one of the strongest people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. The two of them were forged in war, and had been through incredible things. She had fought prejudice and overcome so many obstacles to get to where she was, the best pilot in the resistance, without question. As he had said the last part, she heard him smirk a bit, and looked over at him, bathed in the blue light of hyperspace, to find him with a little crooked grin on his face and his hair falling down around his ears. She had felt her guarded heart open a little bit more at that, and had to turn and gaze back out at the stars before her heart opened completely to this rogue of a man.

Later, pressed against his chest in a supply closet, hiding from some stormtroopers, she would marvel at just how fast humans' hearts beat. She knew they were supposed to beat about two times faster than a twi’lek, but his seemed like it was fit to fly out of his ribcage. She found herself thinking, “Is it supposed to be doing that? Is this why he's such a hot headed idiot?” Later she would discover it did not always beat that incredibly fast, usually just a bit faster than hers. It made him ridiculously warm, and also may have contributed to why he was so quick to anything. Not rushed. Not hasty. Just quick. Quick to anger. Quick to smile. Quick to fight. Quick to laugh. Quick to love.

Maybe that was why it was such a shock when he finally reached his limit. She had gotten used to him pulling through impossible situations. She had forgotten that they had limits, just like her.

And then, years later, a glimmer of hope. Ahsoka and Sabine, travelling the galaxy over, searching for Ezra. While Kanan was gone forever, she still had a chance to get one of her boys back.

And of course, there was always Jacen. Her beautiful little boy, who was soft and sweet and yet surprisingly strong, just like his father. And Hera was comforted to know that wherever this wild galaxy would take him, he had Kanan Jarrus’ blood coursing through his veins to keep him safe.

#kanan jarrus #kanan x hera #caleb dume #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #star wars #i accidentally wrote a fanfic #enjoy #tw #blood #angst #blood tw #rebels spoilers #rebels fanfic #fanfic #kanan x hera fanfic

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Twelve 

Master List

“You’re here doll.” Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked between his face and your hands. Suddenly the words he said to you before cause your anger boiled over. You yanked your hand out of his.

“Yep. Steve wanted me to be here when you woke up. So here I am.” You pressed the button to the Shuri know Bucky was awake, then turned toward the door.

“Yn please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He was trying to get out of bed but was getting tangled in the cords.

“That’s fine.” You turned back to him once you reached the door. Shuri had just come in the room. “Steve said he wished he could be here. He hopes to stop through soon.” Before Bucky could say anything else you were out the door. Walking quickly to the elevator and back to your apartment.

The streets outside were busy as you rushed home. People going about their day unaware of the battle going on in your head. Part of you wanted nothing more than to crawl in that bed with him and just lay there. The other part wants to punch him right in the face. It felt like the last three months hadn’t even happened. Just as you reached your door, the kimoyo beads on your wrist chirped.

“Well that was dramatic.” She didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“Shuri. Please don’t.” You flopped down on the couch.

“You weren’t the one trying to keep a super solider from tearing out every lead and chasing after you.”

“I’m sorry.” He tried to chase after you? Shit.

“You can make it up to me tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Nakia is coming home and we haven’t been to a club in a while.”

“Shuri, it’s been like one week.”

“And that’s too long! We will be at your place about 8. Wear something hot!” She gave you a wink and hung up. Maybe going out was just what you needed. Keep yourself distracted.  

You sent a text off to Steve that Bucky was awake and everything went smoothly. You then switched your phone off and set it at your desk. Spending the rest of the day puttering around your apartment cleaning and reorganizing things.

Finally, it was time to get ready for the club. You choose a deep red satin dress. It was strapless and came to rest just above your knees. It also had a slit up the right side to your hip. This dress was probably the most daring one you had bought. One that Natasha was proud of when you sent her a picture of you in it for the first time. You kept your makeup light. Doing your brows, mascara and a clear gloss. Your favorite necklace to wear with it was a black snake choker. Nat said it made you look sexy and scary at the same time. That is exactly what you wanted to feel tonight. Your hair was in a loose bun at the nape of your neck and you let pieces fall around your face. You were getting your shoes from the hall closest when there was a knock at your door.

“Come on in!” You shouted at the door from the hall.

“Yn?” You froze. What the hell was Bucky doing here? You shut the hall closest and walked to the living room.

“What are you doing here Bucky?” You didn’t even look at him as you walked through the room to the kitchen. Tossing your shoes down, you grabbed one of the liquor bottle from the counter.

“I was told to pick you up.” You looked up at him. He was dressed all in black. His dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease his body underneath it. His left sleeve was tucked in on itself.

“What do you mean pick me up?” You forced yourself to keep your eye on his but you noticed his wondering.

“Shuri invited me out with you guys.” His eyes were still everywhere but where they should be.

“Wonderful.” You poured yourself a shot and then another. All the while Bucky was just staring at you and you let him. Thanking yourself for choosing the outfit you did. Your kimoyo beads chirped.

“Shuri mind telling me why Bucky is in my apartment.” She gave you a big smile.

“I thought it would be good for him. Now get over here!” She hung up.

“Well let’s go then.” Bucky held his arm out for you to take but you just brushed past him out the door.

“Well ok then.” You heard him mumble behind you. You were not about to let some 100-year-old super solider dampen your night.

  One of the perks of being friends with the princess is that you never had to wait in the lines at clubs. The music greeted you as you walked through the door. Bucky’s hand came to rest on your lower back protectively. You groaned to yourself as you scanned the room quickly. Finding Shuri and Nakia at the bar. You danced your way to them trying to stay just far enough from Bucky so he couldn’t touch you. Once at the bar you chose to wedge yourself between Shuri and a man, not allowing any room for Bucky who reluctantly took a place one the other side of Nakia.

“Yn!” She shouted and came around Shuri to give you a big hug. “You look sexy as always girl!”

“You look great to Nakia. How was the mission?” The bar tender had made her way over to you. You ordered a round of shots for the group.

“You know no work talk on girls’ night!”

“Well it’s not really girls’ night is it?” You raised your eye brows and looked at Shuri.

“You’re right.” Nakia turned to also look at Shuri.

“Oh come on!” She raised her hands and took the shot placed in front of her. The two of you followed.

After a few more drinks the three of you made your way to the dance floor. Bucky thankfully stayed at the bar but you could feel his eyes on you all night.  

“He really does stare a lot.” Nakia whispered to you under the loud music.

“You have no idea.”

“It probably doesn’t help you wore THAT outfit.” She gestured at your dress.

“Well I had no idea until he just showed up at my house.” Just then a man grabbed your waist and spun you to him.

“Hello.” He gave you a flirty smirk.

“Hello.” You returned it and danced against him. You ignored Nakia’s protest that you were dancing with her. Instead you just focused on his hands. They found their way across your body in an intoxicating way. The liquor that flowed though you gave you the courage to dance even closer.

“You look stunning in that dress.” He whispered in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps racing down your body.

“Thank-” A strong hand on your upper arm cut you off. You looked at your arm only to be jerked away from the man you had been dancing with.

“What the hell Bucky.” You tried your best to shake his grip.

“It’s time to go.” He spoke low and was staring now at the man. He opened his mouth to say something but just shook his head and walked away.

“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere.” You tried and failed again to break free. This time though you lost your balance a bit thanks to the alcohol. Bucky just held on tighter. You looked around for Shuri and Nakia, they were both standing at the door. The lights in the club had started to filter on.

“I said it’s time to go.” He nearly growled it out between his clenched teeth. He started to pull you toward the door.

“Let me go you fucking ass.” You struggled the whole way to the door. Trying everything short of starting a full fight with him. He didn’t let you go until everyone was outside.

“What the hell was that?!” Bucky shouted at you.

“I could ask you the same fucking this ass hole!” You shouted back. “I was dancing and having fun.” You bent down and started taking off your shoes to make it easier to walk home. “You’re the one that got all possessive.”

“Is that what you call what you were doing?” Bucky was still seething with anger but help to keep you steady while you worked at your shoes. “And I was not being possessive.”

“Dancing isn’t like it was in the 40s buck. Get over it.” You walked back over to the girls. “Thanks for a great night ladies see you.”

“Yn are you ok?”

“I’ll be fine Shuri. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As much as you wanted to be mad at her you couldn’t. You knew she meant well inviting Bucky out. You gave her and Nakia a hug then headed off to your apartment. Bucky was following close behind you.

“Bucky what are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you get home safe.” You stopped but didn’t turn around. You hung your head and sighed.

“Whatever.” You started walking again. “But that’s kind of possessive.”

“It is not. Now come on.” He caught up to you pace and placed his hand back on your lower back.

A few minutes later you both stood at the door to your apartment. Bucky insisted on walking you all the way to your door not just the door of the building.

“Home safe.” You said as you turned you key and the door opened. Bucky gently grabbed your arm and turned you to face him. You gave a slight wince as he grabbed the same spot he had a death grip on not too long ago. When he saw that he dropped his hand and head.

“I’m sorry about that Yn. I’m sorry about a lot.”

“I’ll forget it if you spar with me. I owe you a few punches.”

“Deal.” He lifted his head and smiled at you. It was genuine. It showed in his eyes too. They were brighter than you had ever seen before. Shit. That was the alcohol.

“Right. Good night Bucky.”

“Good night doll.”

Before you could think his hand was on your face and he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was simple but it was probably the most Intimate moment you had with a man in almost a year. It damn near made you knees buckle. If Bucky noticed he didn’t let on, just give you another smile and watched as you went into your apartment.

 Once in your apartment, you made your way back to the bedroom. Struggling with the zipper on you dress as you went. Finally getting it of you changed into you pj’s and head to your desk. Even though you were fairly drunk you had a nightly routine of checking all your sources for Steve. Before sitting down you grabbed a glass of water and took some meds for the headache you knew would be coming in soon. You mind wasn’t quite focused on the screen in front of you. Your computer was running a facial recognition program. Instead you were thinking about what happened at the club.

Part of you knew exactly why you did what you did. You made Bucky jealous. But why did you want to make him jealous? Sure you liked to dance with men at the club but you never got that bold with how you danced. Mindlessly you rub the spot on your arm where Bucky grabbed you. It was still tender. For sure there would be bruises there by morning. In the back of your mind that excited you a bit. Bucky marked you.

What the FUCK Yn. You propped you elbows up on your desk and rested your head in your hands. Your computer chimed letting you know that the program was done running. Trying to pull your mind from Bucky, you clicked though any possible hits. There was only one that was even close. It was of Wanda. She was spotted in Finland. You decided to check you phone. Only to realize that you had turned it off earlier in the day. Once it was on, there was a title wave of notifications. A few calls from Steve, even more text messages, even some calls from Nat and Sam. You didn’t bother to read all the messages and called Steve back.

“Yn, where the hell have you been?”

“Well hi to you too Steve.”

“Sorry. We have just been trying to reach you all day. I was getting worried.”

“I mean same Steve. But I’m ok. Just had my phone off and got busy. Shuri took us out to the club.”

“Ok. Well how is Bucky doing? Did he do ok coming out of cryo?”

“Bucky is fine. Shuri drug him out to the club with us. So that was fun.” You tried to make your tone light. You really didn’t want to tell Steve everything that happened tonight.

“Bucky went to a club?” You could hear Sam say something and Steve laughed.

“Yea. It was interesting to say the least. But he came out of cryo just fine.”

“Good. Any other updates?”

“Not really. I haven’t really talked to Shuri about what’s next. All I know is that whenever he is ready they will get the rest of that old metal arm removed. Shuri has a whole plan for a new arm if he wants it.”

“That’s awesome. I’m glad.”

“Yea.” You couldn’t help but let you voice slip.

“What else Yn?” Steve always knew when something was wrong.

“Uh, I got a new tac suit ready to go. It’s got all kinds of goodies. So whenever you need me I am more than ready.”

“Sweetheart, I know you want to be out here, but please just stay there.”

“Right.” Both of you paused in conversation.

“Oh, also, you might want to let Wanda know to be a little more careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I run a facial recognition program every now and then. She popped up tonight. It may not be her but it was a pretty high match.”

“Where was it?” He sounded concerned.

“Central Finland. Is that where you guys are at now?”

“Yea it is. I’ll let her know. Thanks Yn.”

“Anytime Steve. Also if you need anything tech wise you can still use me. I’ve been helping Nakia.”

“I know. We are just kind of laying low right now.” You heard more voices over the phone. “I got to go Yn.”

“Alright. Tell everyone I said hi and that I miss them.”

“I will sweetheart. Stay out of trouble.”

“Always.”

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #steve x reader friendship #enemies to lovers #marvel fanfiction #slow burn #steve rogers #captain america #winter solider #marvel #reader insert #captain america winter solider #captain america civil war #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

[johnkrrasinski]

ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 1: The Archer & The Prey 

full masterlist // series masterlist

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 4,517

Warnings: sexual themes, kidnapping, stalking. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: this is the dark!steve rogers series that i have promised. this one is going to be much darker than the last one shot fic i posted, so please leave, if you are under 18+. please leave a like and comment. enjoy! 

It had been a long time since you last went on a vacation. You had been taking care of your then sick mother, every day and barely got enough time for yourself between working your humdrum job as an accountant at Stark's Industries and rushing to the hospital every night to your mother to keep her company.

However, it's not your concern anymore now. You had just gone home from attending her funeral. It was bleak and wearisome. You had to deal with your family and friends who put on these fake, mournful faces and pretended that they were heartbroken when they never gave a shit when she was still alive and healthy. They barely took their time to visit her during her hospitalization.

Your mother was your best friend, the only person in your life who truly cared for you and took care of you during your childhood and teenager years, even after you were an adult, your mother still saw you as this little girl who needed some tending after she scrapped her knees.

You were a shy, delicate, and reticent person who kept to herself and didn't keep a lot of companion in your life. You had some classmates from high school and college that you still kept in touch with, you also had some colleagues that you would text with once in a while regarding professional matters.

However, you wouldn't consider them as friends, it wasn't about trust issues or anything severe, it was simply just who you are. You were an introvert who felt much more at ease when you are not surrounded by anyone. But your mother was the only exception, growing up as the only child of a single mother, it wasn't easy to simply let your guard down to anyone. You had learned that when you are alone, you felt less anxious and you'd like to keep it that way. Working at the Stark Industries rewarded you well but it was stressful enough as it is, you wouldn't want to add that pile of stress.

Now that your mother is gone, you've never felt more alone in your life. You walked into your apartment with hands buried in the pocket of your black coat, with your head down, you tried to hold yourself steady as you fumble for your key. You unlocked the door and you stepped into your home. You took a moment to take a deep breath and took a look at your surrounding. You felt helpless. So you took off your coat, went into a shower, and broke down into tears.

You dried yourself off later that night and put on your favorite oversized sweater, you call it your "pity sweater", you've had it in your closet since you were fifteen and every time you hit rock bottom, like the time when you first received the news that your mom was terribly ill and she only had a few more months to live, you decide that to drown yourself in your own self-pity party and of course you'd wear the right outfit to celebrate it.

You laid on your bed later that night, under the opacity of your room, trying to numb the pain by ingesting some sleeping pills, but it didn't help, your eyes are still wide open and you can still hear the resonance of your muffled sobs. Slowly but surely, the seconds turned into minutes, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, drifting away into the land of dreams.

You are running in the middle of a dark forest, being chased by the wolves with their cuspidate teeth glistening in the murk threatening to devour you. They were running faster than the wind, you were having trouble of trying to outrun them, you felt your energy started to dwindle down, your feet got weaker and cold sweats started to break out of your skin. You were so fixated on running that you didn't realize one of the wolfpacks had caught onto your dress, it was torn away from you and you tripped and your back hit the ground. The last thing you saw was a blue-eyed wolf, gritting its fangs, staring deep into your eyes, with its face closer and closer to yours then everything went black.

The next day, you went back to your work, as usual, your boss, Tony Stark had been generous enough to offer you to take a day off, you refused it at first because if you were left alone one more second doing nothing productive, your mind would start to wander to your mother and you would end up having another breakdown on your kitchen floor. So you had to distract yourself, get your gloomy mind off the tragedy that had befallen on you. Your only escape was work.

It's not like you would hit the bar and order some drinks, it wasn't your thing. It would trigger your anxiety the minute you step foot on the door. To be at peace, all it needed was the companion of your romance novels and some hot chocolate. The concept of dressing up and going home shit faced is a foreign idea to you. It would absolutely be madness if you risked your own comfort zone just to end up in a stranger's car and not remembering a single event that happened last night. Your mother always warned you about being reckless and talking to strange men.

She would always say; "you have to be careful, y/n, there are men who are steadily seeking their next prey. They would lure you into their charm and capitalize on you in their bed. And the next thing you know, you are 4 weeks pregnant and you are going to have to carry that tiny life inside you and raise it on your own."

That's how you were born into this world, actually. You never knew who your father was, and nor did your mother. She was only 23 when she decided to live her life and savor her youth. She was a brilliant young woman who was supposed to have a long, bright future ahead of her. She had graduated from college with a psychology degree and one night, she decided to break out of her shell and accepted her roommate's invitation to go to a party. Little did she know, that party was going to turn her life upside down, forever.

She still walked away with a degree, but there wasn't an ounce of bright future left for her. She had this frail life in her belly depending on her to keep it alive. She had gone to her parents and asked for their help, but they abandoned her. They were filled with rage when your mother told them the jaw-dropping news. They were disappointed in her for being so stupid and negligent. They had high expectations for her. So when your mother begged for their forgiveness, they told her to leave their home and never show her face ever again instead.

Hence, you never knew your grandparents too well either, your mother had shown you some pictures of them, the ones that she still had despite never talking to them again, but she spoke wonderfully about how they raised her right despite their strictness and their unwavering push on her to do better. Your mother was anything but. She took care of you with gentleness and she decided that she didn't want you to live in fear of your own mother.

You loved her more than anything in life. Your mother was your whole world, the one who cured all the rainy days and gave you a secure home when the hurricane in your life was too mighty. Your world was crushed, burned, and taken away when she died. You had to be your own person now.

So you decided to take on Tony's offer of letting a week off. He told you that you need to take your time to mourn and that he didn't need you to be operating his finance when your head was clearly not in the right place. You went home early that day and make yourself some lunch.

You sat on your couch with a bowl filled with cereal in your hands, watching the rerun of Friends. It was the episode where they were going on a ski trip but Phoebe's car broke down. You loved this series and each episode always gave you a good laugh even when you don't feel like it.

It struck an idea in you, what if... You decided to go on a vacation instead of limping around in your apartment, wallowing in self-pity? Maybe it's time for you to get out of your comfort zone and do what might be best for you. It's going to be new and different and scary for sure, but you might never know if you never try. This might help you find yourself and your own inner peace. Your mom would want that for you. She used to always talk about wanting to go camping, especially when she was sick.

She said, "you know when all of this is over and I'm finally free out of this condition, I wanna go camping in the middle of the woods."

You looked up from the book you were reading, with a chuckle you amused her. "Camping, mom? Really? Never knew you were a nature person."

"Oh, I am sweetheart, I used to go hiking and climbing and skiing when I was young. I never really had that chance anymore now that I am older." She lied, she would never say it was because she had to have you that she couldn't go on all these adventures anymore. "The only problem now is that I have to endure this pain a little longer then we can explore the world as long as we want, dear." She chuckled, but her cough interrupted it.

You put down your book on your thighs and immediately reached out her hand.

"Mom, you are gonna get better, I promise. You have to."

You decided to google some camping spots that might intrigue you, you weren't looking for anything opulent or temerarious, just enough to clear your mind off the gloom and to invigorate the spirit in you to go back to work. Maybe, you'd try to meditate in the middle of the woods, yeah, you've always wondered about that, would it really be effective? This might be the time to discover the answer. You can picture it, the fresh air encompassing you, the sound of the birds chirping as if they were welcoming you, and there wouldn't be a single soul that could intrude your solitude.

After doing some research, you decided that you have found the perfect spot. A green-covered land somewhere down South, you did a little deeper digging into its whereabouts, and you took a screenshot of it and bookmarked the page.

That night, you started to feel like the match inside you was lit. After days of being engulfed in grief, you started to feel hope, just a sheer of it. But it was enough to make you feel like you weren't so lost and hopeless. You decided to have an early night after you finished watching Friends and get yourself some rest. You are going to wake up early to pack and prepare yourself to leave this godforsaken town for a few days. You were excited to see what tomorrow holds.

The next morning, you took a shower and got yourself ready. You had packed just enough to last a few days in the woods. You brought your camping tent with you, the one your mother had bought but never actually got to use it. You put your travel bag in the trunk of your car and you sat on the driver's seat to heat up the engine.

You put on some relaxing Jazz music to console your ears and to prevent your thoughts from drifting to your mother. You were going to focus on the roads and what was waiting ahead of you. The soft hum of the engine soothed you. You were savoring the crisp air of Autumn. Fall was your favorite season, the way everything seems chill and slow, it wasn't loud and harsh like summer, but it does feel like a faint new beginning in a way, like the transition of the 5 am sky, from dark hue midnight sky to a luminous royal blue.

You had the windows rolled down as the wind wafted your skin. You were dressed in your cotton knit cream sweater and a knee-length denim shorts. You had taken a quick stop at the nearest Starbucks outlet to get a cup of hot chocolate. You weren't exactly a coffee type of person. You didn't exactly get what makes people so addicted to it. You didn't like the still remaining taste despite pouring three packets of sugar on it. You loved the hot chocolate because sweetness always enlightened your mood. Your mother used to make you a glass of hot chocolate when you were groggy or when you were anxious. You guess it sticks with you no matter how old you are.

A few hours down the road, the temperature started to rise, you can feel the sticky sweat clinging on your skin cloaked under the thickness of your sweater. You stopped by the gas station to fill in your tank, you were back on the road after you bought some snacks. Not only your car that needed to be loaded, but your stomach also did.

You finally arrived at your destination. You had to drive down some uneven roads that bounced all your items inside and you were feeling a bit nauseated after hours of sitting on the driver's seat and the coarse path. But when you finally reached the spot that you found on the internet, it was worth it. You forgot all the hindrances that you had to endure to get yourself here. The pictures that you saved on your phone didn't do justice to the real scenery.

The land was surrounded by nothing but pine green circling around you. The trees were tall, venerable, and benignant. You could hear the sound of the waterfall coursing through the river and it was a picturesque sight. You took a deep breath to inhale the fresh air. For a second, you forgot what you were here in the first place, you relished the stunning mother nature before you.

But then a picture of your mother, smiling emerged into view. You remembered the look on her face when she talked about all the travel plans she had when she recovers. She never had that chance, and it tore you to pieces, again. The thing about losing someone you love the most is that no matter how many good things you have throwing themselves on your way, the pain doesn't just vanish into thin air. It leaves and comes back every once in a while. It gives you space to breathe and to collect yourself and then when it knows you've walked long enough in the light, it comes back to haunt you, reminding you that it never really left.

But you tried to focus on the present, you can't make your mother come back or travel back in time to keep her alive, so you were going to cherish this moment for her. You were going to feast on this fleeting tranquility that you have.

You stood there until you felt like you were jaded for being on your feet for too long. You went back to your car to take your tent and try to set it up. You had to look that up on the internet too, to get it standing perfectly. After what feels like your thousandth attempts, you were glad that it finally relented and let you use it as a makeshift home.

By the time you were done, it was already afternoon. You decided that you were going to take a look around the woods, you weren't going to just stay in one spot, you still had a few hours until it goes dark and of course you weren't going to be stupid enough to wander around the forest that you had never been to after dusk.

You decided you were going to just walk in nearby areas. You were terrified of getting too far, you might end up lost and couldn't find your way back. You only brought your cellphone that was practically useless because you couldn't find any signal there, but you still needed it to take pictures. You also decided to take a bottle of water with you. Quenching your thirst is essential in a journey through the woods.

You kept on walking while stopping once in a while to capture what you find stunning. You were so lost in looking for your next shot to snap, you didn't see the edged branch that was tapered pointedly until your skin grazed against it, causing a deep, painful cut on your left thigh. It was so piked that it left a horizontal shred on your knee-high shorts too.

You dropped your phone to the soil and yielded a high pitched squeal. It reminded you of the traumatic incident in kindergarten, where you were playing chase and run with a classmate, and you stumbled on a hard rock that left a permanent scar on your right knee.

You fell on the ground because you couldn't withhold the agony any longer. You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a piece of your torn jeans, even though it required some struggle. You did not want to let it get infected. You bandaged the crimson wound and you sat there for a few minutes to calm yourself down. You held yourself back on your hands pressed to the soil, you didn't care that it was going to get dirty, you just needed to find a comfortable position until you decide that you were strong enough to return to your tent.

Little did you know, your shriek had invited an unwanted presence. No, no, not the spooky kind. More like a starving wolf that you saw in your dreams a couple of nights ago, with spiked tusks ready to hunt its prey.

So much for thinking that this would be the best vacation of your life...

Steve Rogers had been living in this enormous cabin in the woods all his life. He was raised by his parents whom his grandparents trusted to take care of the cabin. When his grandfather died, he left it to his parents as his inheritance. His father used to teach him hunting and his mother used to teach him how to cook. They taught him a lot of things to survive living in the woods. It wasn't an easy life, they had to get things done all by themselves.

They had to work hard to get their basic needs. They had to habituate themselves in being isolated. It wasn't a difficult thing for Steve because he was always a lone wolf who was vigilant towards his privacy, but a part of he couldn't help but wish that he had someone to take care of. Someone he could keep to himself. Someone who he could call his and his only. Someone who he could... possess. He didn't feel lonely, no, he loved being alone. He loved his autonomy. But he was only a man after all and man has needs. When he was feeling needy and jerking himself off wasn't just doing it anymore for him, he would often go to the city, an hour drive was all it took to get to the nearest brothel house.

Whenever he walked into the door of that ranch, his steps were heard loud and clear and his presence was witnessed effortlessly. It wasn't difficult for a man like him to spend hours in the bordello, his stamina was ceaseless and, let's just say that he was an... ingenious man. He understood a woman's body and what it desires. He wasn't afraid to use his skill and his expertise to fulfill his appetite and his subject. Oh, and how he could take his time to satisfy each one of these ladies.

But whenever he was finished, he would return home with this feeling of void, yes his physical thirst was quenched and his cock wasn't painfully hard anymore that it hurt, at least he got to release the tension that would've left him high and dry if he hadn't fucked some pussy, but there was still something missing. He still hadn't found that one thing he could domineer within the privacy of the woods. The brothel provided private rooms for their customers for sure, but nothing was more pleasant to him than being in his own private quarters, and the thought that these women he had a good time with weren't exactly his, bored him.

He was fatigued by the fact that they have slept with other people too. It's not like he had some sort of attachment to any of them, but that just reminded him of something he still couldn't find. He needed to make a quick move. He was a determined man, once he set his mind on something, he will do whatever it takes to obtain it. And once he found that one girl that he knew would be his favorite possession, he would take her without a second thought and he would make her his.

He drove his beatdown truck back into the woods, the deserted road had become too familiar to him to turn on the beam headlights. He cleaned himself off under the boiling hot water, wipe away the droplets of water that were clinging to his slightly tanned skin, after years of hunting in the middle of the day where the sun was scorching hot and he never bothered of covering every inch of himself up, nobody was going to see him after all.

Later that night, he dropped himself on to the mattress without being bothered to put on any coverups. He always slept nude. It started drizzling outside when he decided that he was going to call it a night. He was going to go hunting tomorrow, so he needed to gather all his energy to make sure he wouldn't miss his target on the day. So he shut his eyes away and drifted into unconsciousness.

The next morning, he woke up precisely at 7.30 am and gathered all his hunting tools. He had his rifle and his bullets with him. Although he didn't really need much because he had been doing this his whole life, he almost never missed a shot. He was patient enough to observe his target, and he calculated his next move meticulously. He put the rifle near his nose then he waited until he knew his shot would be hit exactly between the target's eyes. Then bam! Within a matter of seconds, it ceased to breathe. Then he put the lifeless creature into his sack.

The day was still young and he decided to repose and chugged down half of the water container. When he felt energized enough, he decided to hike a little farther into the outer parts of the woods. He packed up his rifle and his water container along with his deceased prey.

That's when he heard it. An earsplitting squeal. His senses were alert enough to measure the direction of where it came from. His pace was accelerated towards it. He didn't halt until he saw a tiny, cotton-knit wrapped figure, reclining on the muddy ground, bandaging what seemed to be her wounded thigh with a piece of ripped jeans.

He stood there behind a giant tree, leaning on his arm against it, and observed the sight before him. A young, beautiful girl who didn't look any older than 25, she looked in distress. Her hands were dirty of mud. She seemed unaware of her environs.

She kept mewling in pain, he didn't know how she got the wound, although he could put it in his head that with the phone that was lying next to her, the screen still on display, and next to her head was a very twinged branch, he could put the math together and theorized that she was too starstruck by the sceneries in this woods, just like any other local tourist would, that she didn't notice the poked out, nature-made shank.

But he was entranced by the sight before him. She was really pretty, the kind of beauty that makes you want to keep your eyes on nothing else but her. Like the constellation had aligned, burst into flames, landed on the Earth, and gave birth to a woman. It was divine and striking, in the most heartwarming way.

He wasn't standing too far away but it was enough to not alarm her. The benefit was that he could keep ogling as long as he wanted. About twenty minutes had passed and she finally decided to get on her feet. She picked up her phone and pat her hands together to brush off the remnants of the dirt that were still clinging to her palms. Her sweater was slightly tarnished but she didn't seem to bother stroking it off. She walked to the other direction. She was limping but she held herself straight.

She finally halted at the place where there was a tent, illuminated from the inside, and there was a car. He learned immediately that, that's where she was staying. The usual tourist spot. He didn't see anyone else with her. She seemed to be camping alone.

That was odd, usually, couples, a group of high school kids, or families camp together. He was always irked by those intruders who occupied the land. They luxuriated from nature, but how did they pay her in return? By littering the surface and leaving junk all over the site. They didn't even bother gathering them in one place so that it would be easier for the Foresters to pick them up.

Poor girl, he thought. She must be really lonely to go out here alone. People don't choose these woods to have 'alone' time. They usually choose the libraries or the Bahamas, if they want to go a little extravagant. This girl mustn't know a lot about camping too, from the way she set up her tent, it looks slightly rumpled, it could still keep her safe though, well not too safe, now that he's here. But at least she wouldn't be soaked if it rains.

Her car was parked right behind the tent, it was a simple pearl white Chevy Spark. She seemed to travel light. He couldn't see much through the tinted windows, but he had seen giant truck cars and jeeps that were overweight with travel bags more than necessary. He memorized all the details of the setting and made a fixed resolution on his mind.

He is doing some hunting tonight...

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