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purple-plum-petals · 1 year

Note

Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing.

Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.

—⊱ I’m Right Here ⊰ || Freddy, Monty, Sun, and Moon (Separate) X Reader Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Glamrock Freddy, Montgomery Gator, Daycare Attendant/Sun and Moon (FNaF: Security Breach) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Jealousy/Slight Possessiveness, Physical Touch (Hugging, Kissing, etc.) – Besides that, Nothing! Genre: Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship Word Count: ~1,740 words Request: “Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing. Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.” Author’s Note: Don’t worry, this request wasn’t confusing at all – I actually found it really cute and fairly easy to write (sometimes I like requests that don’t take that much brain power haha)! I know other writers have done similar requests, but I just eat this stuff up every time I see it. There’s just something so funny to me about characters getting jealous over a plushie. I hope you like it, and I hope I was able to do your request justice! FYI: All of the characters can be read platonically, but I did add an extra bullet point for each that leans more into romantic territory and is marked as such! (Also, my Sun and Moon bias is showing.)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

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🐻: Freddy doesn’t get jealous very easily; in fact, he’s probably the least possessive animatronic in the entire Pizzaplex (with Chica being a close second)! So, when he notices you fawning over a plushie of himself you bought for yourself at the gift shop, he actually finds it quite adorable. You just look so cute treating the mini/softer version of himself as if it was alive! He may even take a few pictures of the sweet display. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest that you’re excited about your new plushie.

🐻: However, he does start wondering if you’re trying to make him jealous after a few days of this behavior. In the beginning, he just thought you were excited to have a new stuffed animal for your collection, but he now had a sneaking suspicion that you were doing this on purpose. So, being the mature fellow that he is, Freddy decides to just ask you directly about your behavior. He even tells you that you almost purposefully ignoring him in favor of a stuffed toy makes him feel… not so great.

🐻: Oh no, your “Make-Freddy-Jealous” plan backfired exponentially – all you ended up doing was make him feel bad! You just wanted to know if he could even feel an emotion like jealousy considering how open and emotionally mature he was… guess you got your answer there. You quickly apologize to Freddy, though, telling him that you could never love a stuffed animal more than you love and care about him. Thankfully Freddy isn’t the type of animatronic to hold a grudge, so your words make his mood brighten immediately. He forgives you fairly quickly since he knows you didn’t mean any harm by your little prank, but he will bring it up in the future to lightheartedly tease you over such a childish stunt.

🐻 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Freddy will just watch you with a somewhat blank stare as you essentially drown the plush in a sea of kisses. There it is, that uncomfortable feeling again… So, he makes his way over to you, gently removing the plush from your grasp and bringing your hands up to cup his face. Freddy smiles at you gently and, with the plushie completely forgotten due to how cute the animatronic in front of you was, you instead started placing kisses all over his faceplate as you both giggle about the absurdity of the situation.

🐊: Monty was very quickly not happy with the plushie of himself you managed to win in a crane game while you were slacking off taking a break in the Fazcade. At first, he felt his ego soar when he noticed how happy you were to have a smaller stuffed version of himself as you showed it off to him and some of his bandmates, but that feeling quickly faded with all of the attention you were currently giving it and not him (Monty is the complete opposite of Freddy when it comes to jealousy). You two were supposed to be playing golf, not fawning over some stupid doll.

🐊: He fairly quickly comes up with an idea to get rid of the thing so you two could continue on with your usual hangout routine. Without much more thought to his plan, he goes to enact it. Monty points out something across the course and, when your attention is diverted, he “accidentally” knocks your plushie out of your hands and into the chlorinated water that weaves in and out of the golf course. At first, he finds the look on your face funny, but that’s quickly replaced with guilt when he sees your eyes start tearing up.

🐊: He quickly grabs the plushie from the water and, with you following close behind him, takes it to one of the staff break rooms where a washer and dryer were located (they were there in case your uniform got dirty in one way or another – it was an establishment primarily for kids, after all, so stains were quite common). He apologizes in a painfully Monty way and, after some more crocodile tears from you, you eventually accept his apology when your beloved prize comes out of the dryer unscathed and only smelling slightly like a public pool. Not that much different from the real thing, honestly.

🐊 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): As soon as Monty sees you place a single kiss on the plushie’s face, it’s over for the poor thing. The exact moment your lips make contact with the cottony material, it is hastily grabbed out of your hands and flung across the room, bouncing off the wall with a comedic squeak. It’s unscathed since Monty knows how much you like the stupid thing, but he’s not letting you go near it for the rest of the night. He’ll just fling himself across your lap, making you essentially stuck in place as he demands to have your undivided attention.

☀️: When he sees you holding and doting over a stuffed version of himself one of the kids gave to you as a present, Sun feels his non-existent heart soar over the metaphorical moon; you just looked so cute playing with the mini Sun plushie alongside the children! However, once all the kids had left with their respective guardians, you were still playing with the doll. Well, that was strange – normally you’d be spending the last half hour of your shift spending one-on-one time with him. As more time passed and the time for you to clock out was nearing, Sun took it into his own hands to get your attention back on him.

☀️: Sun made his way over to you with a smile, easily snatching the plush from your hands and running around the daycare with it in his grasp. If you weren’t going to pay attention to him yourself, he just had to make you! You do as he expected, chasing him around almost as if you two were playing tag (or more in this case keep away). This isn’t quite what he wanted, but Sun was glad you were at least spending time with him, even if said time was mostly you yelling at him as you took time to catch your breath after running around for however long.

☀️: For good measure, Sun even puts the plush in timeout on a shelf far above where you could grab it without the need for a stepstool; it was a pain how tall the animatronics were sometimes (plus the fact you couldn’t find a single stepstool in the entire daycare). With crossed arms and a stern façade, Sun asks why bother playing with something that can’t even play back. After all, he thought you liked spending time with him before your shift ended! Believe it or not, Sun has a slight manipulative streak and, since he knows you have a soft spot for him, it doesn’t take very much convincing for you to spend the rest of your shift making arts and crafts rather than fawning over a plushie.

☀️ (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Sun stares you down like a hawk from across the daycare as you place feathery kisses all over the face of the mini Sun. Thankfully the children were gone, so now he could enact his revenge for having to see you fawn over the plush for the past however many hours. Sun makes his way over to you and, without any warning, lifts you up in his arms and holds you the exact same way you’re holding the doll in your hands, placing his unique “kisses” all over your face just as you had done to the plush. Eventually the stuffed toy is forgotten in favor of giving your favorite animatronic your undivided attention.

🌙: Moon pretty much immediately knows you’re up to something due to the strange amount of attention you were giving the small plushie version of himself. He’s sitting on the floor, cradling one of the children who is fast asleep in his arms as he glared at you from across the daycare. You were babying the mini Moon doll, giving it more attention than you had ever given him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was quite an annoying sight to see. He had no clue why he was becoming jealous over a plush, but he needed to get rid of the thing fast.

🌙: Gently setting the child down on the soft mat in front of him, Moon silently made his way over to where you were sitting as you fiddled with the small bell on the plushie’s hat. You didn’t even notice Moon approaching until the plush was ripped out of your hands, the small bell jingling as Moon dangled it above your head with a smirk. You were going to shout at him, but he quickly cut that idea off by placing a finger to his mouth and making a “shh” noise between his closed teeth.

🌙: However, no matter how much you quietly pleaded for him to give it back, Moon drew his arm back and flung the plushie over the glass walls. It landed in the net that surrounded the daycare and now had to sit there before you’d be able to retrieve it after closing. Moon didn’t feel bad in the slightest since you’d easily be able to get it back, but now you were ignoring him on purpose. Oh well, he’s sure you’ll get over it before the night ended. If you gave him the silent treatment for days, however, he would eventually apologize for throwing your stupid doll into the net.

🌙 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): The lights were off and you two were finally able to have some time to spend with one another, but here you were kissing a doll of the very animatronic you were supposed to be hanging out with right at that moment. Was Moon jealous over a stuffed toy? Perhaps he was, but he knew a fairly easy way to get your attention back on him. Walking over to where you were currently sitting, Moon sat down beside you and wormed his way into your lap, grabbing your face after batting the plush out of your hands before pulling you down and placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. Now that was certainly one way to get your attention, but it definitely worked out in the end.

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minustwofingers · 1 year

Text

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.”

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.”

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid.

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look.

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees.

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.”

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on. I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.”

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes.

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?”

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging.

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously.

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly.

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked.

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.”

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it.

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours.

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.”

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.”

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands.

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion.

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you.

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part.

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look.

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.”

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air.

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse.

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action.

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer.

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun.

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun.

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back.

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you.

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs.

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side,

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.”

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow.

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin.

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.”

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out.

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread.

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen.

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.”

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle.

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.”

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth.

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.”

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied.

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding.

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.”

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point.

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed.

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.”

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain.

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm.

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch.

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you.

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut.

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin.

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair.

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her.

“Trial and error.”

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap.

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.”

Ellie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking.

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.”

“Must be nice.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.”

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.”

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be.

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know.

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford.

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.”

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.”

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.”

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure.

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic.

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.”

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.”

You snorted.

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off.

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable.

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice.

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.”

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.”

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her.

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.”

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up.

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left. “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that.

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest.

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement.

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder.

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead.

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder.

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt.

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts.

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering.

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased.

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.”

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later.

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.”

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?”

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.”

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?”

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens.

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel.

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said.

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?”

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.”

She did not elaborate.

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound.

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did.

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together.

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.”

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.”

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice?

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring.

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense?

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence.

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, why?”

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.”

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.”

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.”

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.”

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?”

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you.

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.”

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart.

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?”

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.”

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.”

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.”

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you.

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to.

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave.

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right.

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.”

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head.

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind.

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before.

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.”

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine

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rabbitbandit05 · 2 months

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Head-canon: Mizu/Reader while on their Period

First official post for BES fandom, thats exciting!

I have recieved a few requests and have started working on them, so those will be posted very very soon! Reminder that if you have a request to please either comment or to submit an ask on my page (anonymous is on if that matters).

Ok, now getting into the actual post: Im not sure why I wrote this, could be because I was on my own period and it seemed like a fun topic to cover since it isn’t always talked about. These are all my own personal head-canons and may differ from what others think, so take all of this with a grain of salt.

I feel like Im also not sure weather to use You when refering to you, the reader, or to use Y/N, so for my first post I kept it very general (I use reader in this post isntead of 'you' or 'Y/N'. please give me feedback on this and weather you would prefer me to use something different.)

Warnings: Mentions of Blood (duh), Mensuration, and NSFW

🚫Minors DNI!🚫

Mizu on her period:

Her periods are irregular, mainly due to her inconsistent diet and stress she is usually under

But when they do come, she can usually handle them pretty well. She doesn’t mind the blood and the pain isn’t terrible either (considering the pain she has felt before)

It does bother her though that she is slightly limited in movement and has to wrap herself either 1.) very very well so that she doesn’t bleed through or 2.) rewrap herself every other hour, which is annoying and costly of time

She also hates that it’s an indicator of her gender and one wrong move could expose her

During the worse days of it, might just stay at an inn for the night rather than staying outside (if that’s an option)

Reader is particularly attentive during this time for Mizu and is doing anything to comfort her (even if on the outside she doesn’t show that she is in pain, reader still knows she must be)

Reader heats up water, messages her tense shoulders, ect. Really anything to ease the pain (reader usually does this, but does it more so while Mizu is on her cycle)

Reader also helps to clean her wraps, since it would look suspicious if Mizu did it herself and wasn't injured.

Reader on Their period:

Not gonna write too much for this section since everyone's periods are different and don't wanna generalize

When reader is on their period, Mizu is more attentive for sure, and more affectionate since she understands reader is struggling a bit

Might make sure to take longer breaks while traveling, so that reader has more time to gather and situate themselves

Mizu gives lots of hugs and cuddles while reader is on their period, especially at night when everyone else is asleep

NSFW:

depending on weather reader is inclined to sex while on their period or not is up to readers interpretation

If yes, then Mizu doesn’t mind fingering her partner while they are on their cycle

In fact, I think she rather likes it, considering the only other time there is blood on her hands is when someone has been killed or injured, or it’s her own blood-

She finds it almost ironic that the same hands that have shed so much blood can also be covered in readers blood (for a good reason)-

I don’t think she would mind eating out reader either, not finding it disgusting at all

When Mizu is on her period, she doesn't mind being touched, but also doesn’t exactly initiate it

She still views it as something to be ashamed of

And just generally wants to ride it out before being sexual/ sexually involved with reader again (at least on her part)

But I’d reader initiates it, then Mizu is happy to go along with it, though it’s still limited and mainly just cuddles

Suggestions and feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading!

-Rabbittea🐰

#mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu

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audreyscribes · 3 months

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 👑HERA: QUEEN OF THE GODS, GODDESS OF MARRIAGE, WOMEN, MARTIAL HARMONY, AND THE PROTECTOR OF WOMEN DURING CHILDBIRTH 💒

Author's Note: Hi everyone, so some of you have been expecting this. I wasn't lying that I hadn't give it some thought but I didn't write this earlier since I wasn't sure how I could make it work. It might not be what you guys expected but here it is. This is going to be a stretch and please suspend your expectations for this. This is for the anons who asked if I could do Hera. I tried. This is what I came up with. Thanks for reading, liking, and reblogging! I really appreciate it! [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

*Warning: Immense wall of text below [Keep Reading]

I can only see this happening, given that Hera is very loyal to Zeus, and how a demigod child of Hera is born.

You’re a child of Zeus when the King of the Gods became mortal (SOMEHOW) temporarily and Hera supported him like the loyal wife she is.

You’re either born like how Athena births her children, where Hera thought about (a) mortal man, or like Hebe (in some mythological records) where she was born from Hera eating a piece of lettuce, from Hera by herself, but was somehow born half-mortal, instead of immortal.

You were crafted out of clay by Hera? Maybe???

You were born when Hera had become mortal herself (SOMEHOW????), born with Zeus’s help *COUGH*.

Regardless, your existence or any other demigod child of Hera is unheard of. Like it was not even a thought of possibility.

No one is sure how to proceed or wrap their minds around your existence. I don’t think you’re told how you were born, but even if you were told, you’re sworn by the River of Styx not to tell anyone except outside a few very selective approved individuals. This is because out of the listed reasons above, only one doesn’t insinuate anything relating to the King or Queen of Gods being mortal; which would reveal a weakness to the two monarchs of the Gods and the harmony of peace among the gods, or indicate Hera of cheating which would break the foundation of marriage and the law behind it. This unfortunately creates a lot of gossip behind your back about your godly mother and you’re the physical representation of it. Something Hestia herself tells you about, in a disapproving way to your godly parent.

There are immediate renovations to the Hera cabin, mostly because it is not livable at all. You’re temporarily put in the Big House until things are done to the Hera cabin. Annabeth has been given an official ‘pardon’ by Hera because of this, so there’s that? At least.

Annabeth isn’t sure how to interact with you, given Hera’s clear distaste to her, and how you’re her daughter, but at the same time you’re also innocent.

Percy is also a bit conflicted given Hera was the one who gave him the amnesia and the whole camp Half-blood and Jupiter thing, but he goes about it a bit easier because he knows all about bearing their godly parents misdeeds and grudges and all that.

On the other hand, you’re living with the knowledge that by technicality, a lot of people could’ve been married under the Ancient Greek laws. For example, Percy and Annabeth could be or would’ve been married when you heard that they were playing hacky sack with an apple and if Percy threw the apple at Annabeth, and she caught it, it would’ve technically counted as “accepting a marriage proposal”, and they were married-

Your mother’s domain is technically powerful and important but at the same time, it’s not very useful to you; considering there’s a lack of married individuals among the campers and the only one who is married is Mr. D, but you don’t dare to. But it’s not like you can do anything anyway since he is a god and you’re just a demigod…that and he’s been avoiding you.

Mr. D just avoids you and you’re not sure until someone tells you that Hera tricked his mother, Semele, into making Zeus reveal his true form to her to prove he was Zeus, evaporating her.

If Camp Half-blood has the aura of uncertainty, then Camp Jupiter is the opposite. The treatment towards you is the opposite where they treat you with reverence but because Juno is so revered, being her child makes you feel isolated.

The cabins that are at odds with you are the Aphrodite, Zeus, Athena cabins, while the cabins that are more cordial with you are the Hebe, and surprisingly the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

At least there are a bunch of beautiful white lilies at Hera’s cabin, making the cabin more of a place to live than a renovated temple. The lilies are there because it is said they were born from her.

Argus is also your bodyguard for a reason. He was created by Hera for the sole purpose of being a guard and watchman, and considering you are the daughter of Hera, you fall under his duties. Not long after you were born, when you have grown out of the age protection Hera can protect you from, and Hebe when you’re past 8 years old, the monsters start coming into droves. There are monsters immediately trying to kill you, not just fueled because you’re a powerful demigod, but because of also Lamia, who she personally comes hunting for you. This is because Lamia, when she was a mortal queen and had the eye of Zeus, Hera was responsible for killing all of her children and became what she is now, and is also responsible for monsters hunting demigods to this day. Argus is only able to protect you only for so long so sharpen your skills and fight for your life.

When you get claimed, the world goes absolutely silent. Everyone stares upon the claim mark floating above your head, a peacock, like its a crown above your head. The spread feathers of the peacock does certainly make it look like one. With a crown above your head and a field of white lilies sprouting beneath your feet like a white carpet, it almost makes you think you’re a child of royalty being announced. But you don’t let yourself be that deluded much longer. They stare at the mark longer than you like to admit, some blinking and rubbing their eyes as if they are seeing an illusion. You already know who your godly parent is, so you know the claim is just a message to Camp Halfblood.

That you are the demigod child of Hera. A being that has not been thought of to even possibly exist. An impossible existence.

Yet here you are. And you knew how. And yet you couldn’t tell any of them because Hera made you swear to not reveal that information to anyone outside of a very selected few confidants. If they knew any of the truths, then it would break the balance of the gods and would bring chaos to them; threatening them and you.

The claim begins to fade, disappearing into glittering lights and as it falls upon you, so do the campers’ eyes. Thousands and thousands of eyes stare at you, not for you, but what you are.

Argus stands beside you, standing like a guard and his protective stance only adds to the confirmation.

Mr. D drops his can of diet coke and as it splatters across the floor, Chiron finally breaks out of his stupor. He kneels and bows before you, his limbs shaking a bit as he stutters as he announces.

“The bloodline is determined. Hera, Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Marriage, Women, Martial harmony, and protector of women during Childbirth. Hail, [y/n] [l/n], child of the queen of the gods.”

There is silence before chaos erupts as everything is turned over their heads.

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httpskuzuu · 8 months

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Softer

hola :D fyodor is alive - fyodor esta vivo I was thinking about making a masterlist or something like that, I don't know if when I upload this I will have it published or how I will do it

anyway, I really liked this and enjoyed writing it, it's longer than I usually post but Idk, by the way, I hated translating this, it was a pain in the ass, but that's what I get for joining a mostly English community ññññññññññññ-- well, this is mostly inspired by Sinner by TheBloodySadist, you can find it in Ao3 if you want to read it, I had an obsession with it a few months xd

jaja this has gone on too long, well, adiós adiós :p

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

sumary: You tried to escape and now you have to take the consequences, but you make something change in Fyodor... (juju, mistery >:p) Pt.2

tw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, failed escape attempt, explicit punishment, explicit violence, blood, broken bones, humiliation¿, manipulation, brainwashing, stockholm syndrome, reader needs therapy, stabbing, nudity, sedative, Fyodor is a fucking tw

You tremble under the weight of the boot on your ribs, you swear that at some point you hear them cracking along with an agonizing pain throughout your body.

The pressure on your body makes it impossible for you to breathe properly, which is a serious problem considering you are hyperventilating. Every breath burns your exhausted lungs and aggravates the pain.

You'd ask Fyodor to kill you already if it weren't for the fact that your throat is in a terrible condition from so much screaming and pleading.

"Well, I see I can't trust you, can I?" Despite the situation, Fyodor's tone provokes you inner anger, sounding so sarcastic. Something deep inside you tells you it's not sarcasm, it's concern, but you can't believe it, especially not coming from Fyodor.

You imagine that, if you had the strength at this moment, you would kill him with your own hands. You know well you wouldn't be able to, but it's pleasant to think about it.

"I do everything for you, and still you try to escape." He puts more pressure against your ribs and you've never felt as much pain as you do now. "You spoiled brat." He growls and his Russian accent becomes much thicker.

He removes his foot from your body and you can breathe. Relief courses through your veins and, out of pure instinct, you thank him for that act of kindness. He could have stretched it out longer, put more pressure on you and broken your ribs more, but he was merciful and gave you a break…. A break, you know that your punishment is not yet over.

You don't know yourself and your thoughts. One thing you have to hand it to Fyodor is that his training is really effective, but you're tougher than that, or at least you like to think so. Realistically, right now, you just want to curl up against him.

A kick in the side snaps you out of your thoughts, you moan and cry from the pain, your throat burning with fire. You never want to utter a sound again in your life after this.

"Aw, you poor thing… Does it hurt? Now you know how I feel every time you leave me." He's lying, you know that, but that doesn't take away the guilt that settles in your head free-form.

You shouldn't have run away, Fyodor isn't even that bad if you behaved: no gratuitous physical harm and he takes better care of you than you could ask of a kidnapper. You were an idiot, you deserved all this for not appreciating your life with Fyodor properly. God… Why did you try to escape in the first place? The Russian would always would catch you, you were just causing trouble.

Ignoring your destroyed throat, you decide to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't try to escape again. Please give me another chance, I'll be good…"

Fyodor kneels down next to your agonized body. He puts his hand against your tear-stained cheek, at first you flinch, thinking he was going to hurt you more, but then you lean almost automatically against his cold hand.

You cry harder as you feel Fyodor's gentle touch, you don't quite understand what's wrong with you, you just know that you want to melt against his hand. You close your eyes and tremble. You want a hug from him, you know you shouldn't want that, that it's disgusting, he kidnapped you and hurt you, but at a time like this, when you've been disobedient, he's still showing you affection….

"Shh, it's okay, милый." He catches the falling tears with his thumb. "I know you're sorry, but your punishment isn't over yet." You automatically tense up and slowly open your eyes to look at the man in front of you, there is a smirk of superiority painted on his face, observing your pathetic appearance.

You don't dare open your mouth to complain because deep down you know very well that you deserve it, you deserve the pain for being so bratty and causing inconvenience to Fyodor. You accept what lies ahead of you and let Fyodor pull his hand away from you.

With his grip firmly on your hip, he guides you to turn around. You keep the cheek that was previously receiving the loving touch against the ground a thousand times colder than Fyodor.

You concentrate exclusively on the Russian's hands, it's just an idiotic attempt to ignore the pain all over your body. He pulls up your shirt, leaving your back bare against the cold, why is everything so cold all of a sudden? Fyodor is too, in a way he brings you peace of mind, it's like he's everywhere, even in the air…. What the hell are you thinking? You firmly believe you're delusional at this point, these are not your real thoughts, it's clear to you, he put all these idiotic ideas in your head and now you can't get them out. It's agonizing in a certain way.

The only thing you hear is your irregular breathing, if it wasn't for Fyodor's hand clamped on your hip, you would think you were alone right now, and you don't know if you would like that more or less.

Something sharpening presses against your upper back. Everything breaks down in a moment as Fyodor makes a straight cut across your entire back. It hurts horrendously, especially as the blood starts to spurt out. You start to feel dizzy and for a few moments you convince yourself you're going to pass out, but no, your body is still holding on, focused solely on Fyodor's hand.

"Breathe, моя любовь. It's just a cut." You repeat Fyodor's last sentence in your head like a mantra: it's just a cut, it's just a cut. He could have done it much worse to you, you were fine, just a cut.

You take comfort in closing your eyes hard and imagining that you are once again a child at the doctor's office, that you are simply having blood drawn for a blood test because you have not been feeling very well lately. You make a fist with your hand and clench it, digging your fingernails deep into your palm, it's as if you are clutching the hand of one of your parents for comfort. There is no more pain, it's okay, it's all right-

Another cut, this time horizontal, creates a cross on your back. You don't care, you're at the hospital, and you're safe, nothing will happen to you. It's just a cut.

Fyodor stabs the weapon into your side. You open your eyes wide as a torn scream comes out of your mouth.

Fuck it all, do you really deserve this? Have you been so horrible? You assume that Fyodor simply hates you, that he wants to torture you.

Fyodor pulls the weapon out of your body, you look out of the corner of your eye and the wound doesn't seem to be that bad, you thought it was deeper because of the pain, but no, it was something apparently superficial. You didn't want to know how much it would hurt if he had really stabbed you deeper.

Fyodor's voice right next to your ear startles you. "Sorry, was that too much? Did I hurt my little one too much?" That mocking tone again, but you hear a hint of love and concern, or so you assume. No, it's impossible for Fyodor to hate you, if he hated you there wasn't that hint of love, was there? If he hated you, he wouldn't say to you like that: my little one, his little one.

"I can't take it anymore! Please, Fyodor!" He leaves a chaste kiss on the back of your neck, and you cry disconsolately, you don't know why, but you do know it's not because of the pain, the pain doesn't matter anymore.

"You can." Fyodor's voice is the ultimate authority right now, and if he says you can take it, it's because you can. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

After those words you instantly panic, you desperately shake your head, of course you don't want to disappoint him! You have to accept your punishment, it was your fault in the first place.

"Brace yourself, dear." Fyodor leaves a trail of kisses from the nape of your neck all the way down your back, above the vertical cut. You assume he's filled his lips with blood and hate yourself at the thought of how attractive he'd look like that.

A new cut interrupts your hatred. You scream, but nothing more, you can take it, for Fyodor….

It's just one cut.

You don't know how many cuts there are next, you are not able to count them. You don't feel your throat anymore, but miraculously it still works, your screams are still coming out of it, you are relieved because you still want to keep your voice to talk to Fyodor, to ask him to hold you.

Fyodor removes your shirt completely and lays it aside on the floor. He holds you firmly and helps you sit up, any movement is hell for your ribs, but you endure it by concentrating on your kidnapper, on his loving but steadfast touch.

You look at him dizzy, teary-eyed and shattered. He is smiling, you have not disappointed him. Your head hurts as you cry disconsolately against his chest again.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying now? Your punishment is over, I won't hurt you anymore."

"You…" You're unable to speak, it's too much at once, the pain and your thoughts coming together in a ball of discomfort. You shake your head and hug him tightly.

"Are you afraid?" You weakly shake your head. It's true that Fyodor scares you, especially on these occasions when he punishes you, but you're not crying about it now.

Funny, you don't know why you're crying, but you do know what you're not crying about.

Fyodor is silent, thinking about why you're crying. "Is it about the pain?" You deny again.

Fyodor hums thoughtfully. "If you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you." You ponder on that: does he want to help you? Is he serious?

You make the feeble attempt to gather your thoughts and speak. "It's just- I don't know" Your voice comes out shakier than you wish it would. "When you touch me… It feels so good, I don't deserve it, I don't-"

"Oh, I see… Aren't you crying because of something bad? Is it because it feels good?" You nod quickly, yes, that's as close as you feel. You're happy when it touches you, when it's good to you. Were you crying out of happiness? Well, you guess so, although it feels more depressing.

"It's okay, relax." He leaves a kiss in front, and it breaks you inside. "You've taken the punishment very well, come on, you deserve to be taken care of."

The process of getting up from the floor is horrible, not only because of the pain all over your body and your numb legs, but because your mind doesn't stop spinning around Fyodor's last sentence. It feels horrible and so good at the same time that your mind is only around one specific person.

He helps you up and you let him lean your useless body against his. He guides you through the house, being patient with your slow pace. He's mostly silent, except when he tells you how well you're doing or that not long to go. Since when did Fyodor know how to talk so pleasantly?

You reach the bathroom, he sits you on the toilet and turns on the bathtub faucet. While it is filling, Fyodor takes some pills out of a drawer that you have always found locked. You don't know what the pills are or what they're for, but he hands you one and you take it without question.

You let your head fall against Fyodor's stomach, even though he is standing upright he doesn't move an inch and lets you be comfortable, he strokes your hair and you sigh lovingly. You don't deserve it, but you need more of this Fyodor, the soft Fyodor who takes care of you and makes you feel good, what did you have to do in the future to keep it in this shape? If you need to be damaged for that, well, you are willing to do it.

"The tub is full." He warns and moves a little away from you, causing you to raise your head. You miss a little that he's touching you, even though he's only been separated of you for three seconds. He holds you under your armpits and helps you up. "I need you to stand up on your own, can you, дорогой?"

You try not to focus so much on Fyodor asking you if you could do it instead of just sending you the order, and focus on standing on your own.

The Russian undresses you completely, his hands are soft, and you feel them all over your body. They are so cold, and you are so cold too now that you are naked. You are vulnerable, now more than ever, and Fyodor's fixed gaze on you disturbs you. You are simply an easy prey to hunt, his prey.

He doesn't look like a hunter now, as much as his gaze is like knives stabbing through every spot he focuses on, you think he's not doing it on purpose. Fyodor doesn't know how to be nice, he never has. He knows how to be neutral: he can keep you alive and give you necessities, but he can't kiss you and keep you warm.

But there's something wrong with all this, he's being warm because since when are his hands so soft against your battered body? You need him, you need him so much it hurts, is this his way of being nice? Okay, fine, you accept it without complaint.

When he puts you in the tub you want to die, the cuts on your back burn at the contact of the water. You don't dare say a word at that or ask Fyodor to pull you out, you're afraid you'll upset him, that he'll get tired of you being so weak and whiny and stop being gentle. Fyodor could have left you lying on the cold floor, bleeding, but he didn't. You can't be an unbearable child to him.

The Russian starts washing your body, putting special emphasis on your cuts and the wound on your side. You look at his serious face with need, why were you only now realizing how handsome he was? Mmmh, you must have been blind before. He notices obviously your shy look on his lips and he smiles, that smile indicating that he was superior to you and despite that, he was still keeping you alive and forgiving of everything you did.

He approaches you and gives you the only thing you needed to be satisfied for today: a kiss. It reminds you of all the good things, strangely enough in those memories Fyodor also appears and disturbs you minimally.

You question yourself that, maybe, Fyodor does know how to be gentle.

This is the proof you need to know that now this was a new version, right? He kissed you. You feel a warmth spreading throughout your body, now it is warm, and his hands are warm too. There is a big change in temperature and it feels like heaven.

After that, Fyodor continued to wash you with special care, ignoring how your face might explode from how red it was.

The only thing that could crush the heat was tiredness, you almost fell asleep a couple of times, but you didn't want to fall asleep because it would be like wasting time with this soft Fyodor, what if tomorrow he returned to his serious and impassive face? You can't waste this time or you would regret it.

"Go to sleep, take it easy. I'll take you to bed when I'm finished." You looked at him as the most merciful being in the world. He cared about you…

You hold back your sobs for these acts of kindness, you don't want to cry anymore, not only to avoid possible discomfort in Fyodor, but for yourself, the headache is unbearable.

You let yourself fall asleep, with your head supported on your knees and Fyodor's soothing touch.

You had a nightmare which you don't remember, or don't want to remember. You wake up with your body held in Fyodor's arms, warm and gentle.

Since when did everything become so homey? Homey? Would that be the right word? Describing any situation involving Fyodor with that word doesn't feel natural to you.

You find it hard to feel your body, and your thoughts don't flow as quickly and aggressively as they used to. It's like being enveloped in a cloud, full of comfort and calmness.

You just feel something on your side, at the site of the shallow stab wound. You think maybe it's some bandage, but your limbs are asleep and too comfortable against Fyodor to move them to check. Otherwise, you feel nothing, only someone else's hand on your lower belly, it's extremely intimate in your perspective.

You turn your sleepy head and glance sideways at Fyodor. He seems calm, looking at you, his face is emotionless again and it scares you. You come to convince yourself that he is still the soft Fyodor, if he wasn't his hand wouldn't be on you, he still hasn't changed, you repeat that to yourself until you believe it.

"… Fyodor, do you know what?" Your voice comes out weak and hoarse, you wonder how soon your throat will heal. You're thankful you can't feel it well, so there's no pain anymore.

"Mmmh?"

"I think I love you."

"Do you?" There is a change, minuscule, but a change.

You nod and look away from his face, you can't stand it, no. There has been a change, you don't know in what. There's been a change, a change! Is it good or bad? You want to think it's a nice thing.

"You're different."

"I am? In what way?"

"You're softer, something nice."

"You're drugged, you don't talk sense."

"But you're different! Seriously, you never take care of me."

Silence rules the room and it hurts. Why did you talk? What idiocy, it's your fault everything that happens now, all your fault.

"You cried with happiness when I helped you sit up." Your gaze returns to the other.

"I know, so what? You want me to cry again?" There are no bad intentions behind your comment, there really aren't. You feel your brain empty, and you can't quite interpret the situation, what is Fyodor trying to tell you? Is he angry? Is he going to punish you again? It's exhausting to use your brain in this state, so you just give up and go with the flow.

"No, I don't want that." The silence stretches a little longer and, for just a few seconds, Fyodor looks away. He looks away. "I just… I thought maybe you'd be happier if I treated you good."

"Ah…" He wanted you to be happy? Really?

"I know I hurt you, but you know I only do it when you deserve it, don't you?" You nod and the cuts on your back burn for a few seconds. "Good. I really want you to be happy, with me."

You feel like at any moment the old Fyodor will appear through the door and say something like it was all a test, and then punish you for failing it. It's a horrible feeling, but you come to believe that it will seriously pass.

"So… Are you still going to be soft?"

"Yes, only if you are obedient in return."

Yes, yes, yes. He's going to keep being gentle. For some reason your chest hurts, and you sob, Fyodor has a few drops of surprise in his expression. You hide from his gaze and just focus on the yes, it's like releasing a horrible burden out of your body. You weren't afraid he was lying, something told you he wasn't, his expression maybe, or his voice, or….

"Are you crying with happiness now too?"

"I like the soft Fyodor…"

"Mmmh, that's good, isn't it?" He pulls you a little closer to his face and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. You'd like to kiss him in return, but you can't move. "I'll keep being soft then."

I swear all I could think about while writing this was to to send it all to hell and make these two fuck

maybe I will make a second part

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #yandere fyodor #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

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Hey, I only really need some short headcanons for this (but of course make it whatever length you want), but miles with a s/o who loves to cuddle and physical affection🥹 whenever going to bed, laying on his chest or opposite, holding hands, hugs, sleeping with ur head on his lap or opposite and hair playing and sorry im getting carried away ☹️

Thank you tho! always love whatever u write, I also do see that you’re not super touchy so if you don’t feel this one then that’s ok :)

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: Hi :)! You're not getting carried away and you've made me realize something. I don't usually write touchy readers due to my own experiences. I don't like being touched. I only like receiving gifts or words of affirmation.

But I know that touch is a huge part of relationships to some people so I hope you enjoy this. Ty for the request darling <3

In the beginning, Miles would slightly freeze up whenever you touched him. He wouldn’t know what to do other than touch your back but with awkward hands. Sweat and goosebumps appeared on his skin.

But the more you were touchy, the more Miles gradually began to acknowledge and swing around to your boundaries with touch.

He loves how affectionate you are. It makes him feel loved and appreciated. Sometimes being a hero is draining, and sometimes he just needs to be held, someone that can let him cry and tell him everything is okay.

He’s the definition of clingy. This boy cannot live without touching you in some way. He has to be kissing or hugging you, and at times, he may be overwhelming. When you least expect it, Miles comes behind you and kisses you, holding you as his hands fiddle with your shirt. If he could, he’d want to Koala hug you 24/7.

Whenever the both of you walk around Brooklyn, he always holds hands with you; his hands swinging back and forth with yours as he rambles on what to do. Occasionally, he’ll hold pinkies if he feels that his sweaty hands will gross you out.

Cuddles are really important to him. Never in his life would he deny your requests when you ask for them. The second he gets to your/or his apartment, you can bet that he’s scooping you up and making you lay on him on a bundle of blankets, wanting to know about your day.

With him on your lap, he doesn’t mind it. He’s more than happy to lay on your lap and let your fingers playfully boop his nose as he talks about things. However, Miles does like it when you’re on his lap, especially after a hard day of socializing.

Being able to run his fingers over your face, tracing your face, and watching you read a book, or be on your phone makes him realize how lucky he has it. By the time his mom comes in to tell him about dinner, both of you are passed out on each other.

When in his room, he loves drawing you whenever he has the chance to; although, he tries not to do it when you are in sight. In his sketchbook, he has a bunch of colored pages and thick pencil drawings of you in different areas and poses. Most things he draws of you are sleeping, smiling, and doing something funny on the same day with him.

If you by chance forget to hug him or kiss him before you leave, that entire day he’s thinking he did something wrong — Miles is chewing at his fingernails, gets snappy and grumpy at anyone, and sadly overthinks.

By the time he sees you again, he asks you straight up. And if you reassure him that you’re not? He’s so relieved that he’s on the verge of crying. He makes sure to hug you tightly, whispering in your ear how you scared him, and don’t do that again. He relies on your touch as comfort.

Gives you a bunch of piggyback rides. No matter what time or how many people are around, Miles is instinctively grabbing you and putting you on his back.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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stylesispunk · 7 months

Text

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 7

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is the reader's nickname, angst as always, fighting between our two main characters + smut, and fluff.

a/n: Hello! Chapter 6 is here. First, I want to thank every one of you for reading and reblog and comment on my story, it makes my heart happy. This chapter is shorter than the last two, but is a chapter I had to rewrite 3 times because, but I didn't like it at all, but I hope you do a little bit at least? haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated and please share your thoughts with me, I love reading from you No proofreading so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. Happy reading. 💌

masterlist

It's been two weeks since your last visit to Joel's place. It's been two weeks since you showed up on his doorstep, angry and broken because you blamed him for wrecking your plans to move on and start a new life, and two weeks since he kissed you.

Two weeks, and Joel had started to become crazy because of your radio silence.

He had thought that after your emotional outburst, you would simply need time to think, hoping that you would return sooner and ask him to try, for real this time.

After three months of not having you that close, he had replayed every moment of with you, every touch, your eyes, and the taste of your lips. He had poured his heart out to you, declared his love, and yet your response was requesting time to consider his intentions.

He feared you were tired of him, and the accident's wounds didn't hurt as much as his heart. He was recovering faster, yet his emotions were pained.

He recalled the night he crushed your heart, thinking this is exactly how you felt when you said "I love you" and he failed to respond the same back. For him, the irony of pain was how badly you wanted to be comforted by the one who hurt you, but now it was you who wasn't there.

The longing for you got stronger as the days passed, and it became increasingly difficult for him to sit still and wait for you to reach for him. Joel acknowledged that your silence wasn't completely a rejection, but he was afraid that the distance you were creating might shatter what was left of your story.

He didn't want you to become a memory; instead, he wanted to create memories with you.

"I think she's being unfair to Joel," Tommy said over dinner, seeing Sarah, Lily, and Joel's gaze on him.

"Why do you mean by that?" Lily asked, defiantly

"Joel told her he loved him, wasn't that what she wanted?" he inquired.

Joel threw his brother a cautionary stare as Lily scoffed.

"No, no, it wasn't. She didn't stay because of him."

The weight of the conversation was pressing down on Joel. He was aware that everyone around him were concerned about him, but at the same time he hated how everyone had a say about you and him, not knowing what really was involved.

"It's not like he forced her to stay," Tommy continued.

Joel's irritation was rising, and he felt the tension between his brother and Lily; after all, she was your best friend, and she would defend you from everyone.

Joel pushed his plate aside, feeling that he was in an endless cycle of emotional limbo as he lost his appetite. All he wanted was to have you back in his life, but that was a decision only you could make, and it was driving him insane.

"Can you both stop?" Joel interfered, his voice firm. "I don't need you two fighting over something that was my mistake."

Tommy and Lily fell silent, their expressions softening with concern. They exchanged a glance before Lily spoke, her tone gentler now. "Joel, Tommy is worried about you. We can see how much you're hurting."

Joel nodded, acknowledging their concern. "I know. Thanks for looking out for me, but this is something I have to figure out with Bee. If she needs time, I'll give her time, even if it kills me”

Tommy, understanding his brother's feelings, nodded in agreement. "You're right, Joel. We'll be here for you, no matter what."

Joel appreciated their support, but he couldn't help but wish that you would break the silence and give him some clarity about your feelings. The uncertainty was becoming almost unbearable.

Joel continued going back to the moments you'd had, your most recent overwhelming argument, and your decision to take some time apart. He wished he could break the stillness and tell you how much he loved you. He wasn't just driven by the desire to fix his mistake; he also wanted to repair a relationship that had been harmed due to his commitment.

He felt more anxious with each passing day, his longing for your presence almost unnerving. The gap between you required to be filled with understanding, trust, and reconciliation.

He'd been on edge for days, spending his days recovering from the accident, alone when Sarah departed for school, with only a painful silence echoing in the back of his mind, waiting for any sign from you.

When the doorbell rang one hour later, he felt a rush of hope running through his body, thinking that maybe you had finally come to him to talk things through. He rushed to the door and opened it, only to find you standing there with a serious expression and small envelope in your hand.

"Joel," you said before he had a chance to say something "I've come to give you this."

He was taken aback, expecting an emotional talk rather than a monotonous tone leaking through your voice, indicating an absence of enthusiasm.

You didn't even look like yourself; you were painted in grey shades.

"What's that?" he asked.

You handed him the envelope containing the money he had paid Connell for your shop behind your back "I don't need anything from you, Joel. Not your pity, not the idea that you own me because you bought my shop. I can take care of myself."

Joel's face contorted with an array of emotions as he was taken aback by your words. "Bee, it's not about that. I—"

But you cut him off, your frustration evident in your voice. "Joel, you can't just buy something I love, throw your money at my back, or kiss me and expect everything to be fine." You won't be able to buy your way back into my life."

He struggled to hold back his anger in the midst of your stubbornness any longer. "I'm not attempting to bribe my way in, Bee. I thought I was showing how much I cared, how much I was willing to do to in order to make things right."

Your eyes were filled with rage. "What?" you ask. "You thought that once I found out you were the one buying my shop, I was going to run back to you?" "That I was going to be over heals for you?" you hit him in the chest.

Joel's rage and pain welled up within him. He tried to narrow the gap between you and make amends, but every step he took appeared to push you farther away. In an outburst of rage, he cried out, "What do you want from me, Bee?" "How long will it take for us to get things right?"

You shook your head, the annoyance clear in your voice. "You can't expect grand gestures to fix everything." It takes time, effort, and faith to repair what has been damaged."

"All right," he said, taking a step closer to you and leaning in closer. "If you despise me that much, leave!" "Leave as you said you were going to"

You stared at him agape, your own anger rising at him. His words stung.

Joel's remarks had hurt deep, and you couldn't deny that you had been holding resentment and rage. But his closeness, his intensity, made you feel weak "Maybe you want to go back to what we used to be, all the fighting, all the cursing," he whispered in your ear, "Maybe you loved that."

The harsh tone of his words caught you off guard. Your feelings for one other were a tangled knot of love, anger, impatience, and hurt.

You were drawn in by his dark gaze, and you cupped his face firmly feeling the warmth of the skin beneath your fingertips. The rage remained, but beneath it was an obvious spell that kept you together.

"Shut up," you commanded, your stare locked on his, his lips inches from yours, his breath against your mouth.

"Make me," he challenged you, staring you in the eyes.

Joel's dare hung in the air, challenging you to break the distance dividing you, to let go of your rage and fury, and eventually give in to the magnetic pull that had always been between you.

You crashed both of your lips with not a single word, going into an intense kiss. It was laced with desire and frustration against each other, the climax of all the tension that had been building over the weeks you were together once and three months apart. Your lips moved eagerly together, each of you pouring all of your feelings into the kiss.

And now that his arm was healed, he clutched your hips and push you against the door, without intentions of stopping devouring your mouth in this hungry kiss. Your arms found their way to his neck to tangle into his locks, and Joel groaned into your mouth.

"You fucking idiot," you muttered between kisses, but he bit your bottom lip to silence you as his hands moved from your hips to your bum and to your waist, drawing you closer to him. His lips started kissing your neck until they found your mouth once more, you whimpered against his mouth.

His hands found the gem in your top and yanked it off. He'd spent the last three months longing to see you like this again, and now he was on cloud nine.

"Bedroom," he whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.

Once you stepped in his room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.

You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.

"This doesn't mean anything," you whispered as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body.

"Shut up," he said, and you chuckled, grabbing his pants.

"Make me," you said, with a smirk on your face just like he did minutes ago.

He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.

He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, his hands going under the denim skirt you were wearing.

You knew this was bad, that allowing him to do these types of things with you was a show of weakness, but you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire.

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.

"Are you going to keep looking or are you going to f-"

You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.

"You don't seem so mad at me right now, do you?" he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly pulled your underwear down, careful to avoid where you wanted him the most. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.

"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.

His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.

He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.

"Stop teasing, you idiot," you grumbled.

He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.

As he grabbed for a condom from his bedside table, you grip the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.

"You're amazing like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"

He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.

As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.

You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.

And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.

"Fuck you," you said in ecstasy,

"you’re doing it, love" he retorted.

You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.

He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.

Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.

"You don't have to go anywhere," he leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. You're exactly where you should be."

You closed your eyes, appreciating his proximity and the soothing sound of his voice. “How can I trust you?”

Joel's lips lingered on your forehead as he replied, his words filled with sincerity, "Because when I hold you like this, it's where I find peace and meaning, Bee. I was a fool not to see it then. It took almost losing you to realize I'm in love with you."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, everything seemed to align. The honesty in his confession left you breathless. The anger, the passion, and the pain you both had shared had led you to this moment, where the love you had for each other was undeniable.

Your heart ached at his words "Joel, it's not that simple. There's so much we need to work through, so much we need to rebuild."

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "I know, Bee”

Joel rested his forehead against yours, enveloping the both of you in comfortable silence.

“Can you give me my clothes, please?” You asked breaking the atmosphere

With a heavy heart, Joel nodded and reluctantly pulled away from you.

He moved to take your clothes from the ground of his bedroom and handed them to you. The air between you felt charged. The lust, and passion you felt for each other leaded you to crossed the line once again, this time, being the anger, the main feeling holding you together.

“You don’t have to go now, you know that?” he pleaded,

You avoid looking into his eyes, you knew you were weak for the man and you could fall for his words.

“I know, but I need to” you answered, as you quickly dressed, convincing yourself, you didn’t want to give yourself so easily to him again.

"Can you give me my clothes, please?" You spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

Joel nodded, involuntarily breaking away from you, with a heavy heart.

He took your clothes from the floor of his bedroom and handed them to you. The space between you now felt tense again. The lust and passion you had for each other drove you to cross the boundary once more, but this time with fury as the main feeling holding you together.

"You don't have to go now, you know that?" He begged,

You avoid looking into his eyes because you know that you were vulnerable for him and you might be persuaded by his words.

"I know, but I have to," you replied as you hurriedly dressed, assuring yourself that you didn't want to give yourself so easily to him.

Joel sat there silently watching you, his eyes full with love and need for you. He knew what had just happened was fueled by rage and desire, and that didn't mean you were okay with him. It would be difficult to repair your connection.

You turned to face Joel as you finished dressing. "I need some time, Joel." Time to reflect, heal, and figure out where we stand."

“It was good by the way” you addressed smiling at him, referring to what you’d had “But it doesn’t mean I want to be with you right now."

With those words, you made your way to his bedroom door.

“And what was that back at the hospital when I got into the accident?” he asked before you left, “Would you rather for me to be dead or what?”

You came to a halt as his words impacted you like a punch in the gut. You turned back to face Joel, your rage returning.

"That's not fair, Joel," you replied, your voice shaking with emotion. "You know I would rather die than lose you like that".

"Then why are you so scared?" he questioned, reaching for you once more.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to fight the oncoming storm of emotions. "Because I'm not just afraid of losing you." I'm afraid I'll lose myself again. "I'm afraid of getting hurt." You let out a sigh. "You led me on back then, how can I trust you again?"

Joel took a step closer, his voice desperate. "I promise not to hurt you again, Bee." I've learned from my errors. Give us a chance to make things right."

You shook your head, unable to find the appropriate words. "Joel, I need more than promises. I need time for healing and rebuild trust. That is a process that cannot be rushed."

Joel sagged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I'm at a loss for words, Bee. I love you and will do everything for you."

You took a step back, putting distance between you two. "Joel, love is more than just saying the words. It's all about showing it through actions."

You turned and walked away from Joel, leaving him with a broken heart and a need that mirrored your own.

You had taken refuge in your own peace a week later, evaluating your alternatives in all facets of your life. What were you going to do with your work, yourself, and even Connell, since despite his assurances that he would never hate you, you own him more than you realize.

And on the opposite side, there was Joel. He had expressed his love for you, but you had learned that words are insufficient in this instance. You knew it would take time to reestablish confidence. But as time passed, you couldn't help but miss him even more than you did the first time. He had a tremendous power over you. The times you spent together, the laughter, the shared moments, and how he taught you to fall in love again.

You remembered that night at the gallery when he showed you the drawing he had made of you. When he first caressed the skin of your body, leaving his mark on you.

Deep down, you knew that love was a tricky and imperfect emotion that didn't always follow a straight line. Despite your concerns, you wished to give Joel another chance.

A knock on the door broke through your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, cautiously approaching the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to see Lauren standing on your porch. She looked concerned, her gaze avoiding direct contact with yours.

"Lauren, what are you doing here?" "How do you know where I live?" you wondered. Your tone was a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Lauren took a big breath and looked you in the eyes. "I need to speak with you. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a second before stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She entered your living room and sat, her posture eager and apprehensive.

You joined her on the couch after closing the door behind her. "What's this about, Lauren?"

Lauren looked at you, her eyes searching for understanding. “I know our first encounter wasn’t friendly, and I want to apologize. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted”

Lauren's honesty in her eyes was not lost on you. You were afraid she was coming to tell you she was now with Joel, which could break your heart.

Lauren continued "And I'm really ashamed of this but I think you should forgive Joel"

You took a big breath, unsure what to say. Lauren's apologies caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for words. "I appreciate your apology, Lauren," you said after a little pause. It means a lot to me." "But Joel isn't a topic I want to discuss with you," you said timidly.

"It is," she replied. "I know you weren't together. He told me."

Your pupils dilated, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"And yes, at first I wanted to be with him," she admitted. "I wanted my family back, but it's too late now." And I have to thank Sarah for accepting me back into her life after what I did, but Joel? will never love me again."

"Why are you so sure?" you questioned, your tone tense.

"Because he has been in love since the beginning."

"The eyes, he had been looking at you with such adoration, neither I had those eyes looking at me like that."

You were out of breath, and a knot formed in your throat.

"No, that's not-"

"You love him too," she said, "and let me tell you something, the years I lost with Sarah?" I'm not going to get them back. So, if you and Joel truly love each other, don't waste more time."

Lauren's sudden comments stunned you while also leaving you conflicted. Her apology for her prior behavior was a step toward peacemaking, but her admissions regarding Joel and his sentiments caught you off guard.

You paused before responding, your mind racing, "I'm not sure I want to get hurt again."

She nodded in agreement, and he dug inside her purse for something, that turned out to be a journal.

She nodded in understanding, and then he reached for something inside her bag for something, it was a journal.

“I stole this from Joel. I think you should take a look” she laughed, giving the journal to you.

“I just don't want to see you both miss out on something beautiful because of fear or doubts. Life's too short for regrets."

You looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I need time, Lauren, to figure things out and heal. I'll consider what you've said, though. Thank you for your apology and for your concern."

Lauren smiled warmly at you “Good luck” she said.

You couldn't help but stare at the book in your hands as you saw Lauren leave your house.

The journal she had given you caught your curiosity, and you couldn't stop yourself from opening it to find out what was inside.

You started flipping the pages, knowing it was Joel's journal. The entries spanned several years ago, from the years you arrived here, and reading them made you feel touched by the depth of his feelings and the journey he had been on. The pages were crammed with his ideas, hopes, and dreams, many of which were centered on you.

Joel had written about the day you two first met and the times he had spent with you, but it was the drawings of you that grabbed your attention.

"The pretty florist next to my gallery looking at her flowers"

"The florist in her environment, framed by a floral tapestry."

"The pretty florist, a captivating muse for my brush and canvas."

All of the entries were from the last four years.

However, the most recent one, from a year ago,

"the florist who stole my heart"

And you realized Joel had been loving you long before you had feelings for him.

a/n: Okay, so you know things may get better between them...

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981

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yuri-is-online · 8 months

Note

Masquerade request with number 5 for Jamil (tho not sure he'd be shy, more like reticent, potentially) aand since I can ask for two others I guess I might as well go for Azul and Deuce who kinda seem like suitable sorts for this prompt.

Ty!

-viperwhispered

5. You know it's him and he knows it's you, but you're both a bit too shy to admit you would like to keep holding onto each other when the masks come off, so you'll just stay here together a little longer.

Completely agree that Jamil wouldn't be shy in this scenario, more like a prisoner of his own self destructive tendencies. Also hello! I'm always really happy to see you in my notifications Whisper <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> Your comments are always very much appreciated.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is mildly angsty and I am uncertain if I have provided any comfort here. Uhh unrequited requited love, everyone here is a pining idiot, Deuce is bro zoning himself. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Jamil

He is unprepared for what it feels like to hold you.

It's one thing to look at someone, another to think of them, but both keep a level of imagination to the interaction. Jamil doesn't have the risk of failure in his imagination; he can comfort himself in his perceived superiority and not actually make the effort. There is no warmth in those thoughts, no weight, no you, nothing resembling the delicate weight in his arms that he finds himself wanting to-

"Are you alright?" You ask softly, bringing some focus back to Jamil's eyes, he smiles at you and you wish you could be certain that he really means it.

"I'm just... unused to this." Jamil chooses his words carefully. He does not expect you to know it's him, but there's always the chance someone else does. It makes him feel sick to think the small sigh of relief you give could be meant for someone else, his mind has a ready supply of suspects, but tonight is supposed to be for strangers to play act at romance. He is... allowed... to want this. "I am not that interesting of a guy, you know?"

"I'm sure you're plenty interesting." You say and Jamil swallows to steady himself, trying to remind the spiraling fractions of his mind that you are saying this to a stranger. You would, you have very likely, said this to anyone who needed the encouragement. "If you let yourself go I am sure you will find there's a person underneath the act." But would it be one you approve of? And why is he worrying over that when everyone should approve of him anyway, especially considering what middling results his classmates are barely capable of?

"Your compliments aren't necessary." His smile says otherwise but you cannot bring yourself to push it least you push Jamil away. "But if you wish to keep them coming I will not stop you." You wind your arms around him to pull Jamil just a bit closer. If only he could read your mind as well as command it, if only he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Are you sure you can withstand it?" No he's not. "Because I could go on for quite some time." You are clearly teasing him. Jamil's heart should be used to stress, it's been working overtime since he was first sworn over to Kalim, but he's not. There's something new about this stress, or maybe it isn't stress at all and that's just what he's labeling it because that's what he is used to feeling.

"I can take anything." Jamil certainly projects something like confidence, but even as the other guests begin removing their masks his stays firmly put. In both senses you suppose, unable to keep a bitter sigh from escaping you.

But you say nothing, choosing to simply squeeze his hand and hope that he will somehow inhale the meaning of your movements with the sharp breath he takes.

You can want this, please say you want this, please say you want me and give me a reason to stay.

But he can't in good conscious. He is bound by a duty he wishes upon no one, he refuses to ask properly. Just what it is Jamil wants of you needs to be asked for in freedom. So once again you slip away into the night alone with his hand reaching out towards you just out of sight.

Azul

"You have a strong grip." Your voice is muffled as the gentle, but strong hand at the back of your head keeps you firmly resting on this handsome "stranger's" shoulder.

Azul appears to be under the impression this will be easier on him if he cannot see you, but he seems to have forgotten he still can look down the expanse of your back when he holds you this close. What you're doing can barely be described as dancing, swaying is what people might call it but Azul barely registers that he is moving.

"Of course I do." His voice lacks the usual musical performance you associate with it, he sounds almost... tired. Overwhelmed, you decide is the more accurate term as you exhale into his neck and try not to savor the way he shudders. "To keep precious things close is what any pirate would do, hm?" You smile.

"Fancy yourself a heart thief? I would think that's a more Heartslabyul gig." He stiffens, you know he was just trying to make a jest at the appearance of his costume but you appear to have touched some sort of nerve. Azul pulls you closer, arm wrapping properly around your waist instead of simply sitting on it.

"Is it?" Azul wants to vomit all his feelings up, eject them like a sea cucumber and walk off the embarrassment from showing his guts. Anything has to be less painful than thinking of his-

No you are not his. That's why he is being a coward and not looking you in the eye like any proper gentleman would. Why he had asked for a dance, kissed your hand, and not let go of you all under the flimsy pretense of a mask. Azul dislikes taking solace in your kindness, but he knows he can rely on you to not make him pay for this. Even if you really should.

"Has your heart already been carried off to a maze?" Azul is trying to make a joke, but you are so close to his heart you can hear the nerves hammering away at his typical sense of self.

"I think my heart is drowning." You whisper it, low into his pulse point before your eyes squeeze close in embarrassment. Azul's pulse does not slow, and he cannot squeeze you any closer, a sure sign as if you needed it that he isn't Floyd nor could he ever pretend to be. But he can guide you into a sway that's a little more like a dance.

This is enough for tonight. It will not be enough tomorrow, but it is enough for tonight.

Deuce

This is how friends look at each other. Deuce would know because he has never looked at you any other way. There's a respectful distance between you both, an almost boring decorum to the proper ballroom dance he is happily guiding you in. If it weren't for his continued refusal to call you by your name or meaningless title, it would be like you were talking normally.

"Do they have dances like this where you're from?" Deuce is genuine in his interest, always eager to find a new way to ensure you feel like you belong.

"In books and movies maybe." Your laughter makes him soar, spinning you into the air for a brief second that adds a shriek to it that brings a grin to his face that has you feeling lightheaded. "Honestly I never thought I would get a chance to go to something like this!"

"Why not?" It's a stupid question, even if you have repeatedly reassured him there is no such thing.

"Well a Masquerade is kind of a rich people thing, and I'm not rich." Technically you shouldn't be here either, but you let that thought go unsaid. It never even crosses Deuce's mind, there is something so natural about having you in his arms that the idea of a world without you in it-

A world without you in it. It crystalizes as someone taps on the mic to announce the band will play just one as nice slow song that if everything in Twisted Wonderland had been normal he would be rolling his eyes at as he escapes to the sidelines. But that's not what's happening, he is pulling you closer to him and placing his arm around your waist without so much as a second thought.

"I'm not rich either." Deuce says, no where near as stiff in tone or posture as you would have expected him to be when trying to slow dance. If anything he holds you as if it is the most natural thing in the world to him, lapsing into uncharacteristic silence as he really looks you in the eyes with some strange hidden emotion in them.

It's always been there of course, this is always the way Deuce looks at you, but the mask ironically forces you to really see it.

"I'm lucky to be in this world with you." He means it, and though you hold tightly to his hand he doesn't think you know just how much.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #deuce spade x reader #500 followers celebration #thank you for saying i am handling the mistaken ids well #i agree they tend to be contrived which is why i have tried to avoid making anyone angry at each other #because that majorly triggers my second hand embarrassment

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staytinyville · 8 months

Text

OUTLAW (21)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none, mentions of the previous chapters

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). Just know I am reading every single one of your comments and reblogs. I love them so much!

You kept an eye on Jongho, who stayed quiet the entire trip back to the boys. You were glancing at him every so often, sighing when he just stared ahead. He didn’t bother to look at you, which left you a mess.

It was way past the middle of the night by then, but the boys assured you it was not a problem. The one lantern they were using was enough to light the way. As you all pulled up to the camp, it was quiet until someone opened up their tent to take a look at what the noise was.

“What are y'all doing back?” Hongjoong asked, walking closer to the four of you.

“Plans changed.” Yunho sighed, pulling you off of his horse. As you walked into the camp, the others had moved to put their horses where the others were.

San had gotten out of his tent, looking around and finding you waiting. He took notice of your tired expression, walking closer to you.

“You alright, Darling?” He asked, placing his hands on your arms.

You tried to give him a smile, but you were too emotionally tired. “Yeah. I'm fine, San.” You told him.

“We're here if you need anything.” He continued, rubbing his hand along your sleeve.

“I know you are.” You whispered with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“You wanna go to sleep?” San perked up, pulling you along. “You can sleep in my tent. Let's get you into some other clothes.”

You had a tired smile the whole time the man spoke to you. You allowed him to drag you into his tent, quickly moving about to find a clean shirt to give you. When he found what he needed, he handed it to you before moving back out the tent without a word.

You were grateful for how gentlemanly they all were. They could tease you all they wanted, but they for sure knew how to respect others. It was something you found yourself admiring. They were not at all what one would dare consider criminals. At least not when you got to know them. It left a bubbly feeling in your chest to think about them at all.

When you had finished dressing, San walked back in, giving a closed eyed smile when he took you in. A blush was starting to settle on his cheeks as he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothing.

“Thanks for the shirt.” You spoke up, moving to sit down on his bedroll.

San watched as your shoulders dropped and you began to fidget with your fingers. He knew the tale-tell signs that you were stuck in your own head and it was making you emotional.

“Hey, please talk to me.” San spoke up, kneeling down in front of you. “I know something's bothering you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you tried not to cry in front of San. The man looked intimidating–seemed like he frightened just about anyone with how wide he looked. However, he was the sweetest man you had ever met. You knew he was someone who would listen to you.

“I had a fight with my parents.” You softly told him.

“Those sometimes happen.” San scooted closer, moving to your side.

Tears started to pool in your eyes once more, lips wobbling as you tried to speak. “Yeah, but not because they think you're a–a who-”

“You are not!” San stopped you from finishing. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, almost offended you dared to say that. “Don't ever think for one moment you are.” He shook his head.

Your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, trying your hardest to justify what you had done. You knew that there was something wrong with what you were thinking. You were even honest with Mingi after he had kissed you. Not only that, you didn’t know which one of them you liked in a romantic sense and it left you in a dilemma.

There was nothing wrong with liking multiple men, however in the end there was only one a woman could choose. But did you really want to pick just one of them? You were the kind of person who wanted to get to know someone before even thinking about them romantically. And you had spent enough time with some of the boys to know that you were starting to like them.

And because of that, it made you think that your parents were right about you. Who in their right minds liked multiple boys? Who would dare to even tell them that?

“But-I kisses Mingi-” You choked out.

“What does kissing Mingi have anything to do with what you are saying?” San frowned.

“Because I don't know what to do with my feelings for everything.” Everyone was what you wanted to tell him. However, that involved telling him that you liked them all.

“Do you like Mingi?” San asked, looking at you as he waited for your answer.

As you looked at him, everything seemed to flood in as you didn’t really know what to tell him. How were you supposed to answer him when he looked at you with kind eyes? He was a patient man who valued your words. You were a dead woman with how they all treated you.

“Yes? Maybe. I don't know.” You groaned. “It's complicated.” Your shoulders dropped as you thought about what to tell him. “After he saved me, I feel like things changed.”

“Good or bad?” He tilted his head.

There was a fine line between knowing what was good and what was bad. You had your very obvious ones that made you look stupid if you didn’t think about it before. However, when it came to the feelings a human has, there were a lot of troublesome details that fell into it.

Your feelings were your own, just as theirs were. In your head you knew it didn’t matter what others thought of it because it was what you wanted. They weren’t going to be the ones who supported you when things got tough. Perhaps your family was always going to be there, but if it was what made you happy, why would you give it up just to please them?

But they were still your family. They had taken care of you your entire life, up until that point, and will probably be the only people who knew better than anyone else. You cared deeply for their opinions, which left you with an aching heart over choosing your happiness or the safe route of staying at home.

“I can't answer that if I don't know.” You explained. “And the only reason I think that, is because I don't know if it's normal to think the way I do.”

“I'm sure you'll figure it out.” San patted your knee, humming.

You’ll figure it out? Figure out exactly what? That you were being pulled in different directions and didn’t know which one to take? You didn’t ever think that liking a man would be so troublesome. But then again, the first time you would ever like one, it just had to be multiple men.

You had no idea what it was like to court someone, nor to have someone court you. You never really got past a first date with someone and didn’t get to experience the full thing of having someone listen to you, make you laugh, make you cry, save you. There was something about having someone do those kinds of things with you that made you regret not knowing about it sooner.

However, thinking about it, if you had someone already there, would you have ever met the boys? They left you breathless because of how they looked at you. They didn’t make you feel like you were insufferable. It made you feel like you were on top of the world.

The problem in everything, though, lies in the fact that while you weren’t going to fall in a hole, the others were going to. What happens if in the end you could only choose one and the others are left to their devices? Were you really going to come in between them like that? You were being selfish.

“What happens when I do, though?” You sighed to yourself. “Someone is gonna get hurt either way.”

“Why would they get hurt?”

“Because it's not normal-”

“Nobody will be normal, so long as one other person will think of you weird.” San frowned. “I still haven't found normal and honestly I wouldn't want to.” A soft smile crossed his features.

“That would mean finding what everyone else thinks I should and should not be doing. I love what I do. And the others make it all the more better.” San turned to you. “Darling, no matter what you want in the end, we'll respect it. We'll respect you. Nobody is rushing you to find out what you want.”

You could remember Mingi had said just about the same thing. It made you wonder if they truly knew what it was you were talking about. You weren’t being completely honest and talked around the real problem. But it seemed like they knew you more than you thought.

“Thank you, San.” You smiled, taking in his features.

“You're welcome.” His eyes closed as his lips pulled into a smile.

“Sweetheart, you're staying here?!” You and San turn to the entrance of the tent, watching Wooyoung pronounce into the space. “You look so adorable!” He cooed, eyes drifting over your body in San’s clothing.

“The others have gotten you for far too long and I want to stay with you.” He made himself comfortable on the bedroll, pulling you down to lay next to him. “Sannie, come lay down with us.” He spoke up, calling for his friend.

You started to giggle as Wooyoung’s hands tickled you lightly, squirming away from his touch. San chuckled, scooting himself closer to both of you. “Coming, Woo.”

San and Wooyoung whispered to each other as you laid between them. They both seemed to be bickering, which caused laughs to quietly fall from your lips. They were like a married couple. Wooyoung would say something and San would try to agree no matter how stupid the boy sounded. It left a smile on your face as you drifted off to dreamland in their arms.

You were baffled, though. There was so much you were missing in the picture–so much you didn’t know about them–that it made you worried about how much you cared about them. It was important to know the person you wanted to be with, even if in this time it wasn’t common. You knew that at one point you would need to separate yourself from them for fear of tearing them apart.

But you wanted to be selfish just a bit more.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki, @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @stvrfir3 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry ,

#kpop fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #ateez seonghwa #fanfiction #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x you

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 2 months

Note

Hello, hope you’re doing well! Really loving the Hazbin posts you’ve done so far, they’re wonderful ☺️

If it’s alright, could I please request some platonic HCs with Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious for a slightly younger reader than the rest of the cast who’s on the shy and anxious side, very easily rattled in hell, but takes a liking to their fellow demon(s) enough that they feel comfortable around them to express themselves a bit more and start to develop a sibling/parental sort of bond with them?

Sorry if that’s a bit specific of a request, but thank you for reading!

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long Anon but I absolutely loved your ask! Shy!Reader is so me tbh. Hope you enjoy it.

𖤓Charlie

• She's mostly concerned about how young you are, not that you're a teenager or something, but the age you died is concerning since you're younger than anyone at the hotel.

• She's an extrovert so she might not notice how shy you are at first because she's just so excited to have you around that she is already showing all of her hotel to you and wishing you a good stay.

• Even with that bubbly personality of her's, it's actually pretty easy for you to feel comfortable enough around her to express your feelings, she's just so sweet like that. You feel like you can tell her all of your problems that she would listen to carefully within a day of meeting her.

• She's the type to be a sister figure, she's always trying to make you open up more with weekly trust exercises and besides her looks wouldn't hesitate to put a demon in their place if they treat you badly. She considers everyone at the hotel family, but you're the one that needs most protection out of them, so she's going to be the best host you could ask for.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's the least chaotic of the people in the hotel, she likes to solve things calmly and sometimes with brute force but only when it's necessary. Your more timid demeanor is a breath of fresh air from all these sinners full of themselves.

• She's the one that gets more rational the moment she sees you're not dealing very well with the things around, she gives you space and time to be comfortable around the place, especially because she feels that you really want to change for the better. She also calms Charlie down when she's being too excited around you.

• She wants to help you be more sturdy tho, Hell is a dangerous place and you need to fight for yourself, so she gives you private fighting lessons on basic self defense, she can get a little too aggressive while training but if you actually get hurt she'll say sorry and help take care of you.

• The way she makes you feel welcomed is very different from the others, she makes you feel safe, she protects you from Angels comments and teaches you how to stand up, she's just like an older sister that wouldn't hesitate to kill for you and has a strong sense of bonding.

𖤓Angel

• He finds you almost adorable, he probably just enjoys having someone that kinda looks up to him as an example, you almost envy his personality and how easy-going he seems to be, he enjoys the attention and praise.

• Will eventually grown attached to having you around but he's very good a not showing it, he's an actor for a reason after all, but he can still be very sweet with you and sometimes even protective, not so much, but he'll tell a demon to suck a dick if they are mean to you.

• He helps you try and lose up more, be more extroverted, he takes you to drink on bars or go to clubs so you can try to make more friends. He can easily get distracted if Cherri is also there and might not notice if you get uncomfortable at first, but don't be afraid to tell him that you want to leave, he won't be mad at you and will do as you ask.

• He really makes you feel like you belong, especially when you two are just doing skin-care and telling gossips, he feels like a older brother and you appreciate how much he takes care of you.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Daddy issues? Naahh, this man got child issues if that's even a thing. He craves for the feeling of having a child like it's something he misses deeply without even knowing why, so the moment he realizes that you, the shy one of the crew is looking up to him he's being all clingy with you.

• He tries to look cool, something that either he fails at or his Egg Bois do it for him, he wants to make up to your expectations towards him because you're one of the little people who treat him nicely. You mainly admire him because besides being a little timid like you, he's a very intelligent inventor.

• He makes you gadgets for your self defense and makes sure one of his Egg Bois is always following you to keep you safe, they can't do much but are very useful as bait so you can run while they get attacked.

• Expect a bunch of drama and dad jokes coming from him, that's his way of trying to sound cool and reliable to you, he wants to be a good father figure or whatever figure you need and that's what makes you feel so welcomed and cared for when you're around him. Make sure to give him a hug everytime he does nice things to you, he appreciates it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #angel dust x reader #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #hazbin charlie #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel imagine

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emberfrostlovesloki · 5 months

Text

Lighthouse [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@happyheidi) Center (@agentdilfhotchner) Right (@theindividualchef)

Prompt: Hotch notices some distressing signs from the reader when he bumps into them at the grocery store. He doesn’t say anything, but something tells him that the reader isn’t well. He goes to their job and finds them just in time. Aka, when Aaron and the Non-BAU!reader get a chance to heal together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: hurt/angst/comfort

Word Count: 8.9K

Content Warnings: Grief and loss, single fatherhood [Aaron], depression [Hotch and Reader], brief mention of kidnappings [unsub], domestic violence (fights, implied beating, yelling, chocking, kicking hitting, degrading comments (reader)], hospitals, broken bones. If I missed any please let me know.

A/N: Good evening, loves! He’s the first Aaron fic of 2024! It’s a bit dark but I tried to handle the subject matter with care. This idea came from @imagining-in-the-margins's amazing January/February Challenge Prompt list: “Character escapes an abusive relationship and the recovery is harder than they thought.” Given that Aaron went through abuse himself and has healed from many things, I wanted to think about how he would try and help someone else going through it too. I just love it when Hotch gets protective and puts someone in their place. I really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it. If you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re all having a good week! Love Levi - ❤️

P.S. If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence or any kind of abuse, there are resources out there. Please speak to a loved one or trusted individual. If you need help you can contact The National Dometic Hotline at: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or you can visit their website for resources. Please be safe.

List wil all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/p_ = your partners

_y/p/n_ = your partner’s name (as the partner is a real jerk, put some terrible person’s name here)

_y/s/hw_ = your style of handwriting (cursive, loopy, blocky, etc.)

_y/d/a_ = your dominant arm

_y/e/p_ = your ex-partner

Hotch was walking down the pharmacy aisle of the grocery store. He was looking for the children’s nausea medicine. He’d been looking for twenty minutes. Aaron wondered if they kept it in some other part of the store. Jack’s tummy ache still hadn’t gone away since the night before, and he considered if he should take Jack to his pediatrician. The issue was, that it was Saturday and the doctor's office was closed. Aaron knew he could be paranoid and that Jack probably just had a stomach bug, but he worried. He always worried about his son. Since Haley’s passing, Jack took up a majority of his free time and all of his thoughts when he wasn’t on a case. Adjusting to the grief and loneliness had been hard. Harder than he’d ever imagined, but time, as the saying went, heals all wounds. Even those unseen. Emotional wounds that needed sutures and tender care long after they’d healed. It wasn’t perfect or easy juggling being a single dad and work. It had taken a long time to figure out. But he’d leaned on people, and after a while, he started to feel like a version of himself again. One that still mourned the loss, and regretted his choices, but he was getting better. Jack was too. Except, this Friday Jack went to a party at a friend's house and caught some illness that was going around. Aaron was so busy trying to find the medicine that he didn’t see that he was about to bump into someone. When the two collided, _y/n_ flinched, but composed herself quickly. So quickly that the familiar man didn’t notice it. They both said in unison, “Sorry.” Aaron straightened and _y/n_ got off of her toes. The pair looked at each other and after a beat, realized they knew each other, at least a little bit. It took a moment for _y/n_ to say, “Oh, cold brew with a shot of espresso on the side. Aaron, right?” For _y/n_, most people she interacted with were associated with some sort of coffee or tea order. _y/n_ was surprised with herself that she’d remembered the tall man’s name. She’d never seen him dressed so casually before. He was just wearing jeans and a dark green t-shirt that accentuated the muscles of his toned torso. In the mornings at six a.m., that man that she thought was called Aaron, only wore a suit and tie. The kind that was tailored just for his tall frame. The expensive material didn’t reveal as much as this outfit did. Even so, he was very attractive. Often, seeing him at the counter was the highlight of _y/n_’s morning. _y/n_ knew that sounded pathetic, but hell the guy actually smiled at her before the sun was up, and he always tipped. Being a barista wasn’t the most exciting job, but at least _y/n_ got to see him on and off during the work week.

Aaron was desperately wracking his brains for the name of the woman who had memorized not only his coffee order but his name as well. Why couldn’t he remember it? Aaron could picture her name tag with the gold lettering embossed on the enamel pin, but the name was out of focus. Admitting defeat, he replied, “That’s me. And you are?” _y/n_ looked at Aaron and replied, “_y/n_, _l/n_.” She wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t remember her name. No one remembered her name. _y/p_ wouldn’t let her get close enough to anyone to need to remember her at all. _y/n_ told herself internally, “I’m used to it. It doesn’t hurt if you don’t care.” As much as _y/n_ wanted to believe that lie, she was hurting. Her body ached under her dark long-sleeved shirt. She hadn’t meant to make a snarky quip back at _y/p_ last night, but the remark had come unbridled, and she’d paid for it dearly. _y/n_ snapped back to the present as her most irregular, regular customer asked, “Were you trying to reach something on that top shelf? Can I grab it for you, _y/n_?” Something about the way he said her name, had _y/n_ look at him like she’d never seen Aaron before. Like she’d never seen a man before. Not one that oozed confidence even when he was just standing in a grocery store aisle. _y/n_ knew that _y/p_ would never live up to that standard, as hard as they tried, and as long as they lived. _y/n_ flinched at the very idea of the thought. The things _y/p_ would do to her if she ever thought or dared speak something like that in their partner’s presence. Aaron noticed the reflexive jerk of _y/n_’s body like she’d been hit by an invisible hand. He furrowed his brow and took a small step back. “_y/n_, are you alright?” Aaron knew that look and understood the flinching away from things. He’d done enough of it in his childhood. Suddenly, he was concerned about the woman that he saw when he was on his early morning caffeine runs. Hotch felt ashamed that he’d never paid _y/n_ much attention. However, he was paying attention now, as _y/n_ fixed her face back to normal. Back to a friendly smile that hid any physical or mental pain she might be in. _y/n_ didn’t notice Aaron profile her. Instead, she cleared her throat and said, “Yeah, um, could you grab three of those instant ice packs? The cheapest brand on the left?” Hotch nodded and didn’t even need to reach very high to grab the aforementioned items _y/n_ had requested. _y/n_ held out her basket, and he dropped them into the container. Aaron noticed but didn’t comment on the odd assortment of painkillers, gauze packs, and a single pregnancy test on the far right side of the basket. Aaron moved his eyes up quickly to not look like he was prying into her personal life. Sometimes being a profiler had its downsides, and situations where he could see things that didn’t look good were one of them. It’s not like he could just say, “Hey, _y/n_, why do you need those ice packs,” or “Hey. _y/n_ if you lifted your shirt sleeves what would I see?” He wasn’t a mandatory reporter. He wasn’t a professor, or a nurse, or a school counselor. He just had a brain that let him see things that others didn’t. Things that people like _y/n_ probably didn’t want him to see. Then again, he could be reading into the woman’s grocery choices a bit too much. He didn’t know her, at least not more than her name, and she worked at his favorite coffee shop that was closest to the Quanitco Field Office. He liked it because, on a good morning, it took him less than ten minutes to get from the coffee shop to work.

_y/n_ looked at cold-brew-and-a-shot-of-espresso. He seemed to have gone somewhere else in his brain. She didn’t plan on standing there forever, and had to say, “Well thanks, Aaron. I’ll see you…” she hesitated and finished the sentence with, “...when I see you.” _y/n_ gave the man a little wave and walked toward the self-checkout. Hotch replied, “See you Monday, _y/n_.” It was an odd interaction, to say the least. Aaron realized he’d said, “See you Monday” like a man who worked in a bank, or finance, or some mundane job that let him keep a regular schedule, when he had the opposite of that job. He could be called into the office that moment, and he’d go because that’s what he’d signed up for. Aaron’s phone buzzing made him fish it out of his back pocket and lose his current train of thought. The text was from Jess asking if he was headed back yet. He quickly replied, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just picking up the medicine now.” Hotch put his phone away and scanned the kid's medicine section once more. At the end of the row, he found what he was looking for. The child-friendly gummies, he hoped, would allow Jack to relax. Aaron and his son had stayed up most of the night as Jack threw up once an hour or so. Hotch felt the tiredness of the night, and his concern for Jack deep down. Those thoughts had him forget, at the moment, the worry he had for _y/n_. As Aaron was texting and recounting last night, _y/n_ was quickly scanning her items and placing them in a _y/f/c_ reusable bag. Once the receipt was spat out of the machine, she took it, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash by the front door. If there was one thing _y/n_ was grateful for, it was the self-checkout. There wasn’t anyone there to judge you on what you bought, unless it was alcohol, and it was quiet and quick. She saw no one, and no one saw her. Except, today had been different because she had been seen. That was a rarity. Even if it had only been a minute-long conversation with Aaron. He was a customer who was gone for days in a row with no apparent rhyme or reason, yet always came back. Always at six, and always in a suit. He was part of the group that she called, before the morning rush. That’s probably why she remembered him so well. He was distinct and unique and by far the hottest guy who graced the crowd from six a.m. to seven a.m. After seven the people came like a mob and names, orders, and faces all blurred together until the mid-afternoon lull. As _y/n_ sat in her car thinking, she realized that she didn’t have time to daydream. Especially not about a guy. She looked at the clock in her car and realized that she’d spent more time in her thoughts than she’d anticipated. “Shit” _y/n_ muttered to herself, realizing that if she drove fast, she’d have just enough time to ice the worst of her bruises and discard the ice packs in the dumpster outside her apartment before _y/p_ came home from work to notice them. Given the time crunch, _y/n_ started the engine and whisked her car out of the parking lot as safely, and quickly as she could manage. Any thoughts of Aaron were temporarily replaced with thoughts of getting to ease the aches in her body for a few minutes before another fight inevitably broke out when _y/p_ got home from work.

As it turned out, Hotch didn’t show up to the coffee shop on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, and on Thursday it was another no show, _y/n_ really started wondering what the man did for work. She first thought was a lawyer. He looked the part with his clothes and his stern expression. There were plenty of law offices around the coffee shop, but she never saw him go into any of those buildings after he’d picked up his order from the counter. After he’d told her, “Have a good day,” and then walked out the door with long confidant strides while the bell rang. She considered the possibility of banking or finance, but from what _y/n_ knew, both of those jobs must require consistent hours in an office somewhere. But cold-brew-and-a-shot-of-espresso didn’t seem to keep any type of schedule, and he didn’t seem to be the type that worked in an office. Plus, all the bankers and finance bros she served every morning seemed glum and depressed. Aaron was intense, but he didn’t seem depressed. At least not anymore. The first time he’d come into the coffee shop she’d noticed him because he was new and it was early. He was the first customer of the day, and _y/n_ hadn’t even pulled the cold brew mix out of the fridge when he ordered one to go. As she’d explained that It would be a few minutes, and the tall man just nodded and said, “It’s fine. I can wait.” The man’s low voice sounded deeply sad. Like he was already dead and buried. It made _y/n_ look at him fully. He had a handsome face, all jaw, and dark hooded eyes. He looked like he sounded, far away. Internally _y/n_ wondered, “Is he going through something? Has this dude slept in the last month?” Both looked true from his slightly disheveled appearance and deep bags under his eyes. At this point, _y/n_ was happily in love with a person that she’d never guessed would lay a finger on her. A person who didn’t raise their voice, threaten them, cheat, or humiliate her in public. No. she was newly in love and everything was perfect. In fact, her partner had just agreed to move in with her last night. But the man in front of her, who’d said his name was Aaron, didn’t look any like she felt. _y/n_ wanted to ask him if he was okay, but it didn’t feel right. He was just a new customer and by now a small queue was forming behind him. So instead, she’d pulled a shot of espresso for him while he waited for his cold brew.

When Aaron heard his name, he walked over to the counter. Unless he was very behind on the coffee scene he didn’t think the small cup he was being handed was his. _y/n_ saw the look of confusion on his face, and she quickly explained, “Pulled you a shot on the house for making you wait. Hope it will tide you over.” Hotch left something in him that could be gratitude, and he murmured, “Thanks,” as he stepped back with the cup in his hands. It was the kindest thing _y/n_ could think to do for him while she took the next few orders and then started getting out the drinks including Aaron’s. Hotch had found the coffee spot because he had driven past it countless times since living in D.C. and commuting to Virginia. It had caught his eye early on because it seemed to be the only coffee place open that early. It had finally drawn him in when he wasn’t sure if he could live past the grief of losing Haley. Jack kept him going and that was enough, but he could admit he was struggling. He’d decided that doing something different, anything different, might do something for him. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing what he had been doing for the last two months. Even though he wasn’t much of an espresso person, he drank the free shot because it was nice of the barista to give it to him. Shortly after, he was given his cold brew, and he drove toward the office like he normally did. Not much changed for him in the day, except the addition of a lot of caffeine made his body feel like he was buzzing until noon. The sensation wasn’t unwelcome, at least it gave him something else to think about apart from loss. Aaron came back the next day and, just because, _y/n_ gave him another free shot of espresso. After a while, he started paying for the espresso, and as the months passed, he seemed to get better and _y/n_’s life got worse and worse and worse. _y/p_ had shown his full colors, and Aaron had worked on healing while _y/n_ began hurting. Their paths seemed to be like those of ships in the night. Their lights were never bright enough for the other to fully notice. That was until Friday.

Aaron had come back from a case in Arizona. It wasn’t the worst, It had been a stalker who kidnapped women who looked like the unsub’s mother due to abandonment issues. When the victims didn’t agree to play the part, the unsub wanted, they were replaced. Aaron moved into Dusk til Dawn like he always did. The bell rang as the door opened and he stood in the short line to get to the counter. He had almost forgotten about his interaction with _y/n_ at the store a little over a week ago. Jack had quickly recovered and then the case came, and time just went on like it always did, but as he caught _y/n_’s eye, he remembered. Not only did he remember her name now, but he remembered what he’d suspected she might be going through. When he got to the counter, she asked, “The usual?” Aaron nodded as he pulled out his card. He looked over at _y/n’s hands as she wrote his name on the two cups in _y/s/hw_. He noticed the slight bruising and scratches on her knuckles. The signs that something might have happened to her were minimal, but he caught them. Aaron was about to comment something, but as he put his card back in his wallet, _y/n_’s demeanor changed in an instant. The small smile and wide eyes she gave him whenever he came in disappeared. Hotch could almost feel the person behind him shuffle on heavy feet. Hotch stopped himself from looking behind him where _y/n_’s eyes were trained. _y/n_ barely murmured, “You’re order will be out in a second.” Aaron stepped a few feet back and listened from a spot far enough away that it didn’t seem like he was snooping, but also close enough to be able to listen in on the conversation happening at the counter. He crossed his hands over his chest. He could feel the slick material of his grey suit under his arms. He heard the person in front of the register say, “Hey. Good morning, sweetheart.” Hotch looked at _y/n_’s face. It was half reverence, half fear as she replied, “Morning. What are you doing here, _y/p/n_?” In a voice laced with love but a hint of bile _y/p_ said, “Can’t a person see their girlfriend in the morning? Plus I’m in desperate need of a coffee. Make it half soy, half oat milk latte with frothed milk, vanilla, and two pumps of sugar-free syrup. And a shot on the side.” _y/n_’s partner sounded more like an order than a command. Like shouting at a caged dog. _y/n_ knew why he needed coffee. He’d broken her carafe last night throwing it at her head. He’d accused her of cheating again because a friend from high school had checked in on her.

_y/n_ temporarily forgot all the other orders before _y/p_’s, and with a hurried, jerky movements. tried to make _y/p_’s order. If _y/p_ ever showed up to work, it meant she’d fucked up big time. Done something so big or bad that they had to come and see her before their work started, just to let her know that she was going to get it later. It was a promise. What she’d gone wrong since last night’s accusation and makeup session, _y/n_ wasn’t sure, but there was always something. y/n_ wasn’t paying attention to anything, and as she tried to steam the milk, she accidentally burned herself on the steamer. After a second, the pain circuits in her brain fired and she felt the burn, dropping the metal container holding the hot milk. The metal made a clanking sound on the floor, and a few patrons looked over at her. _y/n_ dipped behind the counter before anyone could notice the soft sob that left her. It was a cry of pain and fear. _y/n_ took the towel from her apron and wiped the floor first. She then fixed her face, got up, placed the dirty metal container in the sink, and remade the drink and espresso shot. It took her about twice as long as normal, but her hand was letting out red hot pulses every second or so. She wasn’t in the right head space to be making drinks at the moment. When the coffees were done, she moved back to the checkout where _y/p_ had firmly planted themself. In a sickeningly patronizing tone, they said, “Now that wasn’t that hard, was it _y/n_? God you always were a clutz. Anyhow, see you tonight, love.” _y/n_ raised a hand and said, “Tonight,” with a forced smile. Aaron watched as _y/p_ took one tiny swipe of her hand to rub under her eyes. The tears were too faint for him to see. _y/n_ then moved back to the cups that had piled up behind who Aaron assumed was her partner. A person who had just spoken to her in such a condescending and humiliating manner. _y/n_’s odd assortment of things at the store, the marks on her hands, and now this interaction only highlighted what Hotch assumptioned about _y/n_. When she eventually called his name for pick up, he approached the counter with care. Aaron grabbed his two cups and after _y/n_ said her normal, “Have a good day,” in a tight tone, he couldn’t help himself but say, “_y/n_ can I see your hand?” _y/n_ froze. She looked over at Aaron and pulled her injured hand to her chest with the other. Softly she replied, “It really doesn’t hurt.” Hotch could still see some of the red skin that looked painful. In the kindest tone he had, Aaron said, “It doesn’t look good, _y/n_. Do you have a first aid kit around here somewhere?” Hotch scanned behind the counter to see if there was a red box holding medical supplies nearby. _y/n_ hadn’t expected anyone to notice her hand. She especially didn’t expect it from Aaron. Without really thinking, she said, “There’s one in the staff room.” “Would you grab it for me?” Aaron asked. Much like the first time _y/n_ met Aaron, the tone of his voice had her look at him. The dark-eyed man looked concerned. It didn’t make sense. Neither did his tone. It came off as a caring suggestion. Something she hadn’t heard in a long time. _y/n_ was used to apathetic orders from her boss, Lisa, and _y/p_ disappointment in her everything. But care? She hadn’t heard or felt it in years. Aaron’s comment alone had her disoriented. To catch a moment to get back into balance, _y/n_ moved to the back room and took the first aid kit out of the cabinet. _y/n_ swallowed back whatever emotions were trying to force their way out before she stepped back into the main room.

_y/n_ set the red box on the counter. Aaron held out his hand for her hurt one, and to his surprise, she placed it in his large palm. After a moment of looking at the burn. It didn’t seem too bad, maybe a grade-two burn at worst. After his assessment, Hotch said, “You should run that under a cool tap for a minute. I’ll see if there’s some gauze in here to cover it up. As Hotch heard the water run and rifled through the first aid kit. He pulled out a large bandband-aid a generic antiseptic cream. _y/n_ returned in a moment, drying her hands. _y/n_ didn’t know how to react to this kindness and said, “Sorry I don’t mean to hold you up. You’re always so punctual. You’ve got to be late to wherever you go at this point.” She was giving him a way out. She was giving herself a way out because _y/n_ wasn’t sure how to be in this situation. How she would feel about Aaron if he helped her. Aaron looked at her. He saw the hesitation on her face and replied, “I won’t be late, and I’ll be quick here, I promise.” Aaron sensed that _y/n_ wanted this over with as soon as possible. It didn’t give him much time to think of something to check in with her. Hotch couldn’t delay and he didn’t want to make _y/n_ more uncomfortable, so he took _y/n_’s hand back into his. He squeezed a small dot of the cream on his finger and dabbed it onto her burn. _y/n_ flinched as he touched her more deliberately. Hotch finished that part swiftly and tore open the band-aid gently pressing it over the burn, securing it on her hand. He softly dropped her hand and closed the medical kit saying, “Good as new.” Aaron recognized that he was using the tone that he did with Jack when he came home from a play date with a scrape or bruise. _y/n_ took the kit off the counter and said, “Thanks for the help.” She sounded reserved and Hotch nodded, saying, “It was nothing. Have a good day, _y/n_.” With that, Hotch took his drinks again and moved out of the shop with a weight on his shoulders. _y/n_ watched him go and wished she could have a good day, but the threat of _y/p_ hung over her. _y/n_ also wished and tried to get Aaron’s concerned face and kind words out of her head, but she wasn’t very successful at that either.

Rossi noticed how perplexed Aaron seemed as he entered the building and moved up toward his office. The older profiler also clocked the two cups of coffee Hotch was precariously holding in one hand. Dave, who was at the railing at the top of the stairs asked Hotch as he got to the top, “You turning into Reid or something?” Aaron scoffed and replied, “I hope not. I’m too old from that kind of energy.” Rossi gave a half-smile before saying, “Well today it looks like you picked up more than a caffeine addiction.” Hotch didn’t understand and asked, “What do you mean?” Dave followed his friend to his office and said, “You look like you’re worried about something. Is Jack alright?” Hotch’s deep sigh told Rossi that he was correct. Something had happened. Aaron looked over at him with knowing eyes. Eyes that had seen too much pain and loss for one man. Hotch swallowed his sip of coffee before saying, “I just saw someone getting torn down. Put in a place I don’t think they deserve, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I’m the Chief of the BAU, one of the most revered branches in the FBI, and I see someone get hurt and I don’t know what to do about it.” Rossi leaned his arms on the desk chair opposite Aaron’s and slowly replied, “Aaron, you can’t save everyone from a bad situation.” Hotch bit the inside of his lip and replied, “But I want to. Am I losing my humanity?” Aaron often wondered after the death of Haley what he was becoming. He hoped it wasn’t something bad. Someone who didn’t care. Rossi watched this struggle and uncertainty play out on Hotch’s face and said, “I think this job can warp the way people working it see things. Pardon this reductionist analysis, but we go out and see countless victims and there’s a big bad to get and hold accountable. The scope of the evil we see is like a tsunami, and when we see a wave we don’t always know what to do. But a wave can still drown someone. That person’s no less deserving of a life jacket.” Rossi knew that he was making it sound like Aaron didn’t want to help whoever he was talking about, and knowing Aaron that was never the case. But Rossi wanted to provide some perspective before delving further into the conversation. Dave then said, “But Aaron, Not everyone knows they're drowning either. Maybe they don’t know to ask for a life jacket.” Dave was taking a guess here. He knew Hotch well enough that if this was a person Aaron knew well or personally, he would have done something already. So most likely this was a stranger or acquaintance that he’d encountered struggling, and Hotch, being the man he was, couldn't bear to see it happen. Rossi didn’t want to press Aaron. He wasn’t the type to go into detail, so Dave just stepped forward, patted him on the shoulder, and, said, “You’re a good man, Aaron, no matter what you believe, you’re a good man.” With that Rossi stood and walked to the door to let his friend decide what to do after that. And just to lighten the mood, Dave said at the door, “Don’t drink all that coffee at once. You’ll put yourself into cardiac arrest.”

Once Rossi was gone, Aaron moved behind his desk and sat down. He pulled out his briefcase and set to work on a floor-wide memo about a new policy on overtime. As he worked, he let Dave’s words churn in his head. By lunch, he’d decided that he’d go back to the coffee shop after work. No one had been a lifeline for him in his childhood and he wasn’t going to let it happen to someone else. Yes, he was aware that abuse happened all the time, all over the place and he couldn’t stop all of it. But he could let _y/n_ know that there were places she could go, and resources to her to get out. Something like that would have changed his life, and as it would turn out, Aaron’s willingness to step into a sensitive situation would save _y/n_’s.

Hotch moved back to Dawn til Dusk after work. Thankfully a case hadn’t pulled the team away. It was just after five thirty and the shop would close in a half hour. He’d never been there in the afternoon. The place took on a more subdued quality. There wasn’t the anxiety, the day was all ahead of me energy that the early morning held. As Aaron stepped inside, there was no one to greet him. Not _y/n_ with her smile that he’d grown used to when he stepped in the door or any customers either. For a second Aaron realized that he might be very silly because maybe _y/n_ didn’t work the afternoon shift and when someone came to out of the backroom or storage room, it would be a total stranger. Aaron assumed that whoever was still in the shop would come out of the staff room because the door stood ajar. He couldn’t see into the room, from where he was standing, but a loud thump had him snap his head to the side quickly. The sound hadn’t come from inside the room, but somewhere just beyond it. The same sound came again, and whatever it was, Aaron didn’t like it. Hotch moved to the side enough to see through the open door which led to another door with a window that looked out onto the alley behind the coffee shop. At first, it just looked like a small corridor that ran out to the street beyond the far side of the building. It seemed quiet until a body was pushed harshly to the ground and into Aaron’s view. Hotch realized that it was _y/n_ from her outfit from that morning. In a split second, Hotch was running through the backroom and out the door as the person who had stood behind him this morning came into view and began viciously kicking _y/n_ in the side.

_y/n_ curled into a ball on the pavement, choking for air. When _y/p_ came back again on the same day and said they needed to talk, she tried to swallow any fear she had. _y/n_ said they could talk in the back room, but _y/p_ insisted they go outside. That had been her fatal flaw. She didn’t know how to say no to them anymore and even though she was still on the clock, she’d let him into the small space behind the shop. Once the door was closed, _y/p_ had pounced. They pinned _y/n_ against the wall, choking her with such force that she couldn’t get a word out. When _y/n_ was sure she’d pass out from the lack of oxygen, _y/p_ threw her to the ground so hard she felt stunned. When _y/n_ had come to her senses, she tried to crawl away from the pain in her body and the threat of passing out. She still hadn’t fully regained her breath and the sides of her vision blurred at the edges. _y/p_ didn’t let _y/n_ crawl more than a few paces before grabbing her shirt and dragging her toward the dumpster on the opposite wall of the alley. _y/n_ groaned as the pain tore up her body. _y/n_ could feel her shirt riding up due to the rough surface of the concrete. _y/p_ tried for the first time to fight back. To get away, but _y/p_ pushed _y/n_ up to the edge of the dumpster and kicked her in the groin. They crouched down while _y/n_ covered her face and neck. _y/n_ said, “Did you think you could get on birth control and I wouldn’t know. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” _y/n_ shook her head and attempted to explain, but _y/n_ stopped trying when she gasped in pain. _y/n_ had pinner _y/d/a_ under a thick steel boot. The sickening crack that came shortly after had _y/n_ turn to the side and vomit in pain. When she looked up at _y/p_’s face, she knew this was how it was going to end. For some fucking pills. _y/p_ moved in again, pressing their hands to _y/n_ neck, cutting off the air she needed; _y/n_ spluttered fighting for life.However, the pressure was suddenly gone from her arm, neck, and everywhere else. Nothing was making much sense in _y/n_’s pounding head. She could only focus on trying to breathe.

It took Aaron five long strides to get outside and reach _y/n_ and her assailant. Hotch grabbed _y/p_ around the middle and pulled them off _y/n_. Hotch rolled with the person who trashed and screamed, “Let GO OF ME. Get off me.” Hotch grunted and tried to hold the person still. He found it ironic that _y/n_ was so against being manhandled with what he’d just done to _y/n_. From the anger, the person beneath Hotch showed, Aaron assumed it wasn’t the first time it had been this bad. Rage like that just didn’t start from nowhere, It grew and grew until it became uncontrollable. Aaron knew monsters were bred not born. Hotch caught his breath and said, “Stay still for your own sake. Move and I’ll knock your light out.” _y/p_ spat and said, It’s none of your business.” Aaron tightened his hold and said, “As a federal agent when I see someone get assaulted it suddenly is my business.” _y/n_ stilled for a second but then tried to use all their strength to shove Aaron away. Hotch rocked back on his hip and _y/p_ swung at him. Aaron took the brunt of the blow in his sternum. As big as _y/n_’s partner was, the hit wasn’t strong. It hardly hurt. Hotch was done. He had no place of remorse for abusers and he, unlike the person struggling below him, aimed one solid punch at the dude’s face. Maybe _y/n_ wasn’t fully out, but they were stunned enough to slump back on the ground with a groan. Hotch let them go and moved over to _y/n_ who was coming back to herself. Aaron dropped down on his knees next to _y/n_. The lower half of her body was in a murky puddle at the foot of the dumpster and their upper body leaned against the refuse bin. Aaron didn’t notice as his favorite trousers got soaked in the same murky puddle. He pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. The operator answered asking, “9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?” Aaron cleared his throat and replied, “There’s been an attack on Maddison and Smith. Fourth block down from the stop sign. At the back of Dawn til Dusk. I need medical and police services.” Hotch heard the operator typing in the information before asking, “Are you or anyone in immediate danger? Are you the one that was attacked?” Hotch replied quickly, “No, it was someone else.” He took a second to see that _y/n_’s partner was still out of it and added, “There’s no immediate danger.” The woman on the other end of the line said, “Thank you for the information. Can you provide your name and phone number?” At this stage, Hotch was multitasking. He was carefully looking over _y/n_ who was starting to stir. He held a hand up to still her movements and turned his head toward the phone on the ground saying, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the number’s 982-289-7765.” After a second, the woman on the phone said, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner, please stay on the line, medical and police services are on their way.” Hotch nodded minutely and when he looked back at _y/n_, she was staring at him with wide eyes. She had registered who he was now and heard his conversation in the back part of her head that wasn't screaming in pain. _y/n_ whispered, “Where’s _y/n_?” The weak attempt at speaking had her cough harshly into her chest, and Aaron leaned closer saying, “Don’t worry about them, _y/n_. Just stay still and try and relax. If you can take small breaths, it might help.” _y/n_ nodded and tried to do as he said.

_y/n_ watched as Aaron pulled out another phone and called someone else. She thought she heard the name, Morgan somewhere and the name of the shop, but for a man of Aaron’s stature and power, he spoke with surprising softness. As she had seen Hotch take down _y/p_ there seemed to be an anger she hadn’t imagined she’d ever see from him. But now he just looked worried for her. Like he had looked worried at the store. His emotions had turned on a dime. She was used to that with _y/p_. But that was from a constant disappointment to a visceral rage. Aaron’s were different. His seemed to shift from anger to firm protection. _y/n_ didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t know what to make of her life anymore. She hadn’t expected to live a few minutes ago and now time stretched out before her like nothing she’d ever seen before. It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. _y/n_ couldn’t think about that though. Not now. Instead, she just did as the man beside her suggested, relax and breathe. That was managable at least. Hotch stayed by her, checking every minute or so to make sure _y/p_ stayed put. Aaron hadn’t even put fifty percent of his strength into his punch, but the slumped body on the ground didn’t move. At least until the police showed up five minutes later and hauled them into a cruiser. _y/n_ suddenly got their energy back and bellowed that they had been attacked by Aaron. _y/n_’s bloody face and broken arm plus Hotch’s badge and account of the story had the officers removed _y/p_ from the scene shortly after. The paramedics showed up at the same time as the officers and started to treat _y/n_. Hotch gave his side of things and tried to listen in on _y/n_’s conversation at the same time. The EMT finished his assessment and asked, “Is your vision blurred? How’s your breathing?” _y/n_ softly replied, “I can see okay. My neck hurts, but I can breathe okay. But my arm, it really, really hurts.” The EMT nodded and said, “It looks like it’s broken. My colleague is going to bring the stretcher around the building now. Once you’re in the ambulance we can get you some pain medication, okay?” _y/n_ nodded and the paramedic asked one last question, “Is there someone we can call for you? A family member or friend?” Hotch watched as _y/n_ shook her head no. She looked incredibly sad and lonely in the moment and it pulled at his insides so much they ached because he knew exactly what that felt like. To feel alone in the world. Hotch stepped forward and said, “I’ll stay with her. Which hospital are you taking her to?” The EMT stood and made room for the gurney along with Aaron. The man replied, “Grand Gen on 45th.” Hotch nodded and watched as _y/n_ got loaded onto the stretcher. As she was taken toward the ambulance Aaron walked beside her and said, “I’ll be at the hospital okay. If you need anything just ask for me, alright?” _y/n_ gave a small nod, thankful that anyone was going to be there for her.

Aaron spent the next few hours talking to the police and waiting in the hospital for an update. _y/n_ called him in before the doctor came to tell her what was wrong with her. _y/n_ even though she didn’t know the man who had saved her well, was the closest thing she had to a friend in town, and she didn’t want to be alone when she found out the extent of all what was wrong with her. Doctor James was compassionate as he detailed her minor concussion, broken arm, and deep bruises on her body. He detailed a care plan and her need for at least a week of rest. _y/n_ looked at the medical professional and asked, “Can I work after that?” James pursed his lips and replied, “I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ll need to come in for a check-up next week and we can talk about that then. But for now, I need you to rest.” _y/n_ mouthed okay, trying to think about how to tell Lisa that she wasn’t going to be at work for probably over a week. Lisa had fired much of the staff last year and was a chronic, didn’t show up to work even though she owned the coffee shop. _y/n_ had ended up picking up the slack. The doctor looked over _y/n_’s chart and wrote down the pain medications he was going to prescribe her. He looked up from the clipboard and said, “I’ll schedule your release for an hour. I just want to ensure you’re not confused or don’t have any reactions to the medications we gave you. There are some pretty strong ones and not everyone’s body takes to them well. It’s not safe for you to drive, so you’ll need to call someone to get you. Does anyone come to mind?” No one came to mind. If anything came up, she always called _y/p_, but she wouldn’t be doing that anymore. The realization seemed overwhelming. Everything in her life felt overwhelming right now. Hotch stepped forward and said gently, “I can take you home, _y/n_. If you’re comfortable with that. Or I can get you a cab?” _y/n_ looked over to him and said, “You’d do that?” Hotch nodded and reassuringly replied, “Yes. Of course.” Hearing someone so vulnerable sound so desperate only made Aaron want to look out for _y/n_ more. The doctor derailed that train of thought and said, “Well good. Can you go and speak to the charge nurse at the counter, just so we have your information?” Aaron nodded and moved out of the room. After he’d provided the details the hospital needed, he got a call from Morgan. Hotch answered, “Derek, what do you have?” Morgan replied, “I asked Garcia to look up the dude, they have a record as long as my arm. Assault and battery, resisting arrest, DUI’s. After this, I don’t think they’ll be bothering anyone for a while. It was still a bad situation. The cops told me about the details. How’d you know it was going to happen.” Aaron sighed and replied, “I didn’t really. I had my assumptions but it was just a gut feeling I guess.” Derek hummed and said, “Well it’s good you were there. Things could have gone differently.” That was true, but it didn’t stop Aaron from wishing he’d noticed earlier. After asking Morgan to have Rossi pick Jack up from school and watch after his son for a few hours, Aaron ended the call. Around fifty minutes later, _y/n_ was released and Aaron pulled his car up to the front of the hospital. A nurse helped her into the driver’s side of his car. It was an awkward ride as he asked her for her address and he plugged it into his phone. As Aaron drove there was a silence that neither knew how to fill.

_y/n_ didn’t know how to thank Aaron for saving her life when, up until that afternoon, he’d only been someone to make her mornings a little brighter. And Aaron didn’t know how to comfort a woman who had helped him heal in a small way many months ago. Finally, Aaron just said, “I’m sorry, _y/n_” while keeping his eyes on the road. _y/n_ looked over at him not understanding. She replied, “Why are you sorry, Aaron? You saved my life today, spent four hours in a hospital, and are using your car to take me home. You don’t even know me and you’re doing all of this” Hotch shifted his eyes to _y/n_ and back to the road as he said, “But I saw you. What was happening a few weeks back and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t ask if you needed help. It’s my job to help people. To keep them safe, and I didn’t do that.” _y/n_ pulled her bottom lip into her mouth for a second before responding. When she found out that Aaron was in the FBI while he was speaking to the police, things seemed to make more sense about him. But _y/n_ didn’t understand why he felt bad. She said, “Aaron, lots of people saw. You’re the first person to have ever done anything about it, and it saved my life. I won’t ever be able to pay you back for that, or the kindness you showed me every morning you come in.” _y/n_ stopped herself from saying that he’d given her something to live for. But seeing him slowly get happier had kept her going over the long months when things had gone from bad to worse. She knew that at least one person wasn’t suffering anymore. Hotch’s soft response of, “You don’t have to thank me, ever.” The conversation stopped there as they reached _y/n_’s apartment. Hotch pulled out his card and scribbled his number on the back saying, “Call or text me if you need anything.” _y/n_ nodded, took the card, and slowly walked to her door to enter an empty home.

_y/n_ hadn’t expected to need to call Aaron Hotchner. But she also hadn’t expected it to be so hard to be alone, to wake in cold sweats every morning. She didn’t think showering alone would be as hard even though showering with _y/e/p_ always ended in fights. _y/n_ knew she had to talk to someone, and the only someone she could think of had been Aaron. So she called him on a Thursday night and he’d picked up on the first ring with, “This is Hotchner.” _y/n_ wasn’t even sure what she was going to say, but finally choked out, “Umm, this is _y/n_, _l/n_, from last week.” There was a pause as Aaron’s synapses fired and he said, “Yes, _y/n_. Is something the matter? Do you need something?” The was a soft shuffling sound on _y/n_ side before she replied, “Kind of. Can we, talk sometime? If you have time?” Hotch blinked a few times before saying, “Sure. Do you want to talk now or later?” _y/n_ who half hadn’t expected Aaron to pick up and fully wasn’t sure what she even wanted to say, said, “Later. Maybe Saturday?” Hotch agreed and said, “Saturday works. I’ll have to bring my son. Would meeting at a park be okay? Jack, my boy could play and we’d have an hour to talk?” _y/n_ hadn’t known Hotch was a father. “Of course, you don’t idiot. You formally met him last week. Can you read minds now or something?” _y/n_ pinched the bridge of her nose and stifled a sigh at her thoughts. Instead, she said, “That works for me. Is there a time and a park that works for you?” They made their meeting plan, and when _y/n_ hung up, she felt oddly comforted that Aaron was a father. The role fit him in some way that she couldn’t fully understand yet.

That Saturday at Lincoln Grove Park, _y/n_ and Hotch leaned against the rail. _y/n_ looked at the flock of kids on the playground and asked, “Which one is your son?” Hotch smiled and pointed out Jack saying, “The one in the grey beanie and Power Rangers shirt.” _y/n_ spotted the little boy going down the slide and smiled saying, “He’s cute.” Aaron smiled and said, “As his father, I have to agree.” He took a breath and moved his gaze from his son to _y/n_. She looked at him as he asked, “What’s the matter, _y/n_? Are you okay?” Hotch realized that he could have, should have said those words to her when he’d helped her at the store, but it was too late for that now. All he could do was ask them in the present, and be there for whatever answer _y/n_ gave. _y/n_ had considered this question beforehand and replied, “After the first day I thought it was going to be easy. I thought I was going to be happy and want to do things and live life again.” _y/n_ hesitated and Aaron’s eyes softened. He’d seen and experienced enough trauma to know how hard that sudden kind of change was. You didn’t just go from sad to happy overnight, or scared to empowered either. He gave _y/n_ space to finish he thought, and after a moment she did, saying, “But when I wake up and the other side of the bed is empty, I panic. I wonder where _y/e/p_ is and how the fight is to be once it comes. And when I go to the store, I get the things they liked because I liked them too. _ye//p_’s still everywhere even though they’re sitting in a jail cell right now.” It all sounded pathetic to _y/n_ and she continued, “Am I an idiot for falling for someone like that? I really thought they loved me until they hurt me. And at that point, I loved them too much to see past it.” Feeling ashamed, _y/n_ put her head in her hands, not even sure why she was saying this stuff to Aaron. Hotch took a step forward and said her name, soft and melodically. _y/n_ raised her head and he could see the tears forming in her eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder and replied, “You’re not stupid, _y/n_. Some people are just good fakes. They let you see what you want until you think you know them. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. Good people don’t have to hide what they are.” Aaron took a pause and felt _y/n_ lean into his touch a bit. He wondered when the last time was that _y/n_ had been offered comfort without it coming at a price. Hotch chose his next words carefully, as he said, “I can’t speak for you _y/n_. But I’ve felt a lot of pain before. Some I didn’t think I was going to make it through. But in time, things got better for me. Small things changed first, and then bigger and bigger things. And finally, I felt like I could breathe again. Like I was a human deserving of love. I had to work for it, but it was worth it. I hope you can find that too, _y/n_. I’d be happy to be there for you if you want to try.” _y/n_’s tears were falling now, and she nodded her head yes. For the first time since she’d been free of _y/e/p_, she wanted to try.

As _y/n_ and Aaron stood at the edge of the playground, talking and finally getting to know each other after months of almost being friends, it seemed that perhaps they weren't destined to move past each other without ever knowing the other existed. Perhaps they had both been lighthouses on opposite shores trying to save strangers, but now their warm beams were fully on each other. Shining the way to safe passage. And when Aaron saw the hint of a real smile, not one masked by pain or fear on _y/n_’s face, he thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

______________________________________________________________

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luvring · 1 year

Text

ACCIDENTALLY MAKING THEM CRY

gn!reader | sugawara, atsumu warnings: reader gets angry + frustrated, swearing, a bit ooc. oops. don't think about it note: reminder to communicate w the people around u always + my reqs r open again ^___^ meow!

SUGAWARA

life’s been hard lately. your work’s piling up, and it’s stressing you out so you avoid it, landing you in a seemingly endless cycle of unproductive worry. it’s to the point that you’re getting more easily agitated, and you’ve been trying to avoid making anyone victim to your sour mood.

but suga’s taken notice—of course he has, considering he hasn't seen you in 6 hours. and he refuses to let it deter him from taking care of you, even after reading your text that says “i’m gonna be working so please don’t come in !! thank u.” he gets some of your favourite snacks along with some sliced fruit and water, and heads to your desk.

you tense up at the knock on your door, but take a deep breath before saying he can come in. “hey. i know you said you’d be working, but i thought i’d bring you some food at least.”

knowing he means well, you thank him quietly and expect him to leave after. but he lingers beside you. “you doing okay?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you answer quickly, already feeling that unwarranted annoyance you’ve been trying to stop. “you sure? i know you have a lot to do, and i don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

“yes, i’m fine, koshi.” you try to breathe and unclench your jaw. your boyfriend frowns and takes your response as exhaustion rather than annoyance, and tries again. “okay, just…know that it’s good to take breaks or ask for help, it'll be okay. i haven't seen you all day, you know?”

“can you stop?” your voice is cold enough to make him freeze, and something caves in his chest. “this isn’t—it isn’t okay.”

“okay, okay, hey, i'm sorry. i just,” he starts slowly, frowning. “i wanted you to know it’ll get better eventually.”

“okay, well, when you say that every time i’m upset it kind of loses its effect. i know it’s going to get better, but not right now with you here, so i’d appreciate it if you could just leave me alone,” you finally snap.

koshi stares at you in silence, breaking it after a few seconds to call your name as his voice wavers a little. "i know you didn't mean to talk to me like that."

"you don't know that." with your back still to him you repeat yourself with a huff, “seriously, koshi, just leave. you aren’t helping, i’m just…fucking annoyed. i don't want you here.”

“i...okay.” suga’s voice comes out softer than he intended, and he clears his throat. “okay, i’m sorry.” you glance over at the sound of him sniffling, and watch as he scratches the corner of his eye while making his way to the door. it twists something your gut, and an ugly, guilty feeling overwhelms you.

you sit with it, wishing it would swallow you whole. but after a few minutes pass you finally stand up to go find your boyfriend. it doesn’t take long—he’s sitting on the couch with a throw blanket, scrolling on his phone. suga looks up at the sound of your footsteps and quickly looks back down, but not before you see his teary eyes accompanied by a red nose.

“koshi?” he doesn't respond, but you know he's listening. “i’m…i’m sorry.” you want to continue, but wait for some kind of reaction. “that was mean of you,” he says plainly.

you frown. “i know, i'm sorry, i—” taking a breath, you step toward him. “i shouldn’t have lashed out at you. i’m sorry. i get angry when i’m stressed which is why i was trying to stay alone. i didn’t want to hurt you, and i did anyways when you were just trying to help.”

“and i’m not trying to make an excuse, i'm in the wrong. i know it’s a problem and i’m really, really trying to work on it, i promise. but i’m sorry i hurt you today. you didn't—you'd never deserve that."

you're met once again with silence, but don't let it bother you. you continue, "you don't have to accept my apology, of course, but i wanted you to know. and if you need time alone, i can go to the library for the day."

koshi turns off his phone (he hadn't even been scrolling while you spoke) and gets up slowly, finally looking at you. "thank you. i'm sorry, too, for what it's worth. and i accept your apology." he smiles genuinely this time, though it's small. "and i already know how you can make me feel better."

he looks at you with determination, and you're almost expecting him to ask for something embarrassing. but all he does is walk over and reach for you, pulling you into a gentle hug. "finally take a break with me?"

ATSUMU

whenever one of you is more busy than the other, it can be expected the busy person is atsumu. you face it with love—picking up on a couple of chores, messaging him throughout the day, getting his favourite foods for the evenings you have together.

so when it’s your turn to be busy, atsumu sees it as an opportunity to repay your love ten-fold.

and he manages it well for the most part! he does the laundry and cleans up around your desk. he even picks out some outfits for you to choose from tomorrow, writing a sticky note that says "i have good taste right?? don't forget the necklace!!!"

it’s when he’s faced with cooking one of your favourite meals—the one from your childhood he knows you haven’t had in ages—that he starts struggling. he texts his brother and opens a website on his phone, but at some point while he’s working on something else, the food on the stove starts to burn. enough to get the smoke alarm going—all right before you come home.

and coming home from a day full of inconveniences, shitty people, and stress, to a house that smells like smoke isn’t the welcome you expected or needed. your heartbeat quickens as you rush to the kitchen where you see your boyfriend frantically putting out a fire. “‘tsumu? what the hell?”

atsumu panics even more at your voice. and as he turns to face you, his arm hits his ingredients onto the floor. “fuck—hi, baby. sorry, i, uh—” “atsumu, jesus christ—”

working together, you both manage to take out the fire and turn off the alarm. the kitchen’s a wreck to witness at the end. all that’s left is standing in silence at the mess on the floor and counter.

you don’t know whether you want to cry or yell at the sight, completely overwhelmed by everything that’s been happening. “what were you doing?” you ask breathily. atsumu nervously laughs and hesitates, “i…uh, was trying to cook dinner for you.”

“well that really turned out well,” you say sarcastically. he winces both at your tone and the way your hands drag over your face. “why would you—are you—oh my god. seriously, atsumu, i can’t handle this right now.”

“i’m sorry, baby—” “we just put out a fire, atsumu!” your volume raises to a near-yell. “what if something happened and it spread, or you hurt yourself, or something worse? why weren’t you paying attention to the stove? and now we’ll have to clean this up and get new shit, and,” you stop to close your eyes and finally let yourself breathe. you mutter a curse and try to regain any semblance of composure.

but your eyes shoot open at the sound of a quiet sniffle beside you. there’s a beat of silence while you process it. you soften your voice to call him, “‘tsumu?”

atsumu sniffles again and blinks quickly, trying to force back the tears in his eyes. it doesn’t work, and your heart breaks when he pulls the sleeve of his sweater to wipe them away. “i just wanted to make your favourite to surprise you. i know you’ve been working hard lately, ‘nd i wanted to do what you always do for me and,” he laughs at himself self-deprecatingly, “i fucked up really bad this time, huh? i’m sorry. i’ll clean it all up. you should go rest.”

he moves quickly to start stacking up the bowls and utensils, but his movements feel heavy, and his hands seem to shake whenever he reaches for something near you. you stand and watch, and he says nothing.

“‘tsumu.” you reach for his hands to stop him, and he looks at you for the first time since you came in. “hey, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i was being mean.”

your boyfriend pouts at you, lips wavering, but he continues to say nothing, and you’re prompted to continue. “i had a bad day and i took it out on you. i was just…i was stressed and worried. i shouldn’t have yelled the way i did. i really appreciate you trying to cook for me, and taking care of things while i’m out. i know it isn't easy. i’m so sorry, ‘tsum,” you apologize again.

atsumu gets his hands out of your grasp so he can wipe his face one more time. you give him a minute to he offers you a smile. “it’s okay. thank you for, uh, apologizing. and i’m sorry i almost set our kitchen on fire, i knew i shoulda kept ‘samu on the phone.” you snort and he laughs, the sound lifting your mood exponentially.

you open your arms out for a hug which atsumu accepts happily, the both of you holding the other tightly. “we can always try again later together. i’m sure with the both of us we can handle one dish,” you promise.

your fingers run through his hair and he relaxes, nodding in agreement. his breath is warm against the crook of your neck when he asks, “d’you think we could just order takeout tonight, then?”

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