#and im always like. so happy when i see it!! like i love to see stuff of disabled queer ppl it makes be. so happy
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First of all thank you for the Rempe content
Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:
You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game
kisses
matt rempe x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses
masterlist
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“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.
“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.
“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.
“what?” he shrugs.
“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.
“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.
“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.
“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.
“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.
“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.
“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.
“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.
“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.
“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.
“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs
“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”
“touché”
-
“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.
“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.
“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.
“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.
“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.
“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.
“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.
“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.
“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.
“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.
“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.
“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.
“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.
-
#matt rempe fluff#matt rempe x reader#matt rempe imagine#ny rangers#nhl#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#turcs’ talk
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casual , part 7
“ you said ‘we’re not together’ ”
series m. list
previous chapter
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
liked by vivianliu, dylanduke25, and 100,299 others
yourusername i’m on that hot girl shit
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username91 the mirror pics 🤭🤭
username40 gimme sum of the hot girl shit babe 🙏
lhughes_06 yes queen be confident!! don’t let my douchebag of a best friend bring down your happiness
→ yourusername who are you and what have you done to my brother
→ mackie.samo limp wrist culture
→ markestapa 🍊🍓🍎🫐🍐🥭🥝🍏🍋
→ dylanduke25 fruit bowl alert
→ rutgermcgroarty 😟
→ lhughes_06 STOP THIS I BEG OF YOU
_quinnhughes i have a few friends who want to get to know you a bit better
→ yourusername wait a second..
→ _quinnhughes yes i know i never let you talk to guys 😑 BUT THIS IS AN EXCEPTION.
→ yourusername is it what i think it is 😱
→ jackhughes WAIT WHAT WE DIDNT AGREE TO THIS
→ lhughes_06 THIS WAS NOT UNANIMOUSLY DECIDED
→ _quinnhughes THIS IS A ONE TIME THING ONLY yourusername
rutgermcgroarty yay
→ yourusername ☺️
→ rutgermcgroarty 😁
→ yourusername 🥰
→ rutgermcgroarty 🤗
→ lhughes_06 what the hell is this
→ luca.fantilli goddammit they’re communicating in emojis again
_alexturcotte AYEEEE NICE
trevorzegras SHES BACK??
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→ jackhughes she’s not happy she called me last night bawling her eyes out
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username48 who’s gonna tell her she looks absolutely GORGEOUS
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luca.fantilli i think someone might feel a bit regretful
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→ yourusername i won’t know unless he tells me himself
→ luca.fantilli IM TRYING TO HELP YOU
vivianliu oh my god
vivianliu mother
vivianliu you’re so hot
liked by yourusername
vivianliu who needs your little boy toy when you have MEEEE
→ yourusername ‼️‼️
→ lhughes_06 i’d rather you date her instead of him
→ jackhughes me too
markestapa he has so much pride i apologize
→ yourusername 🤷♀️
→ yourusername you know how i am with my toxic men
→ _quinnhughes yeah you’re obsessed yourusername
→ trevorzegras LMAOOO
→ mackie.samo goddamn 😭
→ vivianliu stop don’t do her like that
→ _alexturcotte violation.
→ dylanduke25 💀💀
colecaufield hello i see those are the headphones i generously gifted you out of the kindness of my heart
→ yourusername i dont like where ur going with this.
→ colecaufield I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING
→ yourusername U SOUND LIKE UR GONNA SAY SOMETHING
→ jackhughes he wants you to go watch him play when they play the wings on thursday
→ colecaufield JACK.
→ yourusername AWWW OF COURSE I WILL (can you get me good tickets 🤨)
→ colecaufield i already got you behind the bench don’t worry
username14 i’m afraid you ABSOLUTELY ATE 💕
username55 mom and dad are fighting again
→ username71 mom and dad??? they didnt even hard launch babe 😭😭
edwards.73 nice
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edwards.73
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edwards.73 spent time with the #1 bro tn
tagged: markestapa
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dylanduke25 i always knew you had favoritism
→ edwards.73 it’s true mark’s my favorite
→ dylanduke25 YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DENY IT
→ edwards.73 my mom said never lie
→ markestapa i love you too babe 🥰🥰 edwards.73
→ edwards.73 😘
username36 this is so frat boy
adamfantilli this is completely unfair
→ edwards.73 you berated me last night on ft
→ adamfantilli BRO SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND BY ASSOCIATION
username16 i’m waiting for you and rosie to make up
username5 ethan’s cheating with mark 😱
mackie.samo let’s address the allegations
→ edwards.73 hell no
→ dylanduke25 what allegations?? 😟
lhughes_06 why can’t you just stop beating around the bush for once
jackhughes i hope you know she cries herself to sleep every night
→ yourusername stop exaggerating it was one time 😒
username17 listen to the hughes ethan please 🙏
username3 i’m so confused what’s going on
vivianliu you should’ve spent tonight with her
→ edwards.73 well i didn’t so 🤷♂️
→ vivianliu oh my god you drive me insane just make up and fuck already
→ markestapa what’s with the change of heart vivian 🤨🤨
→ vivianliu i give up
colecaufield 👍
→ edwards.73 🙏
username45 ayeee that’s what we like to see
username90 whyd you post a mirror pic too
→ username22 can he not post a mirror selfie?? 😭
_alexturcotte just makeup and makeout
→ trevorzegras whaaat 🤯
→ edwards.73 thought you were so against me what happened
→ _alexturcotte we’re so tired of you two
luca.fantilli am i #2 at least 🥹🥹🥹
→ edwards.73 yes bro ur #2 🙄
→ adamfantilli #2 literally means shit
→ rutgermcgroarty awww luca you’re shit 🥰
→ luca.fantilli hahaha ur so funny
yourusername stop ignoring me please
username37 ethan and mark best duo ⁉️⁉️
username74 let’s talk about the fact that that’s a whole ass mural in a house???
→ username59 frat house go crazy
_quinnhughes stop ignoring her ethan
→ edwards.73 i’m not
trevorzegras should’ve invited me fr
→ edwards.73 buddy you’re on the other side of the country
→ trevorzegras PLEASEEEE 🥺🥺🥺🥺
→ edwards.73 ew god no
username16 this is so old chase atlantic coded
→ username44 LIKE THE NOSTALGIA EP??
→ username60 YEAAA
rutgermcgroarty PLEASE she’s sobbing uncontrollably and i know it’s killing you too
→ edwards.73 mmmm
→ rutgermcgroarty i see you on life360 outside her apartment dont even try to act all mysterious and shit
→ edwards.73 STOP STALKING ME??
→ rutgermcgroarty if i don’t see you still at her apartment when i wake up in the morning i’ll make sure you never wake up again
→ adamfantilli calm down rut 😭
→ colecaufield i see you’re a bit protective aren’t you rutgermcgroarty
→ mackie.samo why are we threatening each other
→ lhughes_06 okay why are his words effective but mine aren’t 😔😔
→ markestapa what the hell is going on
→ dylanduke25 FIGHT??
→ jackhughes more like a murder dylanduke25
→ vivianliu i stand by rut ‼️
username20 please just have makeup sex already i want the old posts back
→ username2 yeah i think they’re doing that 💀
notes )
soooo yes they’re a little toxic but i love my toxic men 🥴
tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat
#ethan edwards#ethan edwards fanfic#ethan edwards fic#ethan edwards x reader#ethan edwards x y/n#quinn hughes#jack hughes#trevor zegras#alex turcotte#cole caufield#dylan duke#luke hughes#mackie samoskevich#mark estapa#adam fantilli#rutger mcgroarty#luca fantilli
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Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
♡
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece.
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that.
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone.
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest.
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat.
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies.
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess.
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
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dance until we're bones
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader
summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.
a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier
wc: 17.1k
warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one
Hotch can barely stay awake.
He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point.
It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel.
He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there.
Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always.
Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.”
“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?”
“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”
“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.”
Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”
“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”
“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.”
“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says.
Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”
“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes.
“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says.
“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.”
“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”
“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs.
JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.”
Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.”
-
The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file.
The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene.
It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house.
They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt.
It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control.
All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.
Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics.
They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it.
They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.
Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.
Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything.
First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect.
“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.”
“What has he been charged for?”
“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail four years ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”
“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”
“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”
Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”
“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs.
They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind.
The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive.
“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.”
“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh.
Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising.
You.
Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock.
You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford.
“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.
He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.”
Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?”
Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”
“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?”
Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.
“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says.
You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”
You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…”
You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house.
It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all.
Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub.
“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.”
“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?”
He nods. “I had a change of heart.”
You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.”
Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”
You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.”
Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Charles area.”
“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him.
“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”
“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”
“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”
And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things:
Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be.
Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school.
“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.
“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts.
“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”
“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says.
You glower at him, but you stay silent.
“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.”
“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”
“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”
He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.”
“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?”
You nod. “He lives with me.”
He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.
“Why is that?” Hotch asks.
You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too.
“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”
“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going.
“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.”
“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.”
“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?”
Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you.
“Really?”
He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him.
He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her.
And he didn’t even know when she died.
You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad.
“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went five years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says.
You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb.
“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.
“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.”
Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.”
His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even.
“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.”
Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.”
“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.
“No.”
“Do you want them to?”
“...No.”
You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.”
You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”
“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”
You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.”
Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.”
“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says.
You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.”
Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.”
She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door.
Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again.
“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up.
“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?”
“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.”
“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.
“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”
Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”
“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”
Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.
“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”
Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”
“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”
“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.”
Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case—
He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.
You’ve changed a lot. So has he.
And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him.
That’s the only thing that should be on his mind.
-
“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.”
“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”
“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”
“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!”
Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.”
“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts.
They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”
“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”
You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief.
“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”
You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe.
“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused.
“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”
“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss.
“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”
Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”
“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”
“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”
“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”
“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”
“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”
He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.”
“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.”
“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses.
You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once.
“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”
“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”
“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck.
“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”
“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”
You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.
“You’ve got that right.”
He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on.
“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”
“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”
“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity.
“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”
Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs.
Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world.
“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”
“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.
“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”
“Looks like it.”
You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air.
(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)
-
You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger.
Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it.
You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.
They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing.
All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people.
And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong.
You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you.
Because god— what are the odds?
What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother?
It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years.
It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time.
If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant.
Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”
“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you.
“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.”
“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties.
You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.
“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?”
“Not one for small talk,” you remark.
“I never have been.”
“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.”
You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now.
You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face.
“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”
“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.”
“Rent or own?”
“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”
“What inspired the move?”
“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.”
“And home is?”
“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.”
“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says.
“Sources can lie.”
Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.”
Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.”
He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up.
You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had.
You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened.
“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”
“None of those sound like questions,” you say.
“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly.
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“You don’t know,” he repeats.
“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I don’t ask questions.”
“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it.”
“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.”
Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?”
“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.”
“You didn’t tell him—”
“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?”
He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse.
“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.”
“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”
“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.”
“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?”
“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.”
“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply.
Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly.
“And you’re wrong, by the way.”
“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken.
“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.”
And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you.
“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.”
“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.”
“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”
“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.”
“...I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least.
“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.”
Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.”
You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.”
“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.”
You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron.
“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“You know th—”
Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.”
The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.”
He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file.
“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”
You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking.
“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.”
“The profile—”
“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.”
“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”
“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly.
He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this.
For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right.
You have to be right.
The room feels even colder.
Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do.
You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him.
-
Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room.
“She does not like you.”
“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie.
“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.”
“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands.
Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor.
“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.”
“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”
“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.”
“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him.
And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him.
He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things.
“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”
Morgan frowns. “Explain.”
“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”
“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”
“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.”
“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again.
“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.”
“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.”
“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”
“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.
“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.”
Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation.
“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.”
They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego.
“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.”
Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside.
He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”
You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch…
Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore.
Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you.
“They sent a new one in,” you say.
“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”
You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual.
“I can imagine.”
He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off.
“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.”
“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.
He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation.
The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time.
Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks.
When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”
He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”
“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks.
“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says.
She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”
Hotch isn’t sure yet.
But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong.
-
Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier.
It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once.
You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron.
You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s head as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard.
You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you.
It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round.
You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed.
Aaron says your name, and you hum.
“Are you listening?” he asks.
“Of course,” you say.
“Your eyes are closed.”
“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?”
You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly.
“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully.
Your eyes open and you frown.
You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.
It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate.
“Yeah? What’d she want?”
“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”
You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.
“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”
“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.”
“...Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?”
He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”
“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.”
Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?”
“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron.
You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction.
But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up.
“Go for it,” you finally say.
He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?”
“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.”
You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you.
“Thank you,” he says.
“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.”
He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.
“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything.
You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand.
Sometimes you need reminders.
“I love you too.”
-
“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.”
“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs.
Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third.
No one expected this to happen so soon.
The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt.
Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work.
An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation.
Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved.
He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it.
Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press.
Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.”
He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”
“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.”
Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.”
“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on.
“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.”
-
The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight.
JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city.
The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information.
“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.”
“What are they?” Hotch asks.
“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says.
“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks.
“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.”
“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”
“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.”
Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.”
“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests.
Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.”
“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?”
“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.”
“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully.
Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.”
“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.
“And?” Hotch asks.
“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.”
Hotch frowns. You?
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.”
“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again.
“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.”
“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.”
“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up.
“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.”
“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.”
Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.”
Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died five years ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail four years ago.”
“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.”
“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.”
“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.”
“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.”
“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.”
“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.”
“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says.
“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”
“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods.
Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him.
“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says.
“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks.
“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.”
And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him.
“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”
“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him.
“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?”
“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.”
“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.
“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?”
He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—”
“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.”
“What would I do without you?” he asks.
“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.”
“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up.
Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him.
Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze.
“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind.
“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.
“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”
And he does.
-
You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear.
Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale.
A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame.
Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner.
It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff.
Of course you have to deal with this now.
Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down.
“You’re already packed.”
You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.”
“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning.
“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask.
His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.
“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks.
“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?”
His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.”
“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.”
Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit.
“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—”
“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”
“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him.
“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?”
“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.
You take the box from him and smile thinly.
“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”
-
You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open.
You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.
“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”
His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”
“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.”
“They haven’t been back, have they?”
You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail.
Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”
“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests.
“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.”
He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops.
“Did you go to class today?”
“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff.
“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”
“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”
“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.”
His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”
You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”
“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit.
“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.”
“I agree with you,” he says.
“That’s it,” you muse.
Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up.
“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.”
“...Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.”
“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?”
You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”
“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”
“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”
You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to.
“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”
“I think? I was in jail, so.”
You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.”
“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”
He frowns. “What’d you say?”
“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.”
“What have they said about me?” he asks.
“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…”
You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.”
You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.”
“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.”
“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.”
You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home.
“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”
Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up.
“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”
Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.”
“I’m sorry.”
The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before.
You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard.
Then, there’s nothing.
-
Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is.
The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at.
It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims.
If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger.
His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”
“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters.
“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”
“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?
You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that.
It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him.
It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.
Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that.
Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”
“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?”
“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.”
“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.”
“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”
Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching.
“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”
“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”
“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”
“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up.
“What?”
“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”
Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”
“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”
Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night.
And now…
Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not.
“Thank you, Garcia.”
“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?”
For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it.
“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.”
“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly.
Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him.
“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.”
His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words.
-
It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why.
You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes.
Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs.
Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?
Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—
“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops.
For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze.
“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.”
“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”
“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.”
Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.
You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body.
You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life.
And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now.
“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.”
He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.”
“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?”
“...You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.”
“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.”
“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.”
“I’ve always believed in you,” you say.
He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”
You shake your head. “That’s not true.”
“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.”
You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises.
“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”
You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother had divorced him by then, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided.
“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?”
“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!”
“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.”
“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”
“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.”
All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to.
Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly.
When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget.
Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out.
You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here.
You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now.
“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.”
“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers��they figure things out.”
He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.”
He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.
“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”
Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.”
“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says.
“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”
“Put the gun down,” he repeats.
“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.”
“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.”
“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?”
“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.”
He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you.
“Put the gun down,” another agent warns.
“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”
“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think.
“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?”
“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.”
Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave.
“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.”
“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.”
“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”
“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”
“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?”
“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.”
Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.”
“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.”
“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.”
“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.”
“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”
“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you.
“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.”
You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you.
And then it happens so quickly you barely process it.
There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground.
You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you.
Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.
Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force.
Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead.
The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake.
Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”
A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms.
“I know.”
Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment.
“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers.
But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron.
“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!”
You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours.
“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.
He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete.
“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.”
And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name.
It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die.
-
You wake up in the hospital alone.
You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you.
The real surprise is that you wake up at all.
Lucas is dead.
He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded.
You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real.
You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life.
You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day.
Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all.
You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life.
And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind.
He was going to kill you.
Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU.
Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner.
The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him.
“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you.
But there’s relief there, too.
He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside.
“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.
Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.”
“And how long have I been here?”
“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.”
You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”
“How bad was it?” you ask.
Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…”
“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.”
He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.”
Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.
“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”
“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?”
Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”
Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start.
“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.”
“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.”
“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”
“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”
You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!”
“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.”
“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—”
You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same.
“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper.
You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life.
“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”
“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues.
“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”
He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number.
“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.”
You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner.
“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.”
“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”
For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…
Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together.
“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.”
“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.”
“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit.
“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.”
“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.”
Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.”
Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.
“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out.
“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume.
“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.
Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.
“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.”
Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down.
“Okay.”
And he stays.
This time, he stays.
#i was truly possessed while writing this i can't understand it#i wrote 15k words in 5 days#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner imagine#sadie writes
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hii faith! i hope you’re doing well 💝
if you aren’t too busy .. it would be so amazing if you could write ellie’s reaction to fem!readers hidden stretch marks.
i’ve got some of my own and i never knew why people were so embarrassed of theirs until i developed mine, i think they’re beautiful—i just need that lil extra confidence sometimes!
A/n: Hii!! Thanks for the ask and sorry if I couldn't respond quickly. I have stretch marks too, and I actually struggle with my confidence with their look, so this actually might heal something in me too! Again thanks for the ask, your the first one! I hope this is similar to what you were expecting!
You and Ellie were play-fighting, as always. It was something you guys did when one of the two had a bit of playful attitude, whether it's about something one of you guys did, or everyday tasks. Today though, you were doing homework and ellie was getting SICK OF IT. She had been waiting for 2 hours just for you to finish, and while you were almost done, she was at the brink of her boredom. "Babeeeee" she said, elongating the E. You already knew what she was gonna ask, because she had asked it every 5 minutes. "Baby, im ALMOST done, like 30 more minutes.." . She scoffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, "You said that 30 minutes ago, and your still not done.." You could hear the attitude in her voice, it was prominent. You grabbed the pillow that was behind your back on the chair, and threw it at her face, "Who do you think your giving attitude too, hmm?" Ellie knew what this meant, and it was so on! Couple minutes later, you were straddling her lap, pinning her down. She was laughing, having a full attack of giggles. She then had an idea, she would pull up your shirt and pull it over your face! That's the perfect attack! She quickly got her hands free, and pushed your shirt up, but you pulled it down immediately. "Baby? Why'd you pull your shirt down.." you slowly let her lift your shirt back up, and she looked at you stomach and hips. "Babe, what were you hiding?" You look up at her.. "Can't you see? My stretch marks, they pop out.." Ellie looks up from your stomach, frowning, "Love, do you think I care. Not in a rude way but, I don't care about your stretch marks I love you the way you are!" You were flabbergasted, you were super insecure about them, and the fact Ellie encouraged you that they were fine made you super surprised, but also happy. "Really? You dont think their ugly?" Now it was Ellies turn to be surprised. Why would she think they were ugly? "Babe, they are beautiful, they add to you and make you unique!" You began to kiss her cheek, leaving small pecks everywhere... "Thank you baby.." you said starting to lay on her chest..
"Of course, anything for my pretty girl" She said rubbing your hips, and tracing the stretch marks.
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HI BUNNY! first of all i wanted to tell you to please take it easy and take care of yourself! don't worry about not posting long stuff! remember that this blog is still something you're doing for fun, so please don't everrr feel forced to write something! i hope everything gets better, and that you feel better (physically and emotionally) soon! i'm sending you lots of hugs and positive energy 🫂🫂
and second, omg i saw the new posts related addams!matz and im LITERALLY OBSESSED! yeosang is lowkey (more like highkey) such a cutie i can understand the way darling acts with him cuz i also wouldn't be able to be intimidated by him. and omg the part two of the addams!hongjoong angsty writing 🥹 HES SO SOFT I LOVE HIM!! and hwa being so protective and caring oh im so whipped for all of them tbh. i love how much they love their darling, it's honestly so endearing to see. and i love how yeosang is quickly getting whipped for her too LMAO. i was also wondering if darling ever sleeps (nonsexually, like napping and stuff!) with werewolf!yeosang sometimes, seeing that she very much loves clinging into him. and if she does, how does werewolf!yeosang & matz feel about it!
like i said before, take your time, rest well and feel better soon! you seem like such an amazing person, and your blog and writing brings me so much happiness, so i really hope you can feel all that happiness youre bringing to me (and many others im sure!) right back 🫂🩷
take care mWAAAH <3
— 🩰
hello my lovely!! i’m going to rest up properly and start taking better care of myself!! don’t you worry. i’m sure i’ll be back soon (not that i’m really going, i’m just not writing much lmao) with more stuff to share with you guys.
thank you so much for the love on the addams!matz fic. it means so much to me (both the fic and the compliments) and i love this universe more than anything lmaoo. all the characters are so precious to me (even the ones who haven’t really been introduced yet) and i cant wait to share more with you all!
as for your question, the answer is both yes and no. yeosang has essentially become darling’s living, breathing pillow and naps by the fire with her favourite werewolf have become so commonplace that it’s no longer a surprise to hongjoong and seonghwa when they walk into the living room to see the two of your sprawled out on top of the rug. most of the time yeosang stays awake, his eyes big and wide as he watches you sleep. it’s sweet to see him so taken by you, but if joong or hwa ever ask any questions, he’s spitting out some sort of sarcastic response in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that he’s loving having you nap on him.
“you think i like being used as a pillow for this brat? please, she’s so wriggly when she sleeps; it’s annoying.”
darling will never sleep in yeosang’s room at night, though. there’s multiple reasons but yeosang would argue that the main one is that he won’t allowed her too. like he says, she’s wriggly and he’s willing to accept that when she insists on napping with him downstairs, but in his own bed? no way. besides, hongjoong gets moody when he wakes up without either of his lovers by his side. it’s happened before where he woke up to find that darling wasn’t there. in a panic he woke up seonghwa, only for her to return from the bathroom seconds later. he gave her curt remarks about being abandoned for the rest of the day until seonghwa stepped in to put a stop to his ridiculous attitude.
“oh, you’re going to get a drink are you? i see how it is… always so desperate to abandon me for better offers…”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#matz x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yeosang x reader#opposites attract universe
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Hello! Could I request for Aventurine and Sunday as single parents headcanons?
Characters: Aventurine & Sunday !platonic x Gender-neutral Reader
Synopsis: Aventurine and Sunday as single parents
Warnings fluff, spelling mistakes,
Notes: I just saw that my request the oldest ones date back to the beginning of March. (IM SORRY ill try not to rush them but also just them out quickly so everyone is happy)
𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒
He's the type of parent to spoil his kids but also sorta strict but like in a fun way y’know. Like giving you a lot of candy but he’ll make sure you brush your teeth. Then if you don’t he’ll tell you a scary story about how the tooth fairy sees that you didn’t brush your teeth and she takes you away and traps you in her basement, taking all your teeth away since you can’t take care of them so you don’t deserve them.
Spoils so much. Whenever he’s gone for a couple of days because of the IPC, he brings so many gifts back for you, it’s not like he wants to do their dirty work so it's more like bringing gifts to both of you since seeing you happy makes him happy.
He got you a jar once filled with candy that you both would share taking two out each—for the both of you—it’s special to you since you both always share two to symbolize another good day for the two of you yet you won't take one unless he’s there with you since how can it be a good day if he’s not there. (stole that from The Male Lead's Little Lion Daughter)
Oh, he's def the type when you ask him to teach you card tricks the first time he messes with you and shows you the most complicated card trick you’ve ever seen then hands you the deck, starting at you as if expects you to do what he just did in your sleep or somethin’
Ugh, he’s also the type to read your bedtime story no matter how old you get. He still reads you Cinderella.
𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎
You’re his perfect child. As everyone looks up to him, the people around your age do the same. You both are a perfect duo to each other. Almost like a spitting image of him with the way you act.
He’s the type of parent who you don’t like to do something that he would dislike…it’s not an angry expression or frustrated words but disappointment…just that disappointed look on his face without any words to say just staring at you with that look on his face bring shivers down your spine. “I told you many times did I tell you to not do that…sigh, I'm disappointed in you.”
You always accompany him whenever he anywhere to go—you’re sort like his pet bird just waiting for him to give you any kind of command, forget being his assistant you’re more like a pet—you both always look good together maybe you might able to live up to how good of a duo that Sunday and Robin are but that’s far in the future and as if you have a chance.
He’s loving, patting your head whenever you do something good, it makes you so happy to get the slightest of his attention since he’s always working so hard for the small amount of attention is good enough for you.
if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#star rail#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#aventurine hsr#hsr x y/n#sunday hsr#sunday x reader#sunday x you#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#honkai star rail
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okokokokok but like. how would arthur even bring himself to tell his love abt his tb diagnosis....... especially if u'd been like having talks abt a future together it'd be so fucking heartbreaking im. ugh
i think that when he finally does bring it up, hands shaking and eyes refusing to meet yours because he can’t bring himself to see the tears in his eyes mirroring in yours, you just silently wrap him up in your arms for a few minutes that somehow feel like forever and not enough at the same time, revealing in a whisper that you know— you’ve heard him cough, wheeze and struggle to breathe and you’ve seen the splatters of blood he’s tried so hard to hide into his handkerchiefs/bandanas— and you tell him that it’s gonna be okay and that you’ll be with him until the very end, i think that at this moment arthur morgan would fully break down. gripping onto your clothes tightly, falling to his knees, sobbing loudly into your stomach because you both know there’s no going back from this; it’s a death sentence and if it doesn’t kill him then dutch’s growing insanity will. and although you’d spoken of a future together, of growing old and grey, you’ve both always known that it was nothing more than a dream. a pretty dream, but still a dream. because your lives don’t allow for a happy ending.
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan angst#rdr2 imagine#rdr2 angst#red dead redemption 2 imagine#red dead redemption 2 angst#a1yaaaa#answered
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LOVE TRAIN INBOUND !! 🚂💨💨
This is inspired by @acuar-io !! Thank you for doing this and THANK YOU FOR THE TAG!! (even tho it didnt tag me properly 🤧)
Tumblr is silly and while I will tag ppl, I know not everyone will be properly tagged, so if u see this, skim thru the list for your name ESPECIALLY if your my mutual ! 🫶
To start off, I just wanna say that Fae (acuar-io) has some absolutely STUNNING sims, it's hard to exactly word it, but their sims are SUPER recognizable, and their saves (Snow flower, Cozy save, etc) are SO nicely edited, so aesthetically pleasing to the eyes 🫶😩
@oshinsimblr is the reason why I started storytelling (even before my simblr time) and why I try and find a story-related reason on why my sims/characters do certain things, her videos are also SO comforting and i love her lovesick series!!! and of course, @minimooberry the whole inspo for this simblr and why I render in blender!
@mattodore and @cinamun are AMAZING simblrs if u want rich storytelling and/or well-thought out characters, River has inspired me to really tear into my characters and give them more personality, and cina just genuinely makes such realistic characters and the tea is ALWAYS hot and simblr aside, she has very good takes >:P
@groovetrys and @circusjuney have been around on my blog and as my mutuals for a LONG time and they really are some of my biggest hype people, lori has an AMAZING legacy going on with her sim, Melody, and u should DEF check it out, and june makes the most amazing clown sims 🥹 theyre always so pretty and STUNNINGGGG
-> To add onto the above category, id also consider @miralure as one of my biggest hype ppl!!! Although they havent been around as long as june and lori, they always hype me up and it makes me stupid happy 😭 they make REALLY good lookbooks and i love their sim style SMMMM
if u dont know about @rebouks what are you DOING with your simblr-life, bc becca has some of the most human-feeling story/dialogue, i always get a stupid sappy smile on my face when i read her story posts
@jarakio has an AMAZING story called Girls with Guns and its prolly my fav story that ive read on simblr, the dialogue? amazing, the poses? amazing, the vibes? AMAZING, i'm ALWAYS hooked in whenever i see GwG pop up on my dash
@stellarfalls just HAD to be on this list are u kidding me????? Bree has a PHENOMENAL save called Valley, even tho there's no dialogue, each image and gif speaks more than words could, she's inspired me to kick up the quality of my posts and also start making gifs, I also consider her to be one of my biggest hype ppl, she always be coming in with the best compliments 🥹🫶
@torissims !!! She makes BEAUTIFUL posts, her blog is very yellow and orange and i LOVE IT, she pulls a lot of inspo from Studio Ghibli and even tho ive never seen any SG Movies, I can just see and feel the inspo, shes def underrated af 🥹
@amburgundy has BEAUTIFUL builds, and they dont just do TS4, they also make builds in other sims games!! (u did a phenomenal job with Madi's legacy house amber 🤝) I LOVE the clutter and they always looks so cozy 😭
@flovoid is another one of my hypemen LMFAOOO bro you and your tags literally make me so happy, i LOVE reading them. Flo makes AMAZING SIMS, and you should check out literally ALL of their sims, especially their sims Roo and Norman from Majima Land (first post under my Roo tag is me reacting to one of their posts with Roo and Norman, funniest introduction to a blog ever), Also their sim, Draco Almond??? He's got me tucking my hair behind my ear... 🫦🫦
@elderwisp has some of the most immaculate editing ive ever seen, the lighting, the vibes, the dialogue, the poses, the expressions, i be eating those posts up like im fine dining 😩😩
@changingplumbob is so chill, I love how much passion she has for her rotations, and her love for cats?? Perfect mutual to have, I also literally LOVE reading her behind the scenes posts, they're literally so funny 😭😭
@tricoufamily and @dejasenti99 make absolutely phenomenal renders, like if theres any renders on simblr that im gonna recognize immediately, its these two's renders, they're genuinely more HQ than my fucking eyes 😭😭
-> Also Nat (Missatan) makes incredibly HQ renders as well, these three are like... my biggest blender render inspos...
@buttertrait @missatan @virtualfolk @pearlean @claudtrait all have BEAUTIFUL sim styles, butter's is very unique, i know they arent really a sims 4 blog anymore but i ALWAYS recognize butter's sims when i see them on my dash and I genuinely love their sim style sm. Nat (Missatan) has SUCH a gorgeous sim style, you've heard of them hips dont lie, well her sims' lips dont lie 😩🫦 Virt (Virtualfolk) and Sam's (pearlean) sim styles are SO animated (if that makes sense), they're like eye-candy. Den (claudtrait), like Nat, has a sim style with the most luscious lips and poutiest faces ive ever seen and are just SOO pleasing to look at, like i just feel blessed in the eyes when i see their sims
@yukikocloud 's Apricot save and storytelling is incredibly reminiscent of Bree's posts, and I just LOVE looking at and reading her story posts, this post in particular just absolutely captivated me, I was drawn in and just get so giddy seeing the Apricot save pop up on my dash 🥹
@alientown @venriliz @nefarrilou @druidberries @machinegrl make STUNNINGGGGG occult (or cyber/robotic in Baja/Machinegrl's instance) sims. Nef always makes beautiful sims for their Cryptid "series", im just in AWE when i see their cryptids... Ven and Ana (alientown) both always make absolutely gorgeous alien sims and they also just have very unique/beautiful sim styles 😍 Baja's cyber girlies are just >>>>>>>>>>>>> I love her whole dystopian/cyber theme, its literally so good and so cool, and her Deadstars series? SO good. Alexis' (druidberries) elowen is so pretty, and her sim style, especially with occults, is just MWAH chefs kiss, literal eye candy
@swallowprettybird is just one of the sweetest people on simblr, I love reading what she has to say about mine and others' posts, and she makes amazingggg posts, I loved that one national geographic inspired post with the zebra, it was so well done
@softle0 makes some absolutely stunning builds, they always look so lived in, so cozy and I would ABSOLUTELY live in pretty much every single build they make
and honorable mentions to @droolski @felysline @pamsimmerstories @swiftviolets @weirdosalike @mushbop @calicosimgirl @shadowtrait and @seriallovertrait because I feel like they're all SO underrated, they're all passionate about their own stuff and I just love seeing their posts, and if you're seeing this, FOLLOW THEM 🫵🫵
Thank you Fae (acuar-io) once again for starting this train up, I love seeing stuff like this and it's so sweet to see what everyone has to say about one another, I may have spent 1 or 2 hours doing this, but it was INCREDIBLY well spent to be able to admire and appreciate all these people, them and every other simblr person, whether i follow them or not, deserve every last drop of love and appreciation genuinely
#tw yap nation LUHMAO#well deserved yap nation i loved doing this#i love doing stuff like this i love the lot of you 🥹#i just know tumblr is gonna untag so many people and its gonna make me so sad#simblr#simblr community#yapping
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ok this is 1. late and 2. Very specific but with the mer au specifically I like how dream is (basically, idk many green saltwater fish) a trout in the ocean. or just generic river fish in ocean its very cute :3 unless manatees are freshwater too and dream Is a freshwater fish then thats a first to me!!!! ive always seen saltwater mers so its nice to see freshwater mers :) and how its not just human and slap a fish tail on them theres Variety. along with how George is more. roughed up ig? dreams is more soft and theres more algae and George looks more like a betta fish (salt. water? maybe? im like 99% sure its freshwater and its domesticated :D!!!) bc of how his gills look (betta fish are also called siamese fighting fish) just realized this sounds kind of autistic Sorry im. a marine biology lover. future fish scientist if you will
Actually! Dream was a saltwater mer that moved to live in the mangroves (mangroves are usually 50/50 salt and fresh water! Dream just adapted to the environment since he moved when he was young) he’s not really based on any fish cause In my mer headcanons mermaids aren’t based on a certain fish, they just look similar from living in similar habitats altho I DO get inspo from real fish sometimes!)
And thank you! I love adding details in the skin as well as the tail cause idk I just think the features should be all over the whole body not separated by tail? Idk that just makes sense to me haha
George is actually a fun case cause he WAS inspired by bettas in the old design but the more recent ones are inspired by bream! (You can see the silver-ish scales and the fin!) but yes the tail and ear fins are still reminiscent of the betta fish inspo
And thank you sm!!! I also love it when people point out the very funny tone difference of algae moss covered cute water puppy happy mer!dream and I will bite you if you touch my man mer!george GKAJFKA it is intentional for sure as mer!gnf’s story is waayyy more angstier than mer!Dream haha
Mer Dream is mostly inspired by leafy sea dragons but most of it is just based on what if mermaids lived in kelp forests / mangroves? But if I had to choose an inspo it’d be this guy
I’m also a marine biology lover it’s been my long long hyperfix for most of my life haha
Also another fun fact my alien Gnf is also based on underwater creatures too! But mostly the deep sea ones haha
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Concerning the media overlords au:
First of all: I love it! Thank you for sharing the idea with us <33
Second: Does Alastor live in the tower with the other Vees? And does Alastor still move into the hotel? If yes, on a scale of one to absolutely how sad/pissed/jealous is Vox after receiving this info?
3. I'd like to imagine Velvette's fingers are constantly itching to get ahold of that handsome deer man, who doesn't know how to dress himself properly or trendy, and give his wardrobe an upgrade. Could you imagine this happening? (Maybe with lots of alcohol involved. So that he would at least temporarily let her experiment with his clothes. Bonus points if she is able to take picture too. Vox would obviously make himself some copies for.. private reasons...) Do you see my vision?? Can you see it??
4. Can Vox convince Alastor to do more audio features within their network? Like podcasts or interviews and the like? Or are they just screams as well? (I recently discovered a podcast about cooking, where each week they talk about one ingredient and explain a recipe with it. I think this would fit Alastor's preferences very well.. tho the ingredients might not be as commonly used now that I think about it... anyhow... now I can't stop thinking about Hannibal and Alastor hosting a food podcast.. oops.. sorry, but not really)
5. You mentioned that Husk still works in his casino, if he isn't needed. Do you have any headcanons for Niffty's whereabouts?
Anyway that's all for now! Have a lovely day/night! <33
p.s. Sorry if this ask is intrusive. For some questions it's pretty clear that I've already imagined something for myself that may or may not fit with your vision of this au. If you feel like I overstepped, feel free to ignore this or send me an alastor_fuck_u. gif :D
Im am very happy to have questions asked! You have no idea how many ideas i have and dont know what to do with xD
I'd love to see other peoples headcanons and ideas for this universe, if anyone does anything for it then please tag me so i can see ^^
This is gonna get long so I've put it under a read more
2: No one is really sure if he lives there or just works there. He HAS his own suite in the tower, but he's not always there when they go look for him, and not being able to find him is very a common occurrence, made more frustrating because he refuses to carry or awnser the mobile phone they forced on him. He hangs around in the common areas like the kitchen and living room sometimes. And if they do manage to rope him into something like a movie night its a huge hassle, because he will insist on a black and white or silent film if he HAS to engage with the tv, and Vel and Val hate those.
The whole top of the Tower is dominated by his large Radio tower though, its slightly seperated from the rest of the building, suspended above it with a staircase/ladder to enter the hatch. Valentino is usually not brave enough to check there for Alastor.
Its the same with the hotel. He does move into his own room there, but goes back and forth a lot, and doesnt have a schedule. Vox tires to pretend hes fine with it at first but often ends up the hotel to be a pain in the ass to Charlie, and getting kicked out by the staff of Alastor. Hes convinced himself that Alastor will lose interest sooner rather than later, and the others just tune out his whining at this point. No one buys it when he claims he didnt even notice Alastor was gone as soon as the Radio Demon gets back to the tower.
3: I may be planning to draw this haha He does let her dress him up ocassionally, he has a few differant suits he's approved of and kept, but does wear his original the most the time. Velvette has a line of 'Vintage chic' clothing that partly started as a way to get Alastor to agree to changing his 'ratty ass old man style' by appealing to clothes that were updated takes on his era. He still very rarely leaves the tower in anything but his own usual attire.
He does on rare occasions allow photos to be taken of him by the vees (and once, later on by charlie, under strict instructions that she keeps it to herself) but no video. And none under any circumstances are allowed on social media. He has blown up a few phones that have attempted, both the Vees and employees.
4: Alastor has agreed to be on a podcast a few times, but its rare, and only if its somehting hes really interested in talking about. It's one of the few modern things he approves of since its just a version of a radio talk show. Same with interviews, he keeps them even more extremly rare, and the mystery of the radio Demon keeps sinners in fear more than him being in the public. Vox always wants him to do more since the ratings sky rocket when Alastor features.
When Alastor has done an interview it is with his back to the camera, and sitting in a large wingbacked stupidly over the top ornate chair, that hides him from being seen, except maybe the top tuffs of his ears and antlers. And he doesnt reveal much about himself when he does. The chair is partly to hide him, and partly to stop the equitment form glitching too much. He likes to pulls faces and makes gestures deliberatly made to make Vox falter and look stupid on camera, since hes the only one who can see him in that chair.
He has teased on his own radio show that one 'lucky' sinner may get the chance to be on both a guest star on his radio broadcast AND a livestream if the mood takes. Valentino had to inform him that what he's referring to is called a snuff film
5: Niffty gets moved to the hotel pretty much full time once Alastor gets involved, Husk is a part time employee, but ends up spending less time at his casino as time goes on.
Valentino is happy Niffty is gone because she creeps him out, she ocassionally hung around his studio during work hours, especially if theyre doing a scene with 'bad boys'. Vox isn't bothered. Velvette is not happy, especially that Niffty is reduced to a maid/janitor for the hotel, and makes that very known to Alastor. Velvette loves Niffty, they are chaos sisters and work on very sketchy sounding potions together, and gang up against the boys.
Niffty is also a great seamstress herself and brings her designs to Velvette like an excited child showing off their latest art project. Almost none of these get used, but Vel has fun forcing models to parade around the studio and work in something Nifftys made, they often include bugs and bodyparts, Velvette finds this halarious.
#asks#media overlords au#hazbin hotel au#hazbin hotel#hazbin valentino#hazbin alastor#hazbin vox#hazbin velvette#hazbin niffty#headcanons#au headcanons#vox#velvette#valentino#Alastor#alastor radio demon#vees#the vs#the vees#v tower#radiosilence#radiostatic#qpr#queer platonic relationship#helluverse#hellaverse
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Quite self indulgent if you ask me. but i wanna cry so . ig this willl have to do
♡
𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 - marc s.
In which you finally lose your last straw with marc
paring: marc x fem!reader
wc: 1.26k
theme: angst, not really happy ending
✧˚ · . *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ. · ˚ ✧
You were too tired to do this anymore.
You couldn’t stand it. All the excuses were too much.
“I'm sorry, but I can't tonight. I have things to do.”
“The number you’ve reached is not available at this time. If you’d like to leave a message, press 1”
“Can’t baby. I'll see about it tomorrow.”
The feeling of loneliness and emptiness hung around your head. It followed you like a curse. You remembered the good times. The times you spent together making a mess in the kitchen, or watching a scary movie curled up on the couch. Those times where you would go on long drives without any care for the world. Those times where only you could think of each other..
But they were all gone. The memories kept fading each and every day. There’s nothing to do about it anymore.
-
“Marc please answer me…please”
The moon hung high in the sky as you waited anxiously to hear the phone ring. Sitting on the floor next to your bed wasn’t ideal, but it definitely beat being in a bed that didn’t feel like home anymore.
After the fifth ring the phone went dead again. No answer. The tears ran down your face as small sobs left your mouth.
Why didn’t he call me back? Why isn’t he answering?
You decided it wasn’t worth it. You curled up onto your bed and covered yourself with the warm cozy sheets. You slowly drifted off to sleep, trying not to worry over the man you loved so deeply. You hoped you woke up the next morning with him next to you.
-
But alas that didn't happen. The bed was cold and empty as you woke up with puffy eyes. Your heart ached for him to come back. You missed him. You missed his hugs, his smile, his laugh. You missed how his presence made you feel safe. You tried calling him again and again to no avail each time.
“He’s just busy. He’ll come back.” you told yourself..
-
He didn't come back until 8 days later. 8 excruciating days of calls that weren’t returned. 8 days where texts were read but not responded to. 8 days where the sunken feeling of being alone set into your heart.
It was 3 am. You woke from your slumber to get yourself a glass of water when you heard the door open.
You turned your head to see him. The man you’d thought to be the man you could trust. The man who had your heart ever since you were with him. The man who fixed your broken heart. The man that you could never let go of.
“Where have you been, marc?” your voice trembled, already feeling your heart sink as you watched him sit into a chair.
“Mission” he replied in a monotone voice.
“You didn’t tell me. You didn’t return any of my calls. You read my texts but didn’t respond! You didn’t even leave a note! Marc i was-” you started. Your emotions piling over you.
“Get off my back will ya? I had a god awful week and all i need right now is fucking rest. I don’t need to deal with you and your stupid nagging.” he grunted, laying his head into his hand
That was it. That was the last straw.
You had spent time and time again trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Always giving him excuses as to why he wouldn’t pick up. Always trying to forgive him when he gave you his “im sorry it won't happen again” speech.
But it did happen. Over and over and over again..
And this was it.
You were done.
“I'm sorry you have to deal with me. I never knew that it was such a burden. I’ll go.” you said with a lump in your throat.
“Ok then. Leave. Jesus.”
And that’s what you did. Packed a bag with your most important things and left.
-
Marc was used to waking up to the smell of your cooking. A warm meal to help him recover from the shit he’s seen. But the morning he woke up half naked on the couch, the apartment was empty. No sizzling pancakes. No distant humming coming from you. Just silence and cold.
He was confused for a minute. He walked all over the apartment looking for any traces of you. Some of your clothes were gone. Your favorite stuffed animal. Your toothbrush and toothpaste. He searched his pockets to find his phone. He opened it to find 26 messages and 29 missed calls from you. He attempted to call you, but when he put the phone to his ear, the phone operator said that the number wasn’t available anymore.
Now he was super confused. What happened?
It wasn’t until he sat down at the table did he remember the early events of that morning. How he told you to leave after you were expressing your worries to him.
Fuck.
He fucked up so bad
Fuck.
-
You got up from the couch of your best friend’s apartment when you heard a knock at the door. SHe was at work and told you to crash as long as you needed. Thankfully, today was your day off, so you spent it on a self indulgent day.
You walked to the door in your fluffy bunny slippers and your makeup headband. You opened the door to see him.
Marc.
“Baby,” he started..
“No.” you said, closing the door. But he stopped right before it could shut.
“Please , wait, just hear me out for a sec.” he pleaded.
You decided to listen to him, already making up your mind to stand your ground no matter what.
“Look, baby, i'm so so sorry. I'm sorry for not responding to you, or-or returning your calls and not returning your calls. Im so sorry baby, i promise it will never happen again. I promise. Please please please come back to me im so sorry…”
You could tell the emotion and regret. But still. It didn’t make u0p for the pain and sorrow you’ve felt for the last few months.
“Marc listen. I loved you. I was there for you. I supported you. But you took advantage of that. I can’t keep betting on your life. I can’t keep waiting until ungodly hours in the morning. I love you but i don’t think this will change. Im sorry.”
You felt his heart sink. You felt it because so did yours.
Marc didn’t respond after that. He just turned away, heartbroken and filled with sorrow.
What will i do… without her?
-
9 months had passed. You moved into a new apartment. You got a pet cat you named oreo. You had a very well-paying job. You had everything. You have been happy for a while now. You found joy in little things.
You were happy
You were.
Right?
-
Marc on the other hand wasn’t doing well. His life was in shambles. He slept constantly. He didn’t listen to anyone. He stayed cooped up in your old apartment, trying to recreate the old memories with you.
But nothing worked. He had to see you.
He had to.
-
It was a busy day. You had just gone shopping with your friends when you finally sat down at the food court. You got to the table a bit before them, so you were scrolling on your phone when you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see him.
Marc.
Your marc.
“Hey” you started..
“Hey…can I talk to you?” he responded.
✧˚ · . *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ. · ˚ ✧
welp
#marcspector#marc#moon knight#disney#marvel#moonknight x reader#x reeader#marc spector x reader#marc spector x femreader#moonknight tv show#angst#story#𝑒𝓂𝓈-𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈𝟫𝟫#marc spector angst#marc spector x fem reader angst#marc spector x you#fem reader
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not sure if u take sunoo requests ! But i really just love the way you write so i wanted to try 🥹
Ive always been interested with a predebut sunoo and just some fluffy first love relationship and hes like down B A D for this person :0
MY FIRST ANONYMOUS ASK 😭🙏 don’t worry dear I take sunoo rq’s, I do all the members. ♡︎ anyway let’s get straight to the point, I can of course do some fluffy first love for you dear !!! (and pre-debut sunoo is perfect for this… I need to hug your brain 😤)
(also love u x3000 the way you said you love the way I write makes me feel sososososo happy so I love u sm babes tysm 🥹🥹)
🪿 . . 김선우 > first love is the gentlest . .
“honey, my love, so sweet.”
나의 사랑 — predebut boyfie! sunoo x fem! reader. synopsis sunoo is quite literally obsessed with you ever since your school days, so when it was your guy’s first relationship, he took it to his advantage. pairings sunoo is very very clingy like crazy. obsessed and downbad sunoo at its finest :p warnings so fluffy you might die from cuteness.
(sunoo calls you bap and many other pet names, he just called you bap the most before the dating part.)
first the slight glances, the fast stares in the hallways, then the loud silence when you could feel him staring behind you. until he was more straight forward, passing notes to you sneakily as if you didn’t see him stuffing them into your locker. then it was the valentines chocolates he gave you, not just one, 10 packs of ferrero rocher and your favorite, tulips.
being oblivious definitely did not help, your friends would repeatedly scream sunoo’ has a crush on you, or they would hit you playfully on the shoulder when the both of you made eye contact.
maybe you were the straight forward one, on that day..
“what did you want to tell me, bap?
“I want to be yours. kim sunoo.”
and at that exact second, sunoo kissed you. it was like a need at that situation, at the heat of the moment. you were just so unaware of how much he really did love you. “I love you and your imperfections, bap.”
the day after, sunoo would sneak up behind you as you walked out of the back door to meet up with him. sunoo would bring you to his arms and whisper in your ear, “let’s go walk together, little bap” he said in a baby tone, reaching for your hand. “wah. I always wanted to feel your hands, it seemed so soft even from a distance.”
“don’t say that, you’ll make me have a seizure on how flustered Im about to be.” you punched him on his shoulder softly, while he just chuckled and smiled warmly. “what? it’s not as soft as soft as I am for you.” sunoo said cheekily, as they walked down the sidewalk, It seemed as if sunoo couldn’t even focus on a thing you were saying. just being hypnotized by your eyes.
“wait what? say that again.” he repeated for the tenth time, catching himself getting lost in your eyes. “sunoo. how many times am i gonna say it!”
“god why do you have to be so cute!” sunoo pinched your cheeks, adorably annoyed about how he couldn’t even focus on ANYTHING.
you guys walked in the hallway together, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he said hi to mostly everyone who he had passed by, until you both reached your classroom.
you sat next to eachother, holding hands under the table. barely listening, but instead playing with eachothers hands, drawing circles, tossing it around playfully, or just appreciating the soft feeling you felt whenever he reached for your hand and brought it to his. even after class ended, he was still holding your hand. he didn’t separate from you, he was attached to you by the hip. while you guys went out of the classroom, he kissed you on the cheek and you giggled like a little girl. “young love, so inseparable.” your teacher, sighed, as he watched you guys leave the classroom all lovey dovey.
sunoo brought you everywhere, he didn’t want to let you go or let you leave his side. you two were really attached by the hip, it made you feel special. sunoo really did make you feel like the only girl in the world, so not only special, but loved. “hey pretty, can I come to your house after school?” sunoo asked as he leaned on your shoulder, hand on your thigh. “we can watch a movie, bap.” sunoo pleaded you, desperate to hang out with you even longer. “aish. ddeonu, are you sure your gonna watch the movie or just watch me instead?”
“uh. second option.” he acted all proud after he answered, “can’t even be downbad for my own girlfriend. who the fuck let you be so pretty!?” sunoo faced you with a pouty face, but he admitted it, he could never get mad at you and your pretty face. that he adored so badly.
“fine.”
๋ㅤ ࣭ ㅤ 🐚ㅤ — I 🫶 kim sunoo
you were laying on sunoo, the both of you sharing your comfortable bed. cuddling with sunoo felt like actual heaven when he held you so close and so delicate, so gentle, while you felt the soft comforter engulf you so warmly. sunoo was playing with your hair, humming a soft tune to bring you to sleep. “so pretty, my pretty girl.” he watched your little actions and slight moves, he truly found you perfect.
“I can’t focus on anything if you’re in my sight, so beautiful.” sunoo continued to bring you to sleep, you felt yours eyes drooping because of how talented and warm sunoo’s hands were on your hair, alongside that, singing to you to help you go to sleep. “it’s okay, bap, you can sleep.” he reassured you, and sunoo really cared for you, it made you feel extremely happy and loved and all tingly in the stomach. it made you and him go crazy.
as you closed your eyes, he thought you were asleep, so you overhead him talking to yourself. as if he was tipsy;
“she’s so beautiful. keep your cool, kim sunoo. she’s yours now. but how can I keep my fucking cool when she’s so gorgeous and pretty and like the only girl in my world. how is she doing this to me?”
@ jwnstars !! Is down bad for this sunoo ><
HSHSHSHS I LOVE THIS !!!!!! I hope this is what you expected annonie, I hope u like it !!!! anyway pre debut sunoo was perfect for this omfg :3
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagine#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen fan fiction#enhypen jake#sunoo#enhypen sunoo#kim sunoo#sunoo x reader#sunoo x you#sunoo x y/n#sunoo drabbles#enha sunoo#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#sunoo fluff
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⛧° you promised you’d come back
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: jason grace x pluto!fem!reader blurb
warnings: angst, not a happy ending, interrupted friends to lovers, death of character, really short.
a/n: i know, i know, i have to post the leo fic first. whatever?? i wrote this late night in the hospital in my phone and i cried, so you’re gonna read it and cry too. this one doesn’t even have wc or song cause i literally left it just like i wrote. shits really short. good luck 🫡
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
You didn’t have any news on how the damn quest was going.
No Iris message. No letter. Absolutely no indication that your best friend was still alive. lt was a mix of emotions together, but especially fear.
Fear that maybe he wasn’t alive anymore. Maybe he had finally succumbed to one of those damned quests that your parents put you through, because somehow, they can’t do it on their owns.
But you had to cling to the small light of hope that was alive and that he was okay. After all, he promised you he’d come back.
“Of course i’ll come back, y/n/n. I always do.”
And maybe when you do came back, you thought, i’m finally be able to tell you how much i love you.
But all that hope was completely and totally crushed down the moment that Nico came to your apartment, along with Lester, Meg and Piper.
All of them had a dark and intense gaze, but especially Nico.
You obviously knew about the growing friendship that Jason had with the younger boy. Gods, Jason even talked about him like an older brother talks about his baby sibling.
And that’s when you knew. That’s when it hit you, that’s you’d never see Jason again.
“Y/n… can i come in?” Nico asked, his voice cracked. He instantly cleared his throat and stand up straight, swallowing a lump. “I mean- we. Can we come in?”
You just nodded, the tears already welling up in your eyes.
“Hm… Im really sorry to say this, Y/n, but… Jason didn’t make it. Caligula, he-“ Apollo - Jason’s half brother, cause nothing could be better - said, but you interrupted him with a raise of your hand.
“It’s okay. You didn’t have to come all the way here to talk to me about this. You have a quest to continue, i get it. You can go now.” You said, your voice trying to sound firm and certain.
“Y/n, are you-“ Piper said, reaching out a hand to you.
“Yes.” You said, taking a step back away from her. You and Piper never had the best relationship, and you just thought that she was the last person you’d want around in a moment like this - the girl who first killed Jason. “I’m fine. Really.”
You tried to sound reassuring, but Nico quickly caught in your facade. He cleared his throat again and looked back at the trio behind him. “It’s fine.” He said, and they finally backed off.
Meg was the only one who didn’t. She achtualmy took a step forward and pulled you in to a hug. She was a few inches shorter than you, so it was hard for her, but the hug was very appreciated. You quickly reciprocated, and she finally pulled away. She had puffy eyes and a pout on her lips.
“I’m sorry about him. I know you were close.” She said in a whisper, only to both of you hear, and you smiled. She was sweet. You nodded and whispered back a small ‘thank you’. And then, they finally left.
When you closed the door, you immediately broke into sobs. Your brother was quick to cradle you into his arms, and you just sobbed.
Not that far after, you felt his body also shaking. You didn’t think you ever saw Nico cry, but this was understandable, at least. He was his best friend. He was the best friend to both of you.
“W-why, Nico? It’s- it’s not fair! He’s- he was too young, he-“ You groaned as you sobbed into Nico’s old jacked, damping it completely. Bit you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when that happened.
He nodded, caressing your back.
He was gone. Jason was gone. Your Jason. Your best friend. The man you were in love with. The person that you grew to admire, looking up to how kind, generous and intelligent he was.
Your favorite person. Your soulmate.
In the end, all that’s left is a broken promise, a crossed heart and a shattered soul.
#all my love 🍀#postcards from leah#jason grace#jason grace angst#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#jason grace x reader#jason grace x y/n#jason grace x you#heroes of olympus x reader#pjo
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HII!!! for the past like two days I have been scouring your account for your yuuji content.. because it's SOOO GOOD. And I can NEVER find yuuji fics! ><!
I just love how you write, and it's kept me thirst for him quenched but I just- HAVE to get this out there. I guess it's a writing request..
I have this one specific thirst that just. UGHHH. Basically, I loveee yuuji fics, and it's common knowledge that he has sukuna inside of him. (Lol) sukuna, who can basically manifest as a mouth. DO YOU SEEE WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS?? there is just so much potential. And we already know the the mouth can manifest literally anywhere! His cheek, his.. HAND.
UGHHHH
Like just imagine like- being with yuuji, and barely getting into the 'intimate' parts of your relationship. And I mean barely (once or twice), and at first sukuna is annoyed after, bc like- OF COURSE HE IS! How dare yuji, a little brat, do such things when he KNOWS he can see everything! Nobody wants to see some new inexperienced couples fucking? (Me) nobody!
But.. if you can't stop them, join them.. right?
So, maybe he tries to convince yuji to let him have some fun with you. Though yuji immediately says no, that's totally weird!
...
Won't stop sukuna though. So next time you guys start to have fun.. worked up from a mission, unable to keep your hands from eachother.. which lead to yuji having two of his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, pumping in and out, hitting that spot that makes you see STARS.. when all of a sudden, you feel a tounge lap at your clit! 🥺🤭 whaatttt!!
It catches you so off guard, it takes a minute for you to register what's going on, but when you do.. you wrap your hand around yujis wrist, tugging him away.
"Whats wrong?"
!!! How do you even begin to explain? There's SO many things wrong. Starting with the fact that SUKUNA, the person who literally hates both your guts, literally tried to eat you out.. to the fact that, you liked it.. it felt good!
"I think.. I don't.. basically-"
What do you say? What CAN you say? What if when you tell him, he stops? Ughh this is just so- UGH!
"Whats wrong brat? Use your words."
Followed by a dark chuckle, like he's laughing at you. Coming right from yujis cheek. GOD he is so annoying.
"Sorry, brats, just had to have a taste.."
OKAY ANYWAY. This is getting too long BUT it would probably be followed by a small little argument between yuji and sukuna, but thankfully sukuna convinces yuji.. probably by saying that he could either use his mouth, OR take over yujis body and have his way with you ♡🤭 and OBVI yuji chooses the first one bc he doesn't want you to get hurt..
at first he acts like he doesn't like it, but that facade doesn't last long, you hoth love all the new opportunities that come with this.. i mean like, youre both new to all this so maybe when he isnt sucking on your clit, he could talk you both through it teaching yall sime jew tricks along the way 🥰♡
you see what I'm saying, right?
Finish it, if you want, I would LOVE to see your take on this, but I just HAD to get this out there, otherwise I would go crazy..
But anyway, how was ur day? 🥰🎀
-your horniest yuji lover!♡🎀
AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
omg??? first of all, thank you!! you're so sweet and this literally made me so happy when i saw it this morning !! i'm sorry i didn't respond earlier, i've had a kinda shitty work schedule + being a little sick so i haven't had much time here <3
UGHH I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! i've seen similar concepts (sukuna joining/forcing) and it's always so HOT!! i especially love the idea of sukuna licking at your clit and yuji not even realizing... like he's so distracted by the pretty faces and beautiful sounds you're making that he doesn't feel the way his palm morphs or just how much wetter it gets from sukuna's spit..... it's just sooooo good!!
sukuna makes a deal that if he's allowed to fuck you the way he wants, then he'll tell yuji what to do ("the proper way to fuck a woman") and yuji feels a little guilty for considering it but he really really wants to treat you the way you deserve and he has his own selfish reasons of wanting to feel you come around his cock. and maybe it doesn't take much convincing because sukuna's mouth is back on you and making you see stars that you both agree lol
and i don't mind at all if you ever wanna dump your ideas here <3 i think we all need a space to put our thoughts before they make us go crazy! that was what i did before i started this blog :)
#i love the little signature too its so cute!!#| ✉ | — received#| ♡ | — anonymous#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuji itadori#ryomen sukuna
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GIRLIE YOU BETTER BE READY TO READ THIS ESSAY!!!!!!
I love how sentient the shadows are in this chapter. Its like they have a mind of their own and I'm here for it. Those shadows are hers now, not Xadens LMAO Mira's eye is going to twitch every time she sees them hanging around her baby sister
so satisfying we got to read how Pierce screamed to death and Xaden needed to relive that memory to keep himself in check
Vi basically kicking Mira out and admitting the room is also his??? I bet X was jumping for joy when he heard that
X is literally ready to shut down/hurt anyone who remotely upsets his wife. He has no fucks to give, doesn't care if it's her bsf, sister, or brother. anyone can be on his shit list and on the flip side, make her happy and he will do whatever that person asks lmao
SO MUCH PHYSICAL TOUCH IM CRYING
The hair conversation had my heart aching, X affirming that its V's body and its okay to be upset about the prospect of it being cut against her will!!!! (wonder if V is getting whiplash from the venin convo and how ppl took away her autonomy bc it's her body, her signet, her choices)
I can't even imagine the bickering that X and Tairn were having and how tired Sgayel must have been listening to these two
Did X's heart break when V thought she wasn't worth it and wouldn't come to save her? Liam really did keep her going and was so confident that X would save HER
She’d misunderstood him once before on this, and he couldn’t let her again
SOBBING!!!! THEY TOUCHED FOREHEADS. Honestly, that can be so much more intimate/impactful than a kiss imo
“Like. . .” He turned his head just enough so that his nose skimmed her cheek. “Everything has shifted since I met you. You are the center of my world—you’re the thing I orbit around. Of course I would come for you. I would do anything for you. You’re everything to me, Vi.”
“Don’t—“ A choked sob got caught in her throat. “Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s the truth
“I love you, Violet Sorrengail,” he admitted. “I’m in love with you. You can’t get rid of me, in this life or any other. I’ll follow you through them all.”
In every universe, they are soulmates. I will die on that hill!!! That thing in my chest ACHED when I read this part. I think I've re-read it at least 5 times 😭😭😭😭 He finally said I LOVE YOU TO HER. He didnt and wouldn't allow any room for misunderstanding!!!!! Its all on V now!!! and thats okay!!! X will be patient bc he loves her
Was this the chapter where he kisses her forehead and wipes her tears away 🥺 I love them so much, your honor
HE GOT TO SLIP HIS HAND UNDER HER SHIRT!!!!!! UGH MY HEART I CAN'T WITH THEM
Rhi is so snarky and I love her for it. She might be X's #1 hater (Mira is up there) and I am here for it. I hope we get to see these two bicker
WALK HIM LIKE A DOG SIS, WALK HIM LIKE A DOG
He would do whatever she asked
Xaden is so soft in this chapter and I love you for showing this side of him
He caught her as she buried her face against his shoulder. “Hi, Sloane,” he said gently.
Everyone loves/fears Vi more than him and X is fully aware and okay with it
“Is that my entry fee?” Xaden asked dryly. “My wife?”
I feel like everyone is going to be hovering around Vi once she is up and walking around (We all know Xaden is going to LITERALLY be her shadow)
Imogen and the one kitchen lady (forget her name) will be constantly feeding her and fretting that shes gotten too thin and needs to eat.
In summary: FOREHEAD KISSES GALORE, THE CUDDLING, X finally sleeping bc his wife is safe and home?????
you are amazing and i love this fic and you <3
I am always ready for all of your comments let’s do this
Mira has been around Xaden and Violet for two seconds and she’s over it. Like why is he looking at her baby sister that way? Why does Violet like it? Why is she defending him? Make it stop!!
Violet didn’t want anything to do with Pierce’s death, she just wanted to go home, but Xaden enjoyed it for sure
Listen Xaden doesn’t care. Has never cared. Won’t ever care. If anyone upsets Violet, their relationship to her is inconsequential, he won’t let it happen 😭
Xaden is about to learn the hard way that it’s Violet’s body and choice when she starts doing shit he doesn’t want her to do. Start praying for him
Sgaeyl having to intervene between Xaden and Tairn was NOT on her bingo card and yet here she is. Mediating fights between her mate and her rider over some tiny human she won’t even admit she likes
The forehead touch! The forehead kiss! The love confession! Xaden touching her skin directly to ground them both! I’m unwell!
Thank you ily 🩷🩷🩷
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