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titlemewickedwonderland · 2 years

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His Starlight Her Firefly (Chapter 6)

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Workshop

He breathed her in. The scent of her skin and the way her soft curves felt wrapped around him and pressed against him. For the briefest of moments, his mind did not wish to believe that this was the same little girl he had left two years prior. She had only been a girl who looked as if she was of two and ten years and now she looked and felt like a woman grown already. But Daemon knew to his very core this was his Astraea. His starlight. Even as he went to pull away and her arms tightened around his neck to keep him close he knew she was all the same spitfire and energy he had loved as a little girl growing up. She had grown up. And if he was any other man he would not have allowed a striking beauty like herself to cling to him as such while being a married man - But Daemon wasn't any normal man and he with his lady wife had not consummated nor touched each other since their ceremony.

A soft laugh vibrated through his chest as one of his arms rested along the slight curve of her waist and the other slipped into the silky strands of her tangled black locks at the back of her head to hold her closer for the briefest of moments; simply enjoying the fact that he was home and able to see her once more after two long years of silence - a fact he was seriously regretting as he held her, how much had he missed of her growing up because he chose to distance himself for the sake of sanity and focus? Despite Westeros not always feeling at home as the years grew he knew wherever this incredible woman stepped foot home would follow suit. This fact was made steadfastly true as he felt her nose nuzzle at the skin of his throat where it peaked from the color of his leather riding gear and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Ao emagon grown, dōna mēre. Skoriot iksos bona riñītsos nyke geptot inkot? " (Trans: "You have grown, sweet one. Where is that little girl I left behind?") he asked in the tongue of High Valaryion; deep and content as he allowed his cheek to rest against the top of Astraea's head.

"Hae ao vestragon drēje, ziry mazverdatan bē" (Trans: "As you say true, she grew up.") her reply came swift and easy as ever before she was suddenly pulling her face from his neck and glaring up at him with such fierceness he thought perhaps she would burn him alive with just her gaze alone like Caraxes's fire.

"Two years and not a single word from you! I wrote you letters upon letters for days and you didn't even reply to a single one! I thought you dead until I came across letters from you on Uncle's desk talking about the bloody war! You could write him but not me?!" she jabbed a finger into the leather of his chest plate still with that fierce glare upon her pretty face.

"I was so worried! I had to take the company of the dragons when Uncle was too busy for me. Do you understand how hard that was for me? When all my nights were filled with cold loneliness because you were not there to keep me company in the late hour by the fireplace. Or when you'd read to me before bed the histories of the dragons. Or how you'd sneak me into the kitchen at night for some sweet cakes that cook left over from supper. Do you know how hard it was for me when I had to go riding horseback with Uncle in the mornings when he wanted fresh air? Horseback Daemon! Not dragon riding...horseback!" her words ending in a pant of breath as she spewed it all to him between animated waves of her hands.

Daemon stared down at her unblinking through it all as if she damn near grew a second head but then his lips were pressing tightly together to hide the grin he knew would only make the princess more irritated if she saw it and most likely fly her into another tirade. Any normal man would have scolded her and told her it was his duty; that she should concern herself with things more to her station. But he was not and she was different than other ladies and women of the court. So instead of brushing her off the rogue prince reached up to take hold of her face in his palms and leaned down to press his forehead against hers; gazing into the vibrancy of her eyes as if trying to sink into her very soul.

"Shijetra issa, dōna mēre. I did not mean to upset you." (Trans: Forgive me, Sweet one") Daemon murmured while his thumbs brushed along her cheekbones with such tenderness as he gave her a small smile which Astraea weakened to the effect and returned the smile with an indulgent one of her own.

"You could have at least sent me one note. That's all I ever really wanted to make sure you were alright." she finally surrendered allowing the righteous flame of her frustration to die out completely in a puff of smoke as she played with the ends of his long white hair that rested along his shoulders. "I missed you."

His eyes slid shut briefly hearing those three words slip from her lips. Because he honestly missed her too. More than he would say aloud. But instead of saying them back to her, he reopened his eyes to look at her again.

"I got you something." Daemon pulled away from her; allowing her gentle curves to slip from his fingers.

Astraea watched with childlike interest as the man stepped back to Caraxes's side to reach for the pack tied to the saddle and brought out a small velvet bag before he was stepping back in front of her with it in his palm.

"What is it?" her brows furrowed as she looked at the black velvet perched in his palm.

"Something I got for you for your eight and tenth birthday but it seems you have outgrown it throughout the years faster than anticipated so I suppose I shall give it to you now." the prince chuckled as he began to untie the strings of the baggie and reach inside to pull out something that glittered in the fading light of the evening.

"Oh...it's beautiful, Daemon." Astraea's gaze glittered in the light like twin gems just as much as the necklace the man held up between them did in the fading light.

It was truly a work of art; crafted specifically in mind for the princess herself. It was 3 delicate chains the color as black as coal but glistening with a metallic shine intertwined in a braid; thick enough that it was designed to be worn like a choker necklace and in the middle sat a ruby as a centerpiece. Below attached by a thin delicate black chain no more than an inch long was the carving of a metal dragon with one crimson eye made from a ruby glaring in the sun.

The princess reached up to caress the carved dragon and smile before the necklace was pulled from her grasp and the man twirled a finger around in the air in a silent command to turn around. Huffing with a playful roll of her eyes Astraea did as she was told and turned around. She smiled when she came face to face with Caraxes who had refused to follow the keeper into the cavern and was waiting with impatience to be greeted in return which the young woman did so with a flurry of High Valaryion endearments as she hugged the snout that was shoved unceremoniously against her chest making her stumble back into the rogue prince who grumbled something no lady should hear. But the princess did not mind and instead placed a kiss on the warm scales of the beast with another coo of delighted endearment.

"He's just grumpy, old boy." she teased resting her cheek on Caraxes head for a heartbeat before she pushed lightly at his cheek with a firm command and an even firmer look on her face as if a mother chiding her child. "Jikagon iemnȳ." (Trans:"Go inside")

As the large red beast gave a grumble but followed her orders Astraea could hear the prince grumbling even more under his breath behind her something about his dragon listening to only her and she turned to chide him but he merely grabbed her shoulders and spun her back around.

"Damnit Astraea turn around woman!" he ordered impatiently as he grabbed a fistful of her thick long curls and flung them over her shoulder.

"Temper temper Daemon. It's unbecoming of the king's brother." Astraea glanced over her shoulder at the man with a teasing mirth in her eyes

"When did you become so impish." Daemon's voice was low but teasing as he leaned closer and draped the cool metal over her head to rest against her throat and fasten the gift to its owner.

"I blame you. I spent far too much time with you when I was younger, Daemon. I swear."

"Don't swear, it's unladylike."

"And then you abandoned me." the beautiful girl spun around when she felt the clasp to the necklace latch. "How do I look?" she posed as if posing for a portrait painting with her shoulders thrown back and chin lifted up proudly.

Daemon's mirth turned into something more like tenderness with something else gleaming in the depths of his violet irises she could not place as he reached out to brush aside her hair from her shoulder; his fingers stroking down to the dragon that rested just below her collarbones. "You look beautiful, Dōna mēre." he murmured

Astraea looked up at him and smiled slightly as she reached up to grasp his wrist that rested at her throat. "I've missed you, truly."

He stared deeply at her for a moment as if he was mulling over something that was deep; his gaze flickering across her features making her wonder what he was thinking. But then he pulled his hand away from the warmth of her skin and instead linked her arm with his to guide her back down the side of the mountainside away from the Dragonpit. "You can tell me all about it during dinner. I feel like we have much to catch up on, princess."

She was amused. Seeing the tension and the surprise that no one else would have seen in his eyes if they knew Daemon as well as she when the man walked into the dining hall that night to find that there were new faces amongst the people last seen in his absence. Astraea sat on Viserys's left side at the head of the table while Aemma sat on his right across from her and him in the middle. There were others on council both from the court and those of Aemma's household that sat in the chairs scattered on both sides and everyone looked at the prince returned from battle in barely contained surprises. Viserys was one of those who stared in silence but Astraea knew he was secretly happy to see his brother home alive and without harm; that much was clear as he beckoned for a chair to be placed between his niece and the man she had been sitting beside.

"I'm glad you made it, brother," Viserys spoke up quietly as the servants placed the dishes down and the cluttering of silverware covered the conversation of the royal family at the head of the table.

"I was worried he was going to have vanished in his bath if he was even a little bit late in arriving," Astraea commented with a joking smile as she reached for her cup of wine in front of her receiving an odd look from Daemon who followed the journey of the golden goblet to her lips before he was meeting his brother's gaze.

"I am pleased to be home. I've truly missed Westeros after two years of nothing but the battlefield and unruly men." Daemon's lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to pick at his food.

"And here I thought you'd be going home to your lady wife instead of visiting the Red Keep." Lady Aemma gave a pointed look to the prince who stared her down without blinking.

"We can talk more of war later. Let's enjoy dinner." Viserys stated with a knowing nod before he was reaching for the pretty blonde's hand on his right side. "You remember our cousin the Lady Aemma of House Arryn, don't you brother?"

Daemon glanced at the woman before giving her a polite but courteous smile and nod. "I do. It brings me joy to see you are in good health, my lady. I hope my brother has not yet bored you of his company."

The brotherly jab did not go unnoticed as Astraea coughed into her cup of wine while she choked on the red liquid in the midst of a laugh and she covered her mouth feeling the tips of her ears growing red with embarrassment as amused gazes looked at her across the table.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to laugh." she wiped at her lips with a cloth and cleared her throat facing her plate again.

"It's always good to hear your laughter, niece" Aemma replied raising her own cup as a silent toast to her before sipping at the wine with smiling lips.

"Yes, well. I have asked Lady Aemma to marry me. The wedding will come in fourteen days time; I would hope you could come to the wedding unless you have more pressing matters to attend to." Daemon looked across between the two with wariness.

"Oh? That is great news. Congratulations are in order then for the both of you." the rogue prince stated. "I shall hope to make it. I would never miss my brother's wedding."

'Just the princess's birthdays' - the jab was right at the tip of Lady Aemma's tongue but she refrained and instead turned to her niece who piped up with an easy:

"Truly." Astraea agreed with a proud smile and Viserys was relieved to see how his niece had warmed to the idea of an addition to their family although thinking back; she'd already accepted Aemma before it had ever been official - the darling girl that she was.

"I would assume then you'll be consummating for an heir soon then?" Daemon grunted when Astraea's foot collided with his chin and her ruby eyes widened in horror that he had seriously said that aloud and at the dinner table no less.

"That's none of your business. You can't just ask that so bluntly!" she hissed at him before her hand swung out to smack him in the arm but his hand quickly caught her wrist and he brought her hand to his lips to a fleeting chaste kiss to her wrist to nullify her spark of anger.

"It was in jest, Astraea. We all know that is what is expected. There is no need for secrecy."

the princess pulled her hand back with a huff and resumed eating. Not caring as Daemon's violet eyes fixated on the side of her face. She looked pretty tonight having bathed with oils that reminded him of a spring meadow while she donned a beautiful dress made of red silk that hugged her upper body and allowed modest cleavage to spill forth; holding up with a beaded gold belt below her breasts. He took note with pride that she wore the necklace he had gifted to her hours before and that it was showcased more prominently due to the fact that her usually waist-length black curls were pinned up in intricate braiding and pinned in place with gold ornate clips allowed her elven ears to be on full display. When he finally drew his eyes away he caught Aemma's knowing look and he flashed her an appeasing smile before dropping his gaze back down to his plate as he ate with an occasional break in conversation with those at the table.

When the dinner affair was finally over Astraea was happy to retire to her room while Daemon and her uncle excused themselves with their councilmen to the council room to discuss news. Aemma tagged along with the young woman down the hall until the pair was finally closing the princess's chamber doors closed behind them.

"By the gods! I thought that would never be over!" Astraea breathed as she sank herself onto the lounge couch by her window and kicked off her slippers from her feet to prop them on the soft cushion.

Aemma laughed softly as she took a seat by her feet and rested a hand on her ankle. "You'd think you'd be used to them by now." she mused playfully before tipping her chin at her. "Are you happy to have Daemon home again?"

"I am. I've missed him very much." Astraea agreed with the slightest of smiles on her face as she sat up and drew her legs to the floor. "I've grown used to not having him around though; I've forgotten how potent his presence really is now that he's home. I'm just scared that in the morning he'll leave again without a word and I won't see him for another two years or longer," she confessed gazing down at her hands in her lap.

"I don't think there is anything to worry about. He doesn't seem too keen to leave anytime soon now that he's seen how much you've grown." Aemma amended softly as she scooted over and reached out to begin to pull the pins from the younger girl's hair allowing the dark curls to gradually fall to her shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" the princess blinked up at her

"I'm merely stating that if you do not wish for rumors to start princess you and your father should be a little more discreet in your mannerisms while in each other's company," Aemma replied carefully as she piled the pins in her lap.

"Daemon is not my father, Aemmna. I have never looked at that man as such!" the very idea made the girl's face scrunch up.

"Oh? I only assumed so since the king said you were taken in by Prince Daemon and you call the king uncle- If not a father figure then, princess how do you view the rogue prince?" Aemma asked carefully as she sifted her fingers through the girl's hair to untangle any curls.

Astraea sat thinking a moment with pursed lips. She spoke truly when she said that she did not think Daemon as a father figure. He had never once come off to her as such. Not unlike King Viserys who was the brother of the man supposedly raising her. Nor did she think of him as a lover. Daemon was simply...Daemon in her eyes. The one who had always guided her and protected her against the court while young. The very man who had fought for her honor time and time again, someone she had always found to be her comfort and her best friend but never once thought him as anything more than her Daemon. Her answer was not a simple one because to anyone else it didn't make sense.

"He is..." her teeth sank into the plump flesh of her bottom lip "He is simply Daemon. I do not know how to explain it, auntie. But I can assure you there is nothing but kinship between the rogue prince and myself. He has simply always been there for me growing up even while he distanced himself time and time again with training and war."

Aemma's face softened and she grasped the girl's arms to draw her against her shoulder in a familial squeeze of support and comfort. "Well, just be careful. I do not think he seems to be on the same page as you in that regard. Others have the same thoughts about his display of affection for you so openly in public. He is not known for affection beyond twisted manipulation and his...well, never mind." the blonde gave a plaintive smile as she let the girl go.

"It's not my place to say anything, anyhow. Here, let me help you undress from your gown." she offered

Astraea allowed the king's wife-to-be to grab her sleeping gown and help her into it before reaching for the necklace around her throat. But before Aemma could touch the piece of jewelry Astraea's hand clasped over it and her ruby eyes looked at her startled.

"I'm sorry, I'll get it." she stammered as she tenderly unclipped the fine artistry from around her throat and placed it back in the little velvet bag that rested on her vanity.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you." Astraea did not venture further to tell her where she had gotten it but the words hung heavy on her tongue. The woman seemed to understand regardless and gave the girl an indulgent smile of secrecy before she grabbed a wooden comb and began to brush her long hair out.

"I love your curls. I've never seen anyone's hair this long; not even my own has grown to such lengths. You must take such pride in it." Aemma commented as she moved the comb through the inky locks.

"Thank you." again, those words slipped like a parrot from Astraea's lips as she played with the fabric of her nightgown as her mind grew foggy with memories and daydreams

"I have always been told that I have lovely hair. I suppose that was the approval of some sort from my peers that I didn't have the heart to change so that no one looked at me differently, but truly it's such a pain to care for." she sighed out at last

"You care too much about how people view you, princess." Aemma's words would have brought any woman to a haughty defense but Astraea simply nodded to her not blind to her own faults.

"I know. I cannot help it. When you look as different as I any praise one gets for their looks can change a mindset." she turned her head to look up at the woman standing behind her with sad eyes. "People are not so open to change despite the world we live in. When we are born into a certain role that is a role that we are forced to play. You know this as well as I do."

Lady Aemma's heart constricted in her chest and she stopped to set the comb down so that she could kneel by the girl's side. "Astraea." she reached up to lift her chin with a kind smile. "You are a beautiful young lady that anyone would be lucky to have in their lives. Just because you are different does not take away how special you are. You are the princess of Westeros with the king and his brother at your back with a dragon covering a protective shadow. You are powerful my dear and you need to see that. A princess never allows the jealousy of her peers to get under her skin as if their opinion matters. You are of house Targaryen. You have every right to this family as I do."

Astraea studied the woman's face trying to allow her words to sink in. Once upon a time she had believed them true. But as she grew and as her body changed so did the views of her peers. It was easy to hide her elven ears with a hat or decorated headwrap and if she kept her head and eyes downcast no one would see her eyes and speculate. But Aemma was right. She could not hide forever and as the princess was taken under the wings of dragons she would soon have to play a part in her family. The problem was. No one wanted the freak of Westeros to wed in fear whatever she was would pass to any future children she may have; if one dared to wed and stomach to bed her. No, she was not ugly nor did she give reason to make people hate her asides from her unruly tongue, not unlike the man whose wing she took shelter beneath but because people feared things they could not understand and Astraea Targaryen was a thing of fearsome beauty no one ever chose to take the chance to understand. And that was her lifelong curse until she died.

Chapter 7

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dearunknown · 1 year

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05/27-28/23 (late night saturday, actually early sunday)

Dear Unknown,

Just got back from the DJ set. I did horribly. I feel so embarrassed I could die. I wish I’d gone to the hospital instead of honoring a commitment. Oh, well. Ezra and I left very quickly. I made us leave very quickly. I want to cry but am too ashamed to cry over something so miserable and stupid. Plus I don’t want anyone’s comfort. I don’t want a kind word or a kind touch from Ezra. Even Caro… well, I’d let Caro do anything to me.

As soon as I got home, I tore off my wristband (yellow) and wrote on it in black sharpie MY LAST DJ SET - 12 AM-1 AM 5/27-28, 2023 WORK.SHOP and put it at a perfect spot so that every morning almost inevitably upon waking up I will be reminded of my laziness, inadequacy, stupidity, vanity, — my weaknesses— and be reminded that I should never try for anything ever, ever again. I should take all my ambitions, all my desires, and shove them away. Nothing is ever going to happen for me. Nothing. The fact that I have a poor-paying but basically respectable job only serves to highlight the absurdity of my life. I want to let myself lose. I want to let myself lose control. I’m over it. I’m over my life. The wanton optimism of my 29 is putrid. It was rotten on the vine. I am a bad, weak, stupid person. I will not make it. I will not break out of my life. Continue living as a hollow vessel, or hang myself. The distinction is completely irrelevant. If I’m alive, that’s just a biological fact. I am the ancient mariner, my albatross is this horrible life I’ve made for myself. My soul is in complete squalor. I am less than anything. I am sorry to darken anyone’s doorstep. When Caro moves to New York, I will throw myself completely to drunkenness and desolate emptiness. I will probably stop taking any ADHD meds this summer, and my antidepressants after Caro leaves. I will be so contemptible and broken. Every day of drinking I will finish with my usual melange of klonopin and trazodone. One day might heart might feel slow enough I can feel it’s loss of feeling.

Today I talked to Nikolai on the phone. He made me promise to give Ezra my credit cards. He also told me to do the same with my alcohol, but I’m not doing that.

I hope tomorrow I feel horrible. I hope the next day, I feel worse. I hope every day becomes more of a curse than the last. In the end, my one heroism will be that I endured for so long.

I will accomplish nothing. I cannot be loved except for the mirages I put up of myself. I should withdraw from anyone who I am not forced to associate with. I will lavish all of my energy upon Caro before they leave. And as they drive away, I will see my future approach the horizon line. And I will collapse into my curse. I only have to be alive for 2 more months, maybe 3 or 4 at most.

Nikolai thinks I’m borderline. He also said that people who are in happy relationships don’t think (as I do of Ezra) about how they wish their partner hated them so much they would break up with them. I hope… I hope it isn’t alcoholism that does it. Although I am completely intent on being an alcoholic now, I hope that’s not what destroys this relationship. How banal. I hope he just grows to see me as I am, as the most contemptible woman. I have done so much evil to Ezra, but the worst thing I have done is certainly make him think he needs me, or wants me, or loves me. I am a ball of maggots projecting the image of a woman.

I hope my mother knows she did this to me. My grandmother did this to me. My aunt did this to me. The world did this to me. But really, I DID THIS TO ME.

I’m never listening to my therapist again when she encourages me to do something challenging. What a waste of everyone else’s time. I’m always going to be a waste of everyone’s time.

Thank you for listening. I hope you’re doing well. I’m sorry to be so self-centered. If you could write me back, I would attentively pour over your letters. I wish you weren’t so unknown to me.

Love,

Elizabeth

#personal

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raibebe · 3 years

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Love Is On Air

Genre: fluff & smut Words: 8.722 Prompt: radio host Johnny x secret admirer female reader Warnings: soft dom Johnny, oral (f receiving), safe sex, dirty talk

A/N: Finally: My entry for the February event of my lovely network @neosmutcollective. This is totally not the fic I planned on writing. In fact this was started way later after I realized I was never going to finish my original fic on time. Not that this one is on time... Special thanks to everyone who sent our lovely DJs some music recommendations @sly-merlin, @moonctzeny, @lenaluvs, @lucas-wongs, @burtonized and to @ncteaxhoe who helped me figure out this idea. I hope you enjoy this even though it’s wayyy too late.

You hurried home to your apartment after your last class of the day that was horrifically late because of whoever had fucked up your schedule this semester. Panting heavily, you busted into your room and threw your jacket and backpack somewhere onto your couch, diving straight for your laptop that was perched on your desk. Cursing the old thing, you waited for agonizing minutes until it had booted up and your browser was open. You quickly opened the familiar page of your university’s campus radio just in time to hear the familiar voice saying: “Hi I’m John-D, welcome to NCT Night Night.” After that both hosts chuckled lowly before Jaehyun spoke: “Tonight we’ll read some of the letters you wrote us over the week again and we will try our best to help you out with whatever problems you throw our way.” “Exactly. Right after we play this song that was suggested by evangelie_99 over on our Twitter, it’s Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County and she said that she loves our show. We’re glad you like it so much, darling. This one is for you,” Johnny softly said before the soft tunes of the song filled your little one-room apartment.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, carelessly toeing your shoes off. Listening to NCT Night Night was your escape at night from the stress that classes brought you. The two DJs that were on air every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday were your favorites though. Not only did they have great chemistry but they both could be incredibly funny as well as soothe all your nerves with their calming voices – especially Johnny or John-D as he was called on their show. You might have developed a slightly embarrassing crush on the fratboy with a heart as sweet as his voice from what you knew about him from his radio shows and your shared classes. Since they had started their weekly segment where they would read out letters that students could send them, you had gathered the courage to send Johnny little messages about how you were crushing on him and it had quickly become a running gag on the show. Jaehyun would tease Johnny about it every week while Johnny kept insisting that his secret admirer should just talk to him. But how could you do that? Johnny was everything one could want in a boyfriend. Not only was he ridiculously tall and devastatingly handsome but he was also smart, always seemingly staying on top of his classes and he also went to the gym regularly if his thirst traps on his Instagram stories were anything to go by. When he wasn’t giving out advice in a gentle voice on their radio program, he was out partying with his frat brothers on the weekends more often than not complaining about headaches on their Sunday show. How could you just walk up to him and talk to him? Right. You couldn’t. So you had to resign to sending him anonymous love letters through his radio show.

“Welcome back, hi,” Johnny chuckled once the song had gently faded out and you couldn’t help but giggle along. “That was Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County,” Jaehyun tried to stay on script but you could almost hear the grin on his face because of Johnny’s antics, “If you want your song to play on today’s show, please suggest something over on our Twitter with the hashtag,” Jaehyun paused momentarily and let out a dramatic sigh before continuing, “hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin.” Jaehyun hadn’t even read the whole hashtag out loud when Johnny was already bursting out in laughter and how could you not laugh along with his melodic laughter. “I swear to god I am never letting you choose hashtags for our show ever again,” Jaehyun groaned while Johnny sounded like he was still dying in the background. “Don’t be mean to me Jaehyunie,” he whined and even though today’s episode was not viewable, you could vividly imagine how he was pouting. While the two friends were busy bickering and talking about what they had done since their last show, you pulled up your own Twitter to send a recommendation in.

“Aaaah, I see we’re already getting plenty of suggestions. Sly-merlin suggested us Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato – a great song – and added ‘I wish John-D would actually play me like a violin.” After a potent silence, Johnny broke out in laughter again. “And this is why you won’t choose any more hashtags,” Jaehyun groaned again. “Baby,” Johnny rasped into his mic and even though you weren’t wearing headphones, it sent tingles down your spine, “Just come to our frat party on Friday and I’ll see what I can do.” “Stop plugging our parties on the radio,” Jaehyun scolded the elder, the slap audible over the radio, “Also sly-merlin has to stand in line. You still have your number one admirer who has sent in a letter yet again.” “She still hasn’t come up to me,” Johnny shared, “I can only keep up my chastity for so long. I am saving myself for this girl.” You know he was joking but you were just a simple woman and even in your secluded home, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, your thumbs stopping on your keyboard where you had typed out your song recommendation. Both DJs shared a quiet laugh before Jaehyun asked: “And you really don’t know who she is?” “I really don’t man,” his friend sighed, “Like I have my suspicions because she has to be in my major if she sees me in class that often. That or she’s a stalker which I do not want to think about. But for real, hit me up. I’ll take you out for a coffee.” “Now everyone is going to come up to you and claim that they’re her.” “I’ll take that risk,” Johnny laughed, “Maybe I’ll finally meet the love of my life and settle down.” At that Jaehyun snorted loudly. “The woman that can make you settle down gets free coffee for like a month from me.” “Watch me have a wife and kids at 25 Jae, just to spite you,” his friend snorted, “But up until then, let’s play sly-merlin’s song recommendation: Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato.”

While the song was playing, you finished up your own tweet and hit post before you grabbed your bag that you had carelessly thrown away before to get out your notes. You actually had to start a project for one of the classes you and Johnny actually did share. The professor had announced that he would announce the pairings for a group project tomorrow and you didn’t want to seem like an actual idiot if your group would decide to already meet up and discuss after class. So while you listened to your favorite DJs discuss the questions and worries of whoever had sent them to their email address, you worked through the notes you had taken over the last couple of weeks, trying your best to organize them to remember the key points.

“Oh John-D, I have a very special letter here,” Jaehyun said, waving the paper in front of the microphone so it would pick up the wiggling noises. “What could that be?” Johnny asked with over-exaggerated interest. “It’s from your secret admirer, John-D. So I think you should read it out.” Just like every time, they read your letter, your heart began beating faster and faster in your chest until you were sure, it would break free from your ribcage. “Okay, here I go,” Johnny announced while Jaehyun was playing the same cheesy music he always played when they were reading your letters, “Happy Thursday, John-D. The weekend is almost in reach, keep up the energy for the last day of classes! – she’s so sweet, I’m holding up alright – One of my professors will announce the pairings he made for a group project soon and I am nervous. I don’t have many friends in the course and I’m praying that I will get good group mates I can work well with.” “Oooh, I get that struggle,” Jaehyun interrupted, “I once had to work with a bunch of stoners and ended up doing all the work for a presentation that made up 30 percent of my grade. Worst experience of my life, would not recommend. But we’re wishing you all the luck.” “But you know what’s more interesting about this story?” Johnny tuned in, “Coincidentally my professor for my literature class is assigning our group projects tomorrow as well. Say, my sweet admirer, are you perhaps in the same literature class as me?” In your otherwise silent room, the panicked squeak you let out was loud even to your ears. There was no way Johnny could figure out who you were, there were probably at least 20 more girls with a crush on him in that class alone, so you were safe. “Oooh, so maybe she’s a lit major so that’s why she’s writing love letters.” “Could be but lots of people from different majors are taking that class,” Johnny argued, “Anyways, back to her letter. But I won’t let that disturb me! I will be doing my best regardless! – That’s the spirit – I’ll work through my notes as I listen to your honey voice so I can be prepared. I’m glad you don’t do viewable radios on Thursday’s or else I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, you’re just too distracting John-D,” at that Jaehyun let out a fake gag while Johnny just giggled softly, “Thank you secret admirer, I do clean up quite nicely if I do say so myself. – On last Sunday’s episode you melted my heart when you hid in your hoodie for half the show. – God that was the worst hangover I had in a looong while, I was so miserable.”

“You should have seen him at home,” Jaehyun laughed, “I had to physically drag his whole 180-something-centimeters body first into the shower, then into the car and into the station. He is the biggest crybaby when he’s hungover.” “Don’t expose me like that, Jaehyunie,” Johnny whined loudly, “I was dared to drink a bunch of tequila and my mother didn’t raise neither a quitter nor a coward.” “No, but clearly an idiot,” the younger DJ laughed his deep laugh. “Let me read my love letter in peace,” the other grumbled, “I couldn’t follow for half the show because I was so focused on watching you. Not in a creepy way of course! – Of course not,” Johnny chuckled, “I hope you finished that essay you had to work on after the show in time and still had some time to relax. – I did, don’t worry.” That you already knew when Johnny had handed in his essay in another class you two shared just before you had handed in yours and he had thrown you a little smile that had kept you going through the whole day. “Take care of yourself and keep smiling your beautiful smile, I look forward to seeing you again on Sunday or in classes. And fighting to Jae-D as well of course! – I look forward to hearing from you again, secret admirer. I bet your group project will go just fine, don’t worry too much. If anyone is mean to you, just expose them here and we’ll fight them for you.” “Love that she acknowledged me in one sentence as well,” Jaehyun grumbled, cutting off the cheesy music abruptly. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a sweet admirer who sends you cute messages,” the other teased his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and put that letter in the box under your bed.” “It’s in my sock drawer, thank you very much.”

Giggling, you listened to the two friends bicker, your chest warm with a feeling you were scared to put a name on. “Anyways, I think it’s time for another music recommendation you can still send in via our lovely hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin. This one is from lenaluvies and she says: Please play Hurts So Good by Astrid S thank you. No, thank you for sending something in darling. This one’s for you,” Johnny announced and you couldn’t help but laugh a little pained laugh. That song title hit a little too close to home for your liking. The rest of the radio show went by smoothly and Johnny and Jaehyun tried to help a handful of more students with their problems that couldn’t be more diverse. From a boy who had fallen in love with his best friend which had send him into an identity crisis over to a girl who was failing her classes because she claimed the professor hated her to a freshman who wanted to apply for a fraternity but was scared because of the rumors surrounding them which the DJs quickly debunked since they both were in the same fraternity. In the end they had to cut themselves short, asking their viewers to vote on a poll they would make if people wanted a whole Tuesday episode surrounding fraternities.

“So.” “So,” Johnny copied his friend. “We’re almost at the end of our time with you guys. We couldn’t get through all of your submissions but we hope our team picked a few good ones and at least some of you could get some advice.” “As always you’re free to send us your own stories to our e-mail [email protected] to get some advice next Thursday from your favorite DJs: John-D.” “And Jae-D. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on your campus radio on 127mHz. On NCT-“ “Night Night,” they said their ending together and just like every night with them, you said goodnight to your computer screen, closing the tab which draped your little apartment in silence. Sighing loudly, you looked over your notes that needed a little more work if you wanted to make a good first impression on your fellow students tomorrow. Because you couldn’t stand the silence, you opened your Spotify to play the NCT Night Night playlist Johnny and Jaehyun had made with the songs that had been recommended to them, still missing the new additions from tonight.

The next morning found you in your literature class, sitting two rows behind Johnny, staring at the back of his head while doodling on your paper rather than taking notes on whatever the professor was saying. If you were to let your eyes wander, you’d see that almost everyone in the big room was paying as much or even less attention as you were; the students in different states of excitement and anxiety over the group projects he had yet to announce. “I’m sorry professor,” Johnny’s voice suddenly cut through the room, “I’m sure you have already noticed that no one is paying attention to whatever you’re trying to teach us right now. Could you please just announce the groups for the project?” That moment you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop until your eccentric professor chuckled lowly. “I like you, Suh. I was waiting for someone to mention it,” he spoke, getting the dreaded list out of his bag, “Listen closely now, you’ll be assigned in groups of four and each group will get a specific novel to work on. Deadline will be by the end of the semester and your individual paper combined with the group presentation will make up 40% of your final grade.” That made a bunch of people, including you, gasp out loudly. A group project with this much credit to your final grade was always dreaded. “I don’t want to hear any complaints, that’s how it’s always been. Now listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself but the list will be hung on our blackboard as well.” With that being said, the professor began listing names and novels in the most monotone voice he could muster. To say you were basically vibrating off of your seat was an understatement when he got further and further down the list and neither yours nor Johnny’s name had been called yet. “And lastly, an all-time favorite: Romeo and Juliet.” You didn’t even register anything else after the professor had announced that the group featured both Johnny and you along with two other students you didn’t know. Your brain was reduced to static noise while everyone else was getting up around you to pick up the books that had already been stacked in a corner, probably by a poor TA. Only when a person bumped into you, you broke from your stupor to quickly pick up your stuff as well to hurry down to steps to where a crowd of students had already gathered.

Luckily Johnny towered over most of the other students and you could easily spot him and the rest of your group that were two other boys you didn’t recognize. “Hey, you’re the last one we were missing,” Johnny smiled and handed you over your copy of the book. “Y... Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” you stuttered, clutching the small book tightly in your hands. “No big deal,” Johnny played it off, “Do any of you have any more classes today?” When everyone declined, you all agreed that you should get a head start on your project as it would be hard to make a good project out of such an overused love story. While walking over to the student center to decide on a concept, conversation flowed easily between the four of you even though you were still really nervous to be around Johnny. God, you really hoped he didn’t think you were stupid or something just because you were nervous.

The little study session went by in a blur and only further confirmed that you were so whipped for Johnny it wasn’t even funny anymore. You found yourself attentively listening to all of his ideas and laughing at every of his stupid little jokes and only mildly spacing out while looking at Johnny when the others were discussing ideas which had led to one or two mildly embarrassing situations where you would lose track of what you were actually discussing, your mind blank of any input when they asked for your opinion.

Soon you found yourself parting ways with your groupmates, leaving you and Johnny alone because his frat house and your little apartment were located in the same general direction. “Anything fun you’re doing this evening?” Johnny asked, trying to make some light conversation to fill the silence. “No, I’ll just binge watch some shows maybe or listen to the campus radio,” you shrugged it off. While today’s show wasn’t your favorite, you quite liked the DJs soft and gentle voice. “You listen to the campus radio? I have a show on there,” Johnny smiled. “I like listening to you and Jaehyun,” you confessed, trying to fight the heat that was licking at your cheeks. “Oh.” “You seem surprised.” “Yeah, it kind of still seems weird that people enjoy listening to Jae and me rambling for hours on end. You know with him it just feels like I’m hanging out with my brother rather than work.” “Your voices are really soothing, you know,” you tried to explain what you were feeling when listing to them, “And your friendship is kind of adorable. Like we can feel how much you care about each other and you always genuinely try to help your listeners without making fun of them.” For a while Johnny didn’t say anything and you thought you had fucked it up, that he thought you were weird now. “Thank you,” he suddenly said. “Huh?” “It means a lot hearing that. We do lurk on Twitter to see what people think of our show but hearing it like this is something else entirely.” “It’s nothing,” you mused, playfully hitting his arm, “No need to get this soft.” “Hey,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am 180 centimeters of walking softness despite what people might say about me.” Smiling softly you caught his eyes for the first time since you two had started walking and the way his honey eyes were smiling back at you momentarily took your breath away.

“I- My room is right around here, sooooo,” you stuttered. “It was nice working with you. Even though you were spacing out half the time,” Johnny teased, “Thinking about a special someone?” You. The word sat on the tip of your tongue, the low light of the afternoon sun making you bolder than you actually were and Johnny just made you feel incredibly comfortable. “No... No- I- I’m single.” “A crush then?” “Something like that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your jacket. “Talk to him. Or her. Or them,” Johnny advised. “I really can’t,” you sighed, “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Well you don’t need to confess your undying love for him,” he laughed, not knowing he was the boy in question, “Just you know. Casually talk to him. Get to know him.” “I’ll try?” “Is that a question?” “Yeah?” “Have more confidence in yourself,” he gently nudged you, “You’re nice and very easy to talk to.” “Nice... Wow.” “Shut up,” he laughed, “I usually give better compliments but I have yet to get to know you better.” “Would you... Would you even want that?” “Sure,” Johnny shrugged and your heart skipped a couple of beats, “I have to get going or everybody will already be drunk when I arrive. So... I’ll see you in class? And you’ll hear me on Sunday?” “Yeah sure. Don’t drink too much or you will be miserable all show like last week,” you giggled. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m never going to drink tequila on a Saturday ever again.” “Goodbye Johnny,” you smiled, really liking how his name sounded when you said it out loud. “Bye,” he waved before going his way.

Once you were sure he was out of hearing distance, you let out a little happy squeak and jumped up and down excitedly. You did it. You had actually done it. You had talked to your crush. And managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him. Which was a win in your books. A huge win. With a little spring in your steps, you stepped by one of your favorite pizza places to treat yourself before heading home where you spend your evening daydreaming about none other than Johnny while watching reruns of old dramas.

“Hi, I’m Jae-D.” “And I am John-D. Welcome to NCT-“ “Night Night.” “John-D.” “Yes, Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled. “It’s Thursday again which means it’s time to tend to our listener’s worries,” Jaehyun read off of the script, not getting distracted by his friend’s antics, “And today is a very special episode.” “Special?” Jaehyun barely repressed to roll his eyes at his friend’s over-exaggerated acting before continuing: “Yes, since tomorrow is a day off for all students, we have decided to make this episode extra lengthy and-“ he shortly stopped to flash the camera a peace sign, “Viewable despite it being Thursday.” “Do we look okay?” Johnny laughed, checking himself out in the video that was playing on one of their monitors. “Aaaaah, the comments say we look good tonight, thank you,” Jaehyun mused.

And they really did. Not that either of them had to do a whole lot to look good but today they were both wearing white button-downs with their sleeves rolled up to expose their forearms. Jaehyun had even gone so far as to put on some fake glasses. “And if you’re following us on our Twitter you also already know that this week it’s all about love on our campus radio and our show today is no exception,” Johnny read his part of the script. “Today John-D and Jae-D are Loveholics, trying our very best to help you with your problems surrounding love,” Jaehyun completed, “You can send in song recommendations through the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic just like taryn1026 did – I hope I said that right – but they recommended Paris in the Rain by Lauv to set the mood for today.”

The soft tunes of the song made you relax a little into your sofa where you had chosen to watch today’s episode of NCT Night Night. You had to say that you were kind of nervous for today’s episode. Just like every week you had written your letter to Johnny, telling him about your week and cheering him on for your group project. At this point it should have been pretty obvious just who exactly you were and judging by how Johnny was acting towards you, his flirting leaving you flustered after your study sessions and your group mates mildly annoyed, he seemed to already have put together the pieces. But yesterday while writing your letter you had felt extra bold (and maybe also extra riled up and horny from Johnny’s shameless flirting) and had written him a message that should confirm all his suspicions and would hopefully lead him straight to you and into your bed. But until the end of the show or at least until they read your letter, which you really hoped they did today as well, you had to wait sitting in your apartment, for once not in comfortable clothes but in a nice shirt and pants.

“That was Paris in the Rain by Lauv, recommended to us by taryn1026 through our Twitter with the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Johnny’s raspy voice filled your apartment when he leaned close to the mic, “Jae-D are you ready to make some love happen?” “I already had my love juice,” Jaehyun answered, showing his pink Starbucks drink to the camera, “And my reading glasses are on.” As to prove his point, he hiked his glasses up his nose before scratching his eye through the holes in the frame, making both DJs chuckle. For the next hour Johnny and Jaehyun tried to solve several relationship dramas as well as a very tricky friends-with-benefits situation and telling a boy to break up with his cheating girlfriend which had been a rather heartbreaking discussion. “So after this,” Jaehyun sighed, “Let’s play another song recommendation. Burtonized has sent in a very fitting song, I hope you all don’t mind a little Korean: It’s God Damn by I.M – a song about heartbreak.”

While the foreign song was playing, the two DJs stretched their backs and sipped on their respective drinks: Jaehyun still on his pink sugar concoction and Johnny already on his second iced Americano. Jaehyun must have found something funny on his phone, nudging his friend to look at him but Johnny was busy typing away on his own, only acknowledging his friend after he had typed his message. Just after that, your own phone buzzed with a message, showing Johnny’s name on the screen.

From: Johnny Are you watching our show?

To: Johnny Sure, you look good today

From: Johnny Make sure to listen closely ;)

“That was God Damn by I.M suggested by burtonized over our Twitter hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Jaehyun’s smooth voice tore you from your spiraling thoughts about the winking face Johnny had sent. “Sadly our show is coming to an end even with our extended airtime.” “But John-D a very important letter is still missing before we close our show. Dare I say it could be the highlight of our show,” Jaehyun joked, already playing the cheesy music he was always playing when Johnny would read your letters. “You’re right Jae-D my lovely secret admirer has sent in another letter,” Johnny mused, arranging himself so he could read the printed out letter while being as close as possible to the mic for it to pick up the rasp in his voice, “Happy Thursday John-D, I hope your week has been more exciting than mine. I have just been going from class to class without much thought, the only high points are my group meetings for the group project we have to hand in soon – That seems very familiar, baby – But since today is all about love, I’ll tell you about a little problem I have: – get your love juice ready, Jae – There is this boy in my group. And boy isn’t really the right word to describe him, he’s a man really,” at that Johnny couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’ll be serious – And he is flirting with me. Has been for a couple of weeks now. And it has gotten to the point where our groupmates are kind of annoyed at us. He has also walked me home a couple of times but he never so much as touched me. At this point I am so frustrated with him. Is he just playing with me? Or is his mouth bigger than his actions actually are? He has been riling me up all day today and I was ready to let him have his way with me but he only wished me goodnight and left again, leaving me to deal with what he had done all by myself – oh wow, I,” Johnny stuttered, sharing a gaze with his friend who was only barely repressing his laughter, “Wow, okay, I hope we’re in the good for reading this out and it’s late enough,” clearing his voice and raking a hand through his hair, Johnny continued, “John-D I hope this man hears what he has done to me and will deal with the consequences of his actions. Would you play Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL for me? Just in case this letter hasn’t gotten my point across? – Y... Yeah sure, darling. We’ll play that once our show is over.”

“So John-D,” Jaehyun grinned while loudly slurping on his ‘love juice’, “What would you advice your secret admirer to do about this problem?” “Well if I were her,” Johnny started, his gaze going straight to the camera where he knew you were watching and it felt like he was looking straight into your soul, “I’d wait for him. I’m pretty sure he can prove that his actions speak even louder than his words.” For a while it was quiet between the two DJs, safe for Jaehyun’s obnoxiously loud slurping noises but even if they would have been saying anything, you weren’t sure if you could have comprehended any words with how furiously your heart was beating. “Anyways,” Jaehyun eventually broke the silence once he was sure there was nothing left in his ‘love juice’, “I’m afraid that was it for tonight. This has been your extra lengthy episode of Jae-D and John-D and we will leave you with this wonderful song recommendation: Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL. If you’ve liked today’s show, we’re here every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday night on your campus radio on 127mHz to listen to all of your worries on NCT-“ “Night Night,” Johnny joined in and they both waved into the camera as your song of choice started playing. The video stream didn’t cut off immediately, showing the boys gathering their things and if your eyes weren’t betraying you, you swore you saw Johnny tense up when the song turned a little more explicit. The two DJs waved to the camera one last time before the stream cut off, leaving the screen of your laptop dark.

That was when it dawned on you what you had done. Shit. With how Johnny had sounded, you probably had about fifteen to twenty minutes until he would be at your doorstep. Oh god. Shit. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you tried to ground yourself before hurriedly closing your laptop and cleaning everything that seemed messy in your little one-room apartment. That was until you heard a knock on your door.

With shaky hands, you slowly opened the door and while you knew who would be standing on the other side, you weren’t ready for how he was going to look like: Johnny was leaning against the doorway casually with his arms crossed over his chest so the tight button-down he was wearing would strain over the planes of his chest muscles but what really reeled you in was how dark his eyes looked when he raked them over your body. “Good evening miss,” he drawled. “Hi,” you breathed. “Tell me what you want so I’m not misinterpreting any of this,” Johnny all but growled, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. “I want you to have me.” If you thought his eyes were dark before, they turned into bottomless black orbs once the words had left your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.” “Please,” you whimpered and that seemed to break Johnny’s resolve as he pulled you close to him and all but crashed his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t delicate in any way, shape or form with how Johnny was licking into your mouth the second a moan left your lips. His tongue was intertwining with yours messily and in no time both of you were panting into each other’s mouths. “Inside. Now,” you rasped. “All with due time,” Johnny chuckled but let you pull him into your apartment, slamming the door shut to crowd you against it, one of his strong thighs slipping between your legs like it belonged there, “If you’re a good girl and listen well, I’ll give you anything you want.” “Fuck,” you cursed before slamming your lips together again, a new neediness bleeding into the kiss as you tugged on the longer strands of hair at the back of Johnny’s neck which made him growl lowly. “Anything off-limits?” Johnny breathed into your skin as he kissed down your neck to suck a mark there while his hands were busy pulling your shirt from your pants so he could rake them over your naked skin. “Just,” you had to cut yourself off with a moan, “Don’t be mean to me.” “Never,” he promised, “You’ll be my pillow princess.” His sweet words were in stark contrast to how hard his hands were gripping your hips and how his teeth were grazing over your neck that must be littered with marks already. “Take me to bed,” you heaved breathlessly, positive your legs would give out if it wasn’t for Johnny holding you up.

Listening to your demand, he slowly started walking you backwards towards your bed until the two of you were toppling down on top of the covers, his lips never leaving your skin. Whoever had spread the rumors about Johnny being a great lover had been absolutely right, he knew just how to touch you to have you gasping for air and judging by the grin on his lips he hadn’t even started yet. “Please,” you whimpered, arching into his touch, not exactly sure what exactly you were asking for but Johnny seemed to know all the better when he freed you from your top and pants to leave you in your matching lace set while he was still fully clothed in his by now wrinkled button-up and pants. “All for me?” He chuckled and pressed a kiss right between the valley of your breasts, his big hands cupping the soft flesh to squeeze it gently. “Have me,” you gasped out and you could feel the growl he let out vibrating where you were pressed together. “I’m going to ruin you,” Johnny promised, pulling down the cups of your bra to wrap his plush lips around one of your nipples to tease the soft nub until it hardened under his ministrations, sending waves of pleasure down your spine and straight to your core where you could feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your panties. “Johnny,” you mewled and arched into his every touch, his calloused fingertips setting your skin alight when he let them travel down your body to tease over your lower stomach. As if by reflex, you let your thighs fall open for him to finally touch you where you needed him the most. “Such a good girl,” he smiled, blowing cold air over your spit-slicked nipple to watch you squirm beneath him. Your remark got stuck in your throat when he finally cupped you through your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had already become. “Naughty,” he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face as he circled your clit through the fabric, watching your eyes fluttering shut when his gaze became too intense.

“Johnny,” you sighed, forgetting all other words except for his name. “Relax, princess,” he rasped and kissed his way down your body, leaving love bites on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs that shook with anticipation. If you’d say you hadn’t dreamed about his lips on you like this, you would lie and you weren’t going to miss the sight of this for nothing. Fighting back the fog that had started to cloud your mind, you forced your eyes open to look down to where he had settled between your open thighs to find him staring right back at you. “Good girl,” he praised you again before pressing a kiss over your clothed sex that made your head fall back already, the anticipation of what was to come making you push up your hips which made Johnny chuckle lowly. He didn’t leave you any time to feel embarrassed by how needy you were when he hooked your panties to the side unceremoniously and licked a broad stripe up your center, tasting your arousal. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your hands flying down to tangle them in the long strands of his hair. Johnny worked his tongue in slow and clever strokes, leaving your mind reeling with pleasure and taking his time to take you apart piece by piece, not even paying attention to your leaking center or your aching clit. But when he did wrap his lips around your clit to gently suck on the nub, your mind almost went numb with how intense his touch was, your thighs clamping shut around him. To make it even worse, he started humming around you while prying your thighs back open, holding you down with his large hands. You felt your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast now that he was altering between teasing your clit with his tongue, lips and even his teeth and fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, setting your nerve endings on fire. “Johnny I’m close,” you warned him but instead of slowing down, he stretched his jaw wide to press his tongue further into you, his nose bumping into your clit in the process and with the combined sensation and his doubled effort, it took no time for your first orgasm of the night to wash over you, a scream of his name leaving your lips as you shook through it, your mind going equally as numb as your legs.

When you came back to it, Johnny had straightened up between your legs and he was grinning down at you while he was unbuttoning his shirt, his face still shiny with your arousal. “That was the first one,” he spoke darkly. “Come here,” you whined, making grabby hands for him until he took pity on you and covered your body with his before connecting your lips in a bruising kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips but that somehow just made it even hotter.

“Want you inside me,” you panted against his lips when Johnny broke the kiss in favor of raking his teeth over your racing pulse. “Yeah?” He rasped and ground his hips down into yours, making you feel him strain against the fabric of his pants. “Need it,” you moaned at the sweet friction. “Think you can take me?” He laughed as he leaned back on his hunches to pop open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. With wide eyes you watched him push his pants down his narrow hips, leaving him in just his navy boxers that showed the sizable imprint of his hard cock, the fabric against the head dark from where he had leaked precum. Chuckling, he stroked over the outline and just the sight alone made your mouth water. “Show me,” you breathed, spreading your thighs so he could see your needy core, clenching around nothing. “Hmm,” he hummed, dragging one of his fingers that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing himself through the mess of arousal and his saliva between your legs, only barely dipping it into you to feel the muscles trying to suck him inside. “Don’t tease me,” you whined high in your throat. “But I like seeing you squirm,” Johnny grinned but took mercy on you and sunk his finger into you up to the knuckle, gently pumping it inside you. Still sensitive from how intense your last orgasm had been, you were torn between pulling away and wanting more but Johnny made the decision for you when he pulled his finger out, wiping your arousal onto your thigh.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded and finally freed his cock from his briefs. “Fuck.” The curse left your lips without even noticing at the sight of his flushed cock, too heavy to properly stand up against his toned abs. The tip was tinted red and shiny with precum that Johnny generously spread down that whole length, his eyes not leaving yours as you watched him lazily jerk himself. “Like what you see?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Want it inside me.” “Yeah? Show me.”

Throwing all caution out of the window, you quickly sucked two of your fingers between your lips before guiding them to your weeping core to slip them inside you, letting out an over-exaggerated moan as you crooked them. “Oh you’re so naughty, baby,” Johnny groaned, squeezing the base of his cock tightly as he watched you fingering yourself and if you had even one coherent thought left in your head, you’d have the decency to be embarrassed because of how intensely he was staring. “It’s not enough,” you pouted, pulling your fingers free and spreading them to look at the slick covering them, “I’m so wet for you.” “Such a dirty mouth,” he groaned, quickly grabbing his pants to fish a condom from his wallet to roll over his hard length. “Please, Johnny,” you hiccupped, winding your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. “Sssh, princess,” he soothed you, running his hands over your torso before bending down to press tender kisses to your stomach, “I’ll take care of you.” “Please kiss me.”

Dropping his elbows next to your head to support his weight, he covered your body with his and caught your lips in a kiss much too tender for your current situation, taking his time to explore your mouth until you were perfectly pliant beneath him. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered into the small space between you while he snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your core. When the head slipped in without much resistance, both of you let out twin moans of pleasure. Painstakingly slowly Johnny pushed inside you, centimeter by centimeter until his hips were flush to yours. “Breathe, princess,” he reminded you because you indeed had held your breath and had buried your nails in his biceps. “Shit, you’re big,” you cursed. “So I’ve been told,” Johnny chuckled and peppered your face and neck with little kisses while he slowly ground his hips so you could get used to him inside you.

“Move,” you demanded after a while. “What’s the magic word baby?” He grinned. “Please, Johnny,” you whimpered, clenching down on him. “Once more.” “Don’t make me beg.” “But you sound so pretty when you do,” he chuckled, only barely moving his hips. “Johnny please,” you whined, trying your best to move on his cock on your own but the angle was just not working out. “Oh, you want to do the work?” “I want you to move,” you groaned, pawing at his chest.

“But I think you’d look so pretty riding my cock,” Johnny rasped and in one fluid movement, he had sat up and pulled you onto his lap. Shit, it felt like he was even deeper now. “Come on, princess.” Whining, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled your legs beneath you so you could lift your hips up to make his cock smoothly slide out, the friction just right before you slowly dropped back down again, earning you an appreciative groan from Johnny. “That’s right, baby,” he praised you as you slowly found a comfortable pace, swiveling your hips until the angle was just right. Tightening the grip you had on his shoulders to use it as leverage, you began riding him in earnest, impaling yourself on his cock over and over again until your head was spinning and your thighs started to burn. “Come on, doll,” Johnny grinned, catching one of your nipples between his lips. Whining, you rolled your hips faster until your thighs began shaking. “Need help?” He just grinned, his big hands holding onto your hips to help you move up and down his cock at a steadier pace. “Please Johnny,” you hiccupped, hiding your face in his neck to ground yourself, “Please fuck me.” “Am I not doing just that?” He chuckled, filthily grinding his cock inside you. “Do it right,” you panted into his skin, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” He didn’t have to tell you twice, it was almost comical how quickly you obeyed his command and arched your back for him. “Hmm, that’s it,” he praised you, tracing the curve of your spine with his hands until he reached the space between your shoulder blades where he gently pushed down to make you arch even further. “So good and pliant for me, just waiting to be filled.” “Please,” you just whined again, past the point of caring about how pathetic you sounded, begging for his cock. “Say it baby,” he demanded, slapping his cock against your wet folds. “Please fuck me Johnny. Please. I want your cock inside me so badly. Want you to fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name anymore. Please I need it. I-“ your frantic rambling got cut off by the surprised moan leaving your lips as he thrust into you without any warning. “Don’t hold back baby,” Johnny rasped before gripping your hips tightly to finally fuck you in earnest, the sound of skin slapping together loud in the otherwise silent room. “God, your ass looks amazing,” he moaned, burying himself in your tight heat over and over again, mesmerized by how his cock was glistening in the low light and how easily your body opened up for him, “You’re basically made to take my cock.” You could only mewl at his dirty words and fist the sheets tightly in your hands as you tried to meet his thrusts as best as you could while you felt like you got your soul fucked right out of you.

“Feels so good,” you slurred when you felt the familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap, clenching around Johnny’s cock. “God baby, if you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum,” Johnny cursed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up against his chest, the pace of his hips only getting faster. “Please Johnny. Want it inside,” you whined, letting him use your body how he wanted to relish in the low moans he let out. “You want me to fill you up baby?” “Want it so bad, Johnny,” you mewled. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you anything you want.” And oh god. You had never thought that the strained sound of a couple of words could be enough to actually trip you over the edge but the rasp in Johnny’s voice had you falling apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it had your thighs shaking. “Such a good girl,” Johnny praised you before he let out a low guttural moan and fucked into you once – then twice – before his hips came to a halt, emptying his cum inside the condom.

For a while you two just panted loudly before Johnny gently laid you back down onto the mattress, chuckling lowly when you whined at the loss of his cock. “Shit,” you giggled while he quickly got rid of the condom, throwing it in the general direction of your trashcan. So tender you could have missed it, Johnny pressed a row of kisses down your spine until he reached the swell of your ass. “Cuddle me,” you pouted, making grabby hands at him. “We’re sweaty, princess,” he laughed but gave in when you kept pouting. “I don’t care,” you whined, fitting your head beneath his, wrapping your arms and legs around his body to cling to him like a koala. “You’re cute,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For how long did you know?” “Know what?” Johnny asked, clearly confused. “That I was your secret admirer.” “I didn’t.” “It was so obvious,” you groaned. “Okay maybe I got a hunch after we started that group project. But you never said anything.” “What was I supposed to say? Oh Johnny, by the way, I’m the one who has been writing you cringey love letters for like half a year already. Please go out with me?” That made Johnny laugh, the sound melodic in the quiet of your room. “I would have said yes, you know?” He spoke lowly, “I’ll miss your letters.” “What makes you think I will stop writing them?” “Because you can tell me all that stuff in person now when we go on dates.” “We’ll go on dates?” “That’s what people do when they like each other, princess,” Johnny chuckled, “And I really like you. Both as my secret admirer and my classmate.” “Oh my god stop,” you whined, hiding your hot face in his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden while Johnny was just laughing.

“I like you too,” you eventually mumbled once it had gotten quiet again. “I figured,” he teased you. “I changed my mind,” you immediately shot back, rising from where you were cuddled into his chest but every other protest died on your tongue when you saw his dreamy expression, his honey eyes finding yours and completely ignoring the fact that you were still very much naked. “Date me,” he said. “Okay,” you answered, easily meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that wouldn’t be the last one you two shared tonight.

“Hello and welcome back, that was Middle Of The Night by Monsta X, suggested to us by raibebe through our Twitter with the hashtag JonJaeLoveTalk. We’re your DJ’s John-D.” “And Jae-D on NCT Night Night. Hello again to all of our listeners. John-D.” “Yes Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Something is off today. I looked through our mail and there was no letter from your secret admirer.” “Oh really,” he feigned surprise. “Either they didn’t send anything in or our director got sick of the pining.” “I can calm you right back down Jae-D,” Johnny smiled, “Because she simply doesn’t need to send any more letters. I finally found her.” “No way. For real? And you didn’t tell me? I have to find out through our radio show? Friendship is dead,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Jae-D you know you’ll always be the number one in my heart, you know that.” At that Jaehyun let out fake gagging noises that made both friends chuckle.

“No but for real. I finally found her and asked her out. It’s going great so yeah,” Johnny shrugged, “In case you’re listening baby: I’m dropping by later and bring sushi.” “This is so domestic already,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically, “Where is my secret admirer?” “Maybe you could find love as well if you stopped acting like the textbook example of a frat boy.” “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Smiling, you leaned back on your sofa and listened to your boyfriend bickering with his best friend. Boyfriend. That sounded good even though it still felt unreal. Love Letters weren’t dead after all it seemed.

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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Spa Day

03/04/2021

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader Word Count: 7,559

Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff

A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.

This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.

You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.

One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.

Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.

“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.

“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.

“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”

He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.

“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.

“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.

“How can we help you today?”

She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.

Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.

You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.

“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”

She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.

Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.

“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.

You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.

Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”

“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.

“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.

“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”

Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.

If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.

Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.

“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”

You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.

“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.

“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.

It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.

The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.

The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.

Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.

“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.

Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.

Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.

With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.

After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.

You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.

Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.

“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.

“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”

“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”

That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”

You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.

Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.

It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.

He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.

With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.

It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.

“Miss?”

His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.

“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”

“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.

He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.

While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.

His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.

A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.

You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.

Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.

The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.

Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.

You open it...but he’s gone.

Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.

You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.

With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.

“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”

Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.

~~~~~~~~~~

You aren’t used to relaxation.

Not to this degree.

A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?

It’s too much!

You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.

As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.

As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.

This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.

Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”

Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.

It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.

“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”

Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.

“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”

“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.

You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.

“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.

Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.

The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.

He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.

What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.

Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…

He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”

You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.

“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.

“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”

“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.

This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.

“Oh?”

“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”

The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.

You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”

“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.

His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.

How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.

“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.

He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”

“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”

“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”

“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.

He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?

“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.

You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.

“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”

He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.

The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.

Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.

This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.

Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.

You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.

Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.

“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.

He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”

“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.

“I see,” your-the stranger says.

The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.

He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.

You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.

You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.

Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.

Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.

You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?

It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.

You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.

“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.

“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.

Letting her down without letting her down.

“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”

You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.

Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.

“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.

“Why?”

“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”

The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.

“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?

“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.

“No. Never.”

“But you’re so-”

“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.

The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”

It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.

“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.

He watches you, observing.

You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.

He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.

It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.

He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”

Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.

You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”

He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.

“But that’s not it?”

You look at him.

“There’s more to it?” he guesses.

You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.

“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.

He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.

“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.

“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?

“How were you forced to deal with that account?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.

“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.

“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”

“How?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.

“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.

“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”

His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.

“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.

“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.

“It makes me feel alone.”

You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.

“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.

“I understand.”

You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.

He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.

Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.

He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?

“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.

“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.

He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.

“A date?”

He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.

You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.

“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.

“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.

“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”

His smile is blinding.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”

You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.

The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.

“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”

“I do,” he nods.

Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.

“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”

It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.

Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.

“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.

His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.

“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?

Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”

Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.

“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”

“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”

He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.

Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.

As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.

It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.

A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.

“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.

“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”

The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.

“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”

The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.

“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.

He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.

“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.

You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.

Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.

You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.

“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.

“Should we get that one?”

“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.

You’re really very hungry.

“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”

“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.

“Two orders of those. And…”

“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.

She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”

While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.

“Can we have an order of the tuna?”

She nods.

“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.

“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”

“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.

She nods.

“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.

Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.

“Did we order too much?” you wonder.

“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.

“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”

“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”

He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.

You laugh, shaking your head.

He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.

You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.

He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”

Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”

“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”

There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.

You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.

“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”

Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.

But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.

“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”

Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”

“We could do that?” You gasp.

Clark just smiles wider.

“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”

“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.

After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.

“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.

Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”

Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.

“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.

“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.

As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.

“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.

“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.

“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.

“Definitely,” he says low and deep.

Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.

You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.

“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.

“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.

“Had you been to a spa like this before?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”

“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”

“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.

As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.

In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.

You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.

“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”

“Wait, us two-?”

“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.

You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.

“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.

Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.

“Bruce is your boss?”

Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.

Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.

“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”

“She did,” Clark nods.

“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.

A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.

“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”

“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.

“Yeah, they do,” he says.

“Bruce,” Clark chides.

“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.

“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.

“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.

Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?

You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.

“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”

You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.

“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.

It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.

“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.

He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”

You nod, “Tonight.”

He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.

You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.

“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”

“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.

“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.

“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”

As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark x reader #dceu fanfiction #dc fanfiction #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc oneshot

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thisismyhell · 3 years

Text

With you, Safely

Pairing: Hotch x reader (criminal minds) FLUFF :)

Summary: You have a stalker, and it just so happens the BAU is in the right place at the right time. Can Hotch make you feel safe in your stressful state?

Words: 5k

TWs: blaming yourself, a gun is mentioned, making out!!!!!

Being honest about your personal life was never your strong suit. You always had the habit of leaving out sometimes small, and sometimes big, details about your situation. Whether it was because you found it way too personal, or just simply forgot about the idea of telling someone. You knew that theoretically if the people in your life were good, they would be there for you. But, you also knew that you had some people in your life who were not so good, and the lines often blurred in your mind. So when you started getting anonymous threats sent to your workplace, it took you a while to come to terms with the fact that you should tell someone.

Taking your boss’s advice, you went to the police station. You have never had a reason to engage with a cop before, and if you were honest with yourself, you were not exactly thrilled at the concept. Especially under your circumstances. Not only did you hate the idea of talking about your personal life, but asking for actual help made you nauseous. It made you physically uncomfortable to put yourself out there like that, admitting to being vulnerable and not being able to take care of the situation quietly on your own. You understood that having threats sent to you like this was not a casual situation you could take care of, but you were still mentally trying to get out of this realization. Everything is fine if you just don’t talk about it, right?

“How can I help you today?” the receptionist asked, bringing you back into reality. “Um, sorry - I just..I think I may have a s-stalker? I don’t really know though, it might not even be that serious-”, “okay, what makes you think you have a stalker?” you were thankful she had taken the lead in this conversation. “Well, I-uh, I have been getting threats. Like, sent to my workplace? I don’t know, like, letters and packages from someone I don’t know. It might not be serious, my boss.. My boss just thought I should tell the police?” You were so uncomfortable, and the woman helping you could tell. “Alright well, how about you step into an office over here and we can take you information, and you can tell an officer everything you can. How does that sound?” Her kind eyes were easing your shoulders from their crunched up state. “That would be helpful, yes, t-thank you”. You followed her into an office where an officer wrote down everything you described to them.

Taking the bus back to your apartment, you felt some tension leave your body. It had been maybe 2-3 months of keeping this to yourself, and you finally had the energy to tell someone. Someone who could maybe actually put you at ease. You probably didn’t have a stalker, let’s be real. That stuff never happens in real life, the concept was so far away from being real to you. Exiting the bus you kept telling yourself everything would be fine, and this would blow over in a week. You walked up the steps to your one bedroom, and found a stack of mail at your doorstep. Picking it up and entering your home, and flipped through. A bill, some junk mail, and some letter with no return address on it. Actually, it just had your info and nothing else, not even a stamp. You put the rest of your mail down and opened the mysterious letter. Your heart sank when you realized what it was.

“Why did you have to tell them about us? Everything was going so well.”

That’s all it said inside the letter. You dropped it, and called the station asking for the officer you were just speaking to. They told you that you were lucky, because the FBI was in town that week and had just finished up another case. You were told they had some extra time on their hands, and you could come in tomorrow to speak with them. You sighed and agreed, hanging up in relief. This would blow over, everything would be just fine.

The BAU team was getting ready to head back to their hotel room when Hotch was pulled aside by an officer at the precinct they were working at. “Sir, I’m sorry to ask about this on your way out. But a woman came in earlier about a stalker sending threats to her workplace. We took her story and information, but she just called me back. She got a letter in the mail saying she shouldn’t have told the police. The guy knows where she lives”.

The team all gathered around the officer. Hotch reached out, “she came in today about this, and he escalated that quickly?”. “Wait, if she was here today, how did we miss her?” Reid probed. The officer shook his head, “the lady was so quiet, she seemed hesitant to even be here in the first place. As soon as she finished her side and said that was all she knew, she was gone. Quietest girl I’ve ever seen”. “She must not have thought it was serious,” commented Morgan.

“Sure, but a stalker rarely sends threats to the object of his desire without preparing for some kind of meeting. Officer, tell her to come back to the station and we can make a profile”. The officer told him she was already on the way, and she’d be there in less than an hour.

Feeling shook up, you entered the station for the second time that day. The receptionist recognized you, and walked with you to where the BAU team was working. You felt somewhat shameful that such a big deal was being made over you, but you had to keep reminding yourself that you were not safe in your own home at this time. So you swallowed your pride, and right when you were about to try and get their attention, a tall dark haired gentleman introduced himself. “Good evening, you must be y/n. You can call me Hotch, and this is my team-”, you listed as he told you everyone’s name, thankful for his close proximity to you. Sure it was cheesy, but having a man like Hotch around you made you feel safe. You looked up at him, “thank you all, really - you didn’t have to stay in town just for this”. Hotch cut you off, “Nonsense. We were already here, and having a stalker know where you live on top of where you work is not something to ignore. We will help create a profile for you, you might know who it is without realizing it. You nodded, realizing for the first time in the past 3 months just how tired you were of this. Hotch immediately picked up on your body language, leading you to where a couch was placed in the back of the room.

You sat down next to Reid, the young doctor. He smiled at you almost as awkwardly as you smiled at him. Feeling safe on the couch, you let yourself relax a bit more. The situation you had gotten yourself into was far from ideal, but at least now you weren’t alone in it. However selfish it made you feel, you were happier to be here with the overworked team instead of your lonely apartment. You looked around and it seemed like the entire BAU were trying to profile you. Maybe they were, it was their job of course. You made eye contact with Hotch, who nodded at you, giving you the opportunity to tell your side of things.

“It started 2 or 3 months ago when I got some letter delivered to me at work. It was weird since like, why would I get mail at work? But I opened it and it was just a description of what I looked like, like in a poem. But I googled it and it’s an original. I couldn’t find it anywhere. So that threw me off but I didn’t take it seriously. I work in retail, I see a million people every shift, you know? I thought it was just some guy who was into me and was weird about it. But then I started getting them more and more often, but just at work. I got sent pictures of myself, presents, and they never had return addresses. And they all had the same handwriting so it was easy to assume it was the same guy. But today...I got a letter to my apartment. To where I live...alone. That’s never happened”.

The team took in your words, looking like they had definitely seen this kind of thing before. Your gut had the mixed feeling of relief and worry. If they had seen this before they knew what to do, but that meant that they had to do something. Hotch looked at you, “luckily, we should be able to end this before he goes further. Can you tell us anyone in your life, no matter how small, that might want to hurt you, or even someone who holds some animosity towards you?”. You thought about it, and though you had a hunch, you were hoping it wasn’t true. “My..my ex boyfriend. I thought we ended things amicably, but I don’t think he ever got over it. I was hoping it wasn’t him”. The team all nodded, this was probably more common that you thought.

You stood up, “I’m sorry, I just need some air”. You stepped into the hallway for some quiet, when you heard the office door open and close behind you. You recognized his cologne, Hotch came out and stood in front of you. “I know how uncomfortable this situation must be. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable in the meantime?”. The man had the kindest eyes, even under his stern brows. You wondered if he practiced this expression, the perfect balance between intimidating and soft. You hoped you were that good and being readable, that way you wouldn’t have to open your mouth. Weirdly, the only thing you wanted in that moment was a coffee. Something to keep you warm and give you some much needed energy. Having yourself on display like this all day had been exhausting. You were amazed when Hotch spoke, “there’s a coffee place across the street. The machine in here is broken, thankfully. I’ll take you”. He gently hovered his hand on the small of your back, as if asking permission to guide you out of the building.

He walked you out, opening doors for you on the way. Walking into the shop with an FBI agent on your arm made you feel safe for the first time in a couple months. You weren’t one to rely on others in any capacity, but in that moment, you let yourself feel relaxed with the man’s presence. It was literally his job to keep you safe, and you’d be lying if that fact didn’t give you butterflies. You were a little too engulfed with taking him in that you didn’t notice he was speaking to you. “Sorry? I’m sorry, I must have zoned out, what were you saying?” you stammered, and he just looked down at you and smiled, repeating his question. “I was asking what you would like to drink? I assume coffee, but I wasn’t sure what your preference was”, he was smiling down at you, and you forgot about every type of coffee that has ever existed. “Oh! Um, a vanilla latte. But you don’t have to get it for me, I can take care of myself-” he cut you off with a single look. “Although I am more than sure you are capable of taking care of yourself, I would like to give you this one thing, if you’d let me”. You swallowed, “I guess- I guess I can let you do this one thing. For me. Thank you, sir”. He ordered your drinks and the two of you stood at the next counter waiting for them. Hotch quietly spoke to you, almost like it was just the two of you in the entire building, “as much as I appreciate the title, please call me Hotch”. You found yourself suppressing a giggle at the feeling of his voice so close to your neck, you were definitely not used to this level of attention. “Okay, Hotch it is”.

You grabbed your drinks, and he held the door open for you on the way out. He moved his hand from your back where you had gotten so used to it, and he walked right into the road. You watched as he lifted his hand, stopping traffic to let you cross alongside him. What you didn’t see, was Morgan looking out the window at you two, and beckoning the team to come see how Hotch was treating you. “Damn, he must really like coffee today”. Reid joined him at the window, “actually, Hotch always has a next level of confidence after a case ends well. Y/n must be his outlet for a good mood”. Rossi sat at his desk working on a file, “yeah.. Pretty nice outlet if you ask me”.

The two of you came back into the meeting room, and you couldn’t help the blush you felt when you noticed the team all glance at each other at the site of you two. This kind of attention was okay you thought, as long as he’s the source. Hotch pulled out a chair for you to sit next to him, and the team gathered at the meeting table.

After some deliberation, and completely downing your coffee, you all came to the conclusion that based on your ex’s habits and personality, it was almost definitely him. So you created a plan to lure him out and catch him in the act. Unfortunately for you however, this meant having to literally face your problem. The team seemed confident enough, but Hotch could feel your body stiffen at the thoughts running through your head. Since meeting you just a couple hours prior, it turned out he could read you like a book. You couldn’t tell yet, but he could. He caught your jaw tighten, and he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, “y/n, you do not have to do this. We can find another way if you cannot bring yourself to go through with this plan”. He was being kind, but you all knew that this was for the best. You softly grinned at him, “thank you, Hotch, but I can do this. I want to face him”. And with that, you all left to get into your various positions.

The plan was simple. In one of the letters you received, he stated that once you finally realized he was the one meant for you, you would get a table for two at the restaurant you had your first date, and you would prove to him you meant it by waiting for one whole hour, sitting there. Alone, while he supposedly watched you and your body language, and would then arrive. You would be wearing a wire, and once he started threatening you in person and possibly making a scene, the BAU would swoop in and save the day. You were confident in your role, not that you had to do much. You borrowed some date-type clothing from Emily, and you were now heading into the restaurant wearing your wire. You knew that this could all go horribly wrong, but hopefully whatever did happen, brought an end to your unhappiness.

Taking the 100th deep breath of the day, you told the hostess your party name and they sat you down at your table. Thankfully your waiter was in on what was going on, so they wouldn’t be asking you about food until your ex came and sat down. You felt so exposed, of course your table was in the dead centre of the restaurant. You weren’t aware of the agents stationed around you, Reid pointed out that if you knew too much then the stalker would be able to read your body language too well. So you say there, sucking on the ice cubes from your water knowing what a long night this was going to be.

“How are you feeling, y/n?” Hotch scared the daylights out of you, causing you to swallow your ice cube by accident. You gasped, but recovered smoothly. You kept your face as straight as you could without openly talking to yourself, “you scared me, I didn’t know you’d be on the other end of this thing”. You heard him softly chuckle, easing the tension. “Well, having you wired would be pretty useless if we couldn’t hear each other”. You smiled to yourself. Obviously he was right, but for some reason you just didn’t clue in that it could be him, out of everyone on the team, to be the one consoling you tonight. Maybe they were in on how he made you feel. Mentally thanking Hotch for his presence, “you’re right, how silly of me. Here I am feeling all alone in here without realizing who has my back”. There was a small pause on the other end before he replied, “you are far from alone in there, y/n”. You didn’t think it was possible given the circumstances, but you felt safe here in that moment too. You swore you could feel his physical presence even through the tiny earpiece.

Some time passed, and with talking as minimally as you could, you realized an hour was about to pass. Now you had to prepare yourself for the confrontation. You were fine, but emotionally and mentally, you were not thrilled for the exhaustion you knew you’d be feeling in the next few moments. Looking out the windows of the patio, you saw him. Walking oddly through the crowd to the front doors. You knew this was going to be some sort of confrontation, but honestly you didn’t think that far ahead of what you would be saying or doing. Sensing some heating tension between your ex and the hostess, you found yourself frozen to your spot. He was just supposed to come in, say his name and be escorted over, what was going on? The hostess knew what to do, so why was tension rising? “Hotch..” you whispered, trying to get his attention. You heard a very quiet “don’t move”, before seeing your ex flash a gun hidden in his waistband. If you weren’t frozen before, you sure were by now. He hadn’t seen you yet, which was good. Maybe they’ll get to him before he gets to you. Slowly standing up from your seat with no intention to do anything but drop dead, you felt yourself taking a step towards him. You didn’t know why but something inside you told you that this whole thing was a mistake, and whatever was about to happen was your own fault, and you needed to stop it. You could talk to him and calm him down, that’s what your whole relationship was based on anyway. He just needed to be with you, and he would stop the hostility.

As you were taking your third step in his direction, Hotch stepped in front of you, holding out the side of his jacket to stop your ex from seeing you. You felt his other arm ghost around your waist, his cologne seeping into the dress you borrowed. “Don’t let him see me..” you whispered. “I won’t let him do anything to you, y/n”. You let Hotch take the lead and guide you into the kitchen, out of harm's way. You didn’t realize you were quietly crying until you were standing against the cool tile wall, and Hotch brushed a tear away with his thumb. He went to leave, presumably to help arrest the man who was going to kill you. Before he could take another step, you grabbed his hand more forcefully than you thought you had the strength to. “Please, don’t leave me”. Hotch saw the pleading look in your eyes, and leaned into his phone, “take care of it, Morgan”. You let yourself quietly cry against the wall, facing Hotch. You were so incredibly embarrassed, this was all your fault. You should have realized who your stalker was immediately and squashed this whole problem by yourself. The fact that someone was being arrested right now because of you, made you sick. Sure, it was in order to keep you safe, but you still felt like a burden. The FBI shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t have happened.

Hotch couldn’t bring himself to just stand there and watch you fall apart, so he put his arms around you, gently squeezing you enough to make you feel present. You let yourself get your tears on his uniform, it was just something else to apologize for later. You almost collapsed, having all this mental weight pulling you down to the ground. Before you could fall, Hotch steadied you, pressing you against the wall in his hug to get you more grounded. The feeling of the cold tile against the back of your neck helped center you. Hotch let you go slowly, testing to see if you would stay standing without him. It tore him up inside seeing cases like these, and yours was no different. Now letting you stand on your own, the two of you held eye contact. “Y/n, you are safe. You never have to see him again. He cannot hurt you. He can’t hurt you anymore”. It was like he was saying it to the both of you as a mantra, getting you to feel okay and safe, and to bring him back to reality. He wanted to keep you safe, to open every door for you and stop traffic for you. Bring you coffee whenever you asked and even when you didn’t. He wanted you to understand how important you were, and how this was not your fault. He knew you blamed yourself, he could see it in your face and in your tears.

You weren’t crying anymore, but you were exhausted. You wanted Hotch to just pick you up and take you home, take you anywhere but here. There was something in his demeanor that made you feel like a flower next to him. This big FBI agent, holding you up against the wall making sure you don’t fall over. You were almost killed tonight and all you could think about was just how strong Hotch was. Not to mention how good he smelled. He moved his grip from around your shoulders, down to around your waist. He pulled you into another deep embrace, this one feeling more personal. You had your arms around him but under his jacket, letting it fall around the two of you. You pulled away at the same time, and you muttered a small “thank you”.

He towered over you, and he still had a concerned look in his eyes. You could tell he wanted to say something, so you nodded to try and get it out of him. “We both know you are safe now. That man is going back to the police station to be processed as the criminal he is..” he stopped, but you knew he wasn’t finished. You let him breath before continuing, “y/n, you live alone and today your life was threatened. You deserve to sleep somewhere tonight where you do not have to worry about a single thing”. He was right. You wanted to stay awake all night, knowing the moment you’d step back into your apartment you’d feel like you were in a cage. Your parents lived just outside the city, maybe you could have a police escort. But it was so late, and you hated the idea of waking up your parents just to baby you tonight. You knew exactly where you wanted to be, but how can you ask an FBI agent to extend his duties into watching over you through the night? All these thoughts raced through your mind in the second it took Hotch to open his mouth again, “I have an idea but the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured into saying yes, or scaring you off”. Now you were interested, the evening seemed to be playing out in your favour afterall. He continued, “y/n, the team and I are staying at the hotel downtown. I would be more than happy to pull some strings, and say we need an extra room for the night. We leave in the morning, but you’d be on a floor filled with FBI agents”. You accepted the offer maybe a little quickly, but thankfully he wasn’t put off with your enthusiasm. You leaned in again and held his suit collar, “thank you, Hotch. All I want is to feel safe tonight”. Looking up at him, a million thoughts crossed your mind all at once. You wanted to hire this man as your personal bodyguard. With the look you saw in his eye, he might even say yes. The next few moments were only seconds apart, but they felt like an eternity. Hotch placed his hands around your jaw, tilting your head up towards him. He looked at you with ocean’s in his eyes and whispered again like you were the only two in the entire building, “I can keep you safe, y/n”, before leaning in and giving you a kiss so grounding you swore he had you in the palm of his hand.

“Guys, we’re good let’s head back - “ Morgan cut himself off when he saw Hotch removing his hands from you. Hotch cleared his throat, “y/n will be staying at the hotel with us tonight. I don’t think it would be wise for her to go back home alone”. You were hoping Morgan couldn’t see you holding on to Hotch’s forearm like your life depended on it. He got the idea, and the 3 of you left in the SUV back downtown.

Once you entered the lobby, the team went up to their rooms as Hotch took you to the front desk. He enquired about getting an extra room just for you, and the manager handed you your key for the night. Slowly making your way up to the shared floor, you started to digest all the events that happened during your day. You almost got lost in your own brain, but Hotch pulled you back out when he placed his hand on the small of your back with confidence, leading you out into the hallway. You found your room, just a couple door’s down from where Hotch said he was. You were excited to be staying in a fancy hotel, even for just one night. As much as you wanted Hotch to come in with you, you knew he was technically still at work. But once again as if he could read your mind, Hotch was the one to open your door and see you inside safely. You took in your room. It was gorgeous with a king bed and a view for days. Putting your things down on the bed, you looked to Hotch, who seemed to be fidgeting slightly. He had been so confident in front of you all day, what was making him act like that?

“Is there anything else you need? I’d be happy to get anything-”, “thank you Hotch, really. But I have everything that I need right here in this room”. You gave him another soft smile, and you went to see him out. Your door was still closed, and Hotch was reaching to open it. He turned back around to you without realizing how close you were standing behind him. “If you change your mind, I’m just a couple doors down. I don’t sleep much, so it won’t be hard to get me”. You thought to yourself and spoke, “actually, I don’t sleep much either. I’ve had insomnia since I was a child”.

“Really?” he asked you, returning a smirk. “Really”, you offered. You moved around him and leaned against the door, wanting to continue the conversation. Hotch took another guess at what you wanted, and he slowly pressed himself against your small frame, holding you in place. You let out a small sigh, showing him you didn’t mind at all. He took your waist in his hands for the second time that evening, and placed his lips against yours. He kissed you so softly and so gently, you thought you were going to float away. And his grip on you said he felt the same way. Digging his fingers harder into your waist asking permission to deepen the kiss, you granted him access. You opened your mouth to heat the moment, and Hotch was thrilled. He was pressing you into the door like he was afraid you’d otherwise fall through the floor. You were on your tiptoes kissing him and he wouldn’t let you feel any of your weight. You were completely pinned, and you loved it. You felt so secure between him and the door, knowing you were not going anywhere without him guiding you there first. He was protecting you with everything he could, never allowing you to go more than a split second without having his mouth on you.

If the two of you couldn’t sleep, you wouldn’t mind being pinned all night long. Hotch was huge, towering over you from the moment you met. But he had the softest eyes you’d ever seen. He was kissing you like it was keeping you alive, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. You were gripping his shirt in your fists, seeing what he would allow you to do under his restrictions. He let you run your hands all over him, encouraging him to do the same to you. The two of you broke away at the same time for air. He looked down at you like you could break if he said the wrong thing. “If this is helping at all, I can stay longer if you need me-” you answered the lame question with a sloppy kiss on his neck, “Hotch, please stay with me”. With that, he gathered you in his arms and brought you to the bed.

_______________________

should i do a part 2??

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #reader insert #hotch x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #fluff #criminal minds fluff #derek morgan #emily prentiss

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mitsungo · 3 years

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We are already this far! And this has turned into more of an Akaza x reader story 🌸 I’m sorry Kyo— for now it’s just Akaza, patience, patience. Plz excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes! I’m on vacation right now and I have been adding to this when I get inspired! The next part will be the last part which I hope to finish by Sunday! Because we need closure! No cliffhangers! Not here! 🍡 Enjoy for now! Also time is like super super uh 😵‍💫 just stick with the plot okay! 😭

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ❄️ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Y/n was currently working on a kimono, the client was none other Kocho Shinobu, the insect hashira. It was daytime, so Akaza wasn’t able to be visit her, though he wish he could. He was currently down in the cellar of the mansion. Waiting for Y/n to signal him that sundown was already here. Shinobu was a very good friend of Y/n’s, and she personally would check up on her and the baby. Or babies, as Y/n would put it. Something in her told her that she were going to have twins. It was a gut feeling.

“Y/n, you really shouldn’t overwork yourself. Your body is turning very weak lately, I fear that you will fall ill if you continue working yourself too much.” Shinobu said to her one day when she came to check how Y/n was doing. “I won’t fall ill Shinobu-chan. Don’t worry so much, I’m a strong woman. I can handle this. Come now, sit down with me.” Y/n said softly, patting a spot next to her. Shinobu frowned slightly with concern. “Don’t be worried. Like I said, I am fine. Shine me a beautiful smile would you? I hate seeing a frown on your face! It disheartens me!” Y/n teased Shinobu, letting out a small giggle as Shinobu shaked her head with a smile.

It had passed around six months now, and y/n was getting sicker by the day. Her body was very frail and sickly, she couldn’t really walk around anymore either without help. Her aunt and uncle refused to leave her alone anymore but she would tell them that she needed to be alone sometimes. Senjuro and Shinjuro would come around and visit Y/n often, Senjuro more worried about Y/n’s health than anything else. Mitsuri and Shinobu would drop by too, especially Shinobu who would give Y/n medicine to help with her health and pain that she would have at times. Akaza on the other hand would visit rarely for personal reasons as he told y/n. She didn’t argue, as her energy didn’t allow her to do so. But when Akaza did visit, he would hold her and make sure she had water nearby and the medicine Shinobu gave her. Everyone, including Akaza agreed that y/n should not continue working on anymore kimonos or anything that requires work. Y/n also didn’t argue, since she was too tired to even try and everyone would notice it too.

“Y/n? Dear? You have a letter from Tanjiro-kun!” Her aunt said behind the door. Y/n immediately stopped reading the book she had in her hands. Her aunt slid open the door and gently put the letter down next to her futon. “You finished your tea already. I’ll go brew you some new tea for later.” She told y/n, picking up the tray and leaving the room quietly. Y/n smiled softly, grabbing the letter and opening it. Kamado Tanjiro, he was a very kind and gentle boy that Kyojuro had met during his hashira meeting and his last mission. Tanjiro had come by one day to deliver some last words from Kyojuro to y/n, which made her burst out into tears, then proceeding to grasp Tanjiro into a hug, causing the young boy to cry as well. Ever since that day, the both of them wrote frequently to one another, with y/n telling him about her pregnancy, wishing him luck on his missions and other things. Tanjiro would write about his missions, or his day, or how Zenitsu and inosuke missed her and how much he loved reading about how y/n and the babies were doing. Another point to y/n on how she knew she was going to have twins, when Tanjiro visited her one day during her early months of pregnancy, he assured her that she was having twins. Still, no one believed the two, though Zenitsu too assured her that she was pregnant with twins.

A few days later, Tanjiro and Nezuko had stopped by to pay a visit to Y/n. It had been around two weeks since they had last seen her, and Tanjiro was dying to speak to her. As Tanjiro and Nezuko walked to her residence, he couldn’t help but think about how much of a mother figure y/n was to him and Nezuko. She reminded him of his mother, her gentle and soft spoken nature caused him to think of his mother when y/n spoke or laughed. When she hugged him the first time they met, Tanjiro was left in a state of shock, the warmth was that of a mother, a loving and kind embrace. They both arrived in front of the mansion and immediately saw the gate open. It was Y/n’s aunt.

“Oh! Tanjiro-kun! Nezuko-chan! Good timing! I just brewed Y/n some tea! Come in! Come in my dears!” Her aunt waved, yanking Tanjiro and Nezuko in before they could even greet her. “Thank you very much Mrs. L/n!” “I told you to call me aunt! We are like family now! Don’t be shy dear!” Mrs. L/n giggled, putting a hand over her mouth, her eyes closed. “Ah yes sorry Mrs— erm auntie.” How much he missed visiting the L/n residence.

“She’s in her room! You know where it is darlings!” Aunt L/n said, before leaving to go get the tea. “Come on Nezuko, let’s go see Y/n!” Tanjiro grabbed Nezuko’s hand and they both quickly made their way to her room. “Y/n.” Nezuko softly said. “Yeah that’s right—!” The doors to y/n’s room slid open, interrupting Tanjiro. “Tanjiro. Nezuko. I’m so happy to see you both again.” Y/n smiled softly, her arms wrapping themselves around the siblings. Tanjiro’s eyes widened, “You can’t be up mother!” He quickly realized what he said, his face flushed red with embarrassment. Y/n laughed weakly, still hugging the two siblings.

After getting settled and drinking some tea, y/n pulled a small box out from her drawer. “I want to give you both something. As you both have been very kind to me, my family and my children.” Y/n said, pulling out two small handkerchiefs, one patterned like Tanjiro’s haori and the other like nezuko’s kimono. Y/n handed them to the two siblings, Tanjiro bowed his head, taking the piece of cloth and looking at it closely. It was a snowy mountain, it reminded him of his home, the snow, the trees, the grey sky. Y/n was taken by surprise when Tanjiro embraced her, tears falling from his eyes. “I’m—.” Tanjiro started but was cut off by y/n embracing him back tightly, Nezuko joining in, both children nuzzling themselves into Y/n’s hug. “You both, are one of the many greatest treasures blessed to me. I am so glad to have two wonderful children like you both.” Y/n said in between tears, Tanjiro looked up at her, a warm gentle smiling adoring her face as tears fell from her eyes. The two of them cried softly, Nezuko blinking in surprise at why her two favorite people were crying.

When Akaza arrived later that day, y/n was a bit shocked but she quickly welcomed him into her room. Akaza went to give her an embrace but he stopped midway. She smelt different, and it irritated him. Just who the hell was she seeing during the day? He had gotten familiar with a few scents, her aunt, her uncle, three friends that she refused to give the names of, but these two new scents were just unbearable, he had smelt one of them somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember from where. Y/n picked up on his new mood and looked down slightly, preferring not to say anything, as Akaza could easily get annoyed when he is in deep thought. Y/n sighed, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, a wave of pain hit her like a rock, she didn’t know what it was but it was almost as if it was a cramp. She let out a small gasp, covering her mouth quickly so Akaza couldn’t hear her, but Akaza had noticed and was already by her side.

“What’s wrong Y/n? What hurts? Tell me! Where is the medicine? Come on! It has to always be near you! You know this!” He cried, looking around for the medicine Shinobu had given to y/n for pain. “It’s in the cabinet. Top shelf.” Y/n replied, putting her hand on her stomach. As Akaza was looking for her medicine, she started to hum a tune, rubbing her stomach to soothe the babies down. “On wintery days, up on the snowy hills, a house not far from the village—.” A few small kicks from her stomach caused y/n to stop singing. She was surprised, her babies have never kicked once. Akaza froze immediately at how silent the room had become, he swiftly took the medicine and was by y/n’s side in less than a few seconds. “What happened?” He questioned, glancing back and forth at her and her stomach. “The babies, just kicked me.” Y/n answered, tears brimming from her eyes. Akaza was in shock, his eyes moved to look at y/n’s, she looked back at him, her eyes now sparkling like the stars. “Akaza-kun, I want you to know something.” Y/n started, picking up his hand and moving it towards her stomach, placing it on top. “I might die, giving birth to the babies. But it is worth my own life, as any other mother would do the same for their children. These babies, will have a life worth living, they will be able to experience what it is to grow, to love and to cry. Even though, their parents won’t be around.” Akaza’s eyes widened at her words, how could she calmly say such things? Does she not fear death? Why is that? How is that possible? No, he could not let her die, not when she had children to live for. “You can not die. You must not die!” He cried, gripping her hands tightly, causing her to flinch and look at him with surprise. “These children, can not live without a parent! They need you! Their mother! Their mother is most important person in the world! That is why you can not die! Their fathers may not be alive when they are born and when they grow up! But they will have you! And you will tell them all about their fathers, their lives and their wills! So you have to promise me….” He paused, staring intently into y/n’s eyes, who’s eyes have started to spill more tears. “…you have to promise me that you will live! For you! And for our children!” Akaza yanked y/n into a kiss, he could not be able to cry one single tear, as much as he wished he could, but y/n knew this, as she was crying much more now. “I will have to leave you. This is my last visit. I only wish. We could have spent much more time together. If only then…if only, no, this is how it must be. I’m sorry. I—.” The words wouldn’t come out of his mouth, he couldn’t say it, he didn’t have the courage to do so. Y/n gently gripped his hands, bringing them up to her heart. Akaza stared in awe, as y/n’s tears finally stopped.

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t they just be together a bit more? Was it too much to ask for? He was going to be a father, after all these years, and yet he had to leave it all behind. His little affair with Y/n, his own child, his love, his kindness, his warmth, it would be all gone. All of this happiness will disappear after he leaves, after he steps foot out of her mansion, the final battle was approaching, and y/n knew it too. Why was the world like this? No, he had a role to fulfill, he must continue fighting, no matter the cost. Akaza was a demon, he ate and murdered humans. He was a monster, a very strong monster too, yet this woman who someone managed to entangle with his emotions, caused him to see beauty in the world just for a little bit. The woman who’s fiancé he had killed with his own hands, he took her only happiness away and still she found new happiness with him. And now, with twins on the way, she would be happy even more. How beautiful. Akaza felt himself stand up with y/n by his side, going near the window in the room, they stood in front of it, hands intertwined together. She kissed the knuckles of his hands, and opened her mouth,

“You are one of the most understanding, kind, respectful and wonderful persons I have ever met in my life. I am thankful for having such a sweet person with me for this long. I owe you so much Akaza-kun. So please take care of yourself.” She reached her hand out towards his cheeks, his eyes widening with confusion, her smile, was the most genuine he had ever seen on a person throughout his entire life as a demon. “Fight with honor, and do the best you have ever done in your entire life, as this is the last blessing I will give you…” Y/n’s hands fell to her sides, her eyes glimmering with passion and determination. He knew this was it, this was their last day together. As he jumped from her window, into the garden, and onto the fence. He looked back one more time to see her, just to see her before he left for good, his heart aching as he heard her words slip from her mouth.

“Akaza-kun. I love you too.”

#demon slayer #fanfic #akaza kimetsu no yaiba #akaza x reader #akaza x you #writing

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asexual-abomination · 3 years

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Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 1

This is largely self indulgent writing, as I know that very little of this niche exists, if any. The reader here is largely based on myself and my own thoughts of the world, but I hope others enjoy my writing. I have no formal education in writing, so if you have any advice for my writing style, please feel free to send it in.

This idea was largely inspired by the lovely @kiame-sama, who wrote this concept with a romantically yandere Chrollo, though I am aro-ace and changed it just slightly for my own writing. I hope to continue this series with more parts, but they may not all follow the same story thread.

This part just includes the body swap.

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You were never going to make the best impression on your soulmate. Or at least, you could never make the best impression on their friends, and that was what mattered largely to you. Talking to people would never be your strong suit, but at least on your end you had many months and other friends to keep your soulmate entertained. Waking up in a stranger's body, talking to other strangers about all details of their life? Horrible.

It should have been a comfort that there was a small yellow flower tattooed just below the date on your back, indicative of a platonic soulmate, but the idea that you would likely be expected to spend time not just with your soulmate, but with their friends as well threw you off so incredibly. Your soulmate would surely need the patience of a saint to deal with you, at least according to most people you speak with about your soulmate.

Your preparations for the switch were over now, all things embarrassing put away for now, some good food prepped, and a letter you had written taped to the inside of your bedroom door. For now, you were going over the final rules for your friends who were under strict instructions of exactly what they could and could not speak about with your soulmate. Even though they chuckled under their breath about your extreme caution, at this point you had to trust that they would follow what you said, since your switch was just minutes away.

Your closest friend, Jo, assured you that they would keep the rest in line. Knowing their authoritative personality and intimidating aura, you were much more reassured that things would go well. Even as you got up to leave, they were giving everyone their famous evil eye to keep them quiet.

Heading into the bedroom, you laid down, only to realize that your breathing was coming short and there seemed to be not enough air getting in your lungs. Were you seriously having a panic attack just before your switch? You tried to calm yourself with the breathing exercises you had been taught, but there was little you could do, which only made your panic grow faster.

You had only seconds to spare, and the reality of the situation hit you with the force of a freight train. Keeping your eyes open, you took one deep breath to hope you wouldn't ruin everything on the spot.

Everything changed in an instant, the position of your body, the tension of your muscles, the temperature and smell of the room. And the last thing to hit you, the fact that your soulmate decided to switch while driving on a highway.

Internally, you felt a massive surge of panic, outweighing the mild anxiety you had been feeling by a landslide. Until you realized that the body you were in appeared to be functioning on its own.

It was common knowledge that during the switch, there was no change to the body's ability to understand and speak languages, though you wondered if you were among the first to find the same thing applied to driving skills.

Slowly, you brought your breathing back to a calm, knowing that a meltdown right now could spell things much worse than humiliation. Once you felt ready enough that you wouldn't cry the second anything moved a moment to fast, you looked up to the rearview mirror to take in the inhabitants of the car.

Seeing the body you were in -- your soulmate -- was jarring, but he didn't appear immediately scary in the mirror. He had slicked black hair, wide eyes the color of granite, and wore a black trench coat with white fur that was open to show his bare chest underneath. But your attention was quickly drawn from his reflection to the fact that there were others accompanying you in this car.

Sat next to you in the passenger's seat was a woman with bright pink hair and a stony face, staring straight ahead at the road, who didn't appear to have noticed that there was any difference in her driver's behavior. Taking up the back seats were three men, one blond with a babyish smile, another blonde much taller than the first with a toughened look about himself, and a man with long black hair tied back looking grumpily out of his side window. All of them gave off intimidating vibes, almost putting you off of speaking at all.

After a few moments of quiet driving, it became apparent to you that these people weren't going to notice you until you spoke up. You were grateful for the time to prepare your first words, but with the menacing energy all these people gave off, you had to put your minimal understanding of conversation to its maximum.

"Ah... This wasn't quite what I was expecting..." Not the best opening line, but at least you had begun to announce your presence.

It was the pink-haired woman next to you who first responded with a questioning hum.

"I'm not sure who this is, but whoever they are, I'm their soulmate." That seemed to incite a reaction from the entire car.

"Soulmate!?" The black haired man jumped from his position, his grumpy mood dissipated and replaced with confusion mixed with excitement. The two other men were looking between themselves, while the woman's face somehow got even tougher, glaring towards you with something that you assumed was suspicion.

"Hah... I'm about as surprised as you are!" You tried to add some joy to your tone, hoping that matching their excitement would somehow dispel the situation faster. However, they continued to glare at you, and you began to wish that you could sink away into the seat, though there was very little that would help with at this point.

It's almost deathly quiet in the car for just a few moments, before all hell breaks loose. The others in the car were yelling questions at you, and yelling in general at each other.

"Would you lot calm down!?" The woman seemed to be your ally here, "If you keep this act up, we're gonna scare his soulmate off before the switch is even over!"

"Why wouldn't the boss have told us about his switch? This isn't like him in the slightest!" The black-haired man was clearly upset, though you weren't sure if he was angry at 'the boss' or at you.

The woman hushed him by saying that 'the boss' likely meant this as a test, which only served to confuse your perception of these people further. After a few moments of whispering between themselves, they finally turned back to you.

"So, who are you?" The rougher looking blond asked, not exactly setting a good tone.

It took you a few moments to even notice that he had even spoken to you, as the realization that your soulmate made seemingly no preparations for your switch hit you hard. Even though the day he would switch with you was embedded on his body, he had let you wake up in some random moment of his life, while you had spent months working around this day to get the best outcome possible.

"My name is (Y/N)," you introduced yourself carefully, not quite sure if you wanted to give your full name away to these people, "And who might you be?"

The four looked between themselves, completely ignoring your question. "No-one we know by that name."

They went further into their suspicious act, but were kind enough to also give their own first names before continuing their own interrogation. It was the baby-faced boy in the backseat, Shalnark, who asked the majority of the questions, he seemed to be very pushy and tricked you into giving answers multiple times.

The conversation was very one-sided, as you tried every trick you had ever been taught for keeping interactions equal, only to eventually realize that all four of them were working against you, using tactics for talking that you had never thought of before.

You were quick to become frustrated with their incessant questions. There were no spaces for the others to talk, leaving you feel like bug under a microscope as they stared at you. Eventually, it seemed that they were happy with the information they had gotten from you, which was a lot, including the full name you hadn't wanted to give them earlier, your home nation and your line of work.

Whoever these people were, they were good at interrogation, Shalnark especially good at tricking you with simple questions that he insinuated much greater answers from, which worried you for what these people could do for a living. If your soulmate was their boss, could he be even better at this type of talk? You didn't think you could handle conversations with a man that potentially intelligent.

Now that they were being less interrogating, you tried to take the opportunity to add your own questions, but you could only glean a few things from the way they answered. For one thing, the highway that you were currently on was on the same continent that you lived on, but a few countries over. For another, there were many more members of this group that worked for your soulmate.

Asking questions about your soulmate got a strange reaction each time, all of the passengers of the car taking a moment to look between themselves before giving you vague answers. His name was Chrollo, and as their boss, they didn't feel it was right to tell you too much about him, or so they said. You found that he was well-read, though they still refused to tell you much about precisely what he read.

It felt useless to try and pursue the conversation further, as you were nowhere near their level of smarts in conversation. To try and alleviate some of the tension you were feeling, you attempted to bring up lighter topics, asking them for funny stories, which they somewhat complied with. Although their style of telling stories seemed odd to you, as they left out a lot of details without prompting, but you were at least happy that the focus was off of you.

They told you stories of traveling around the world, and how they saw some of the worlds most gorgeous sights and expensive luxuries nearly everyday. You had to assume that they were embellishing most of it, but they made their lives sound rather fun, and you wondered if your own friends were giving Chrollo anywhere near as good an impression back home.

It had to have been at least an hour before another fear hit you, one that plagued you nearly everyday. From your perspective, everything was going well, they were laughing and telling stories not just to you but with each other, which indicated that they were happy with how how you acted. However, the fear that plagued you from inside told you that they weren't happy, that you had done something wrong and now they were laughing at you. Looking back on every word you had spoken, you felt almost physically sick, seeing every flaw in your word choice and tone in hindsight.

The passengers were looking and laughing between themselves and talking, so they didn't notice right away that there were tears gathering in your eyes, for which you were grateful. Just as suddenly as you were sat there, surrounded by happy voices with tears in your eyes, you were back home, sat amongst your own friends, who laughed perhaps even louder.

Once you came to and realized that you were no longer driving, and in fact were sitting on your own couch with your own friends, the tears really started to run. The letter that you had spent so much time carefully writing was clutched hard in your hand, but not so much that it would crumple or bend.

You quickly stood while mumbling an excuse, rushing to your room as your friends called after you. It felt odd to be back in your own body, the smells and sounds of everything hitting you horribly clearly. There was very little you could do to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed.

Your friends had already been prepared for what to do if you were overwhelmed coming back from your switch, but that didn't stop their concern for the way you were acting.

"Hey, (Y/N)? You okay in there?" Jo's voice came through the door, and you were grateful that your closest friend was here for you. "The others are all gonna start heading home now, but I'm gonna stick around. I don't want you to feel alone at the moment."

With a quick confirmation from you from behind the door, Jo headed to get some rest in the living room. Practically falling into your bed, you pulled the weighted blanket you had gotten as a gift over yourself, staring up at the ceiling as all of the feelings of excitement and fear finally crashed down on you.

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Thanks for reading!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #chrollo #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo #phantom troupe #machi komachine #phinks magcub #shalnark ryusei #nobunaga hazama #self insert #self ship #soulmate au #body swap #autistic reader #gender neutral y/n

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ccaptain · 2 years

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in their last exchanged letter, he wrote, verbatim: i can’t wait to meet you. you are an interesting fellow, and tomorrow is our first time seeing eachother, dear penpal of mine. remember: if you’re unsure of what to say, follow my lead.

it just seems right that, after what seemed like piles and piles of paper correspondence, they finally get to see eachother’s faces. something that kaeya seems magnetically attracted to is chaos, and even the thick writing of the other man -- no, his friend and ally by now, childe, exudes confidence and danger at every syllabe; even if the plan was ultimately foiled, the man had managed to summon a god out of slumber. even the always unimpressed kaeya had to admit that it was not a small feat. and his file...

TARTAGLIA: 11TH OF THE FATUI HARBINGERS, camps in bold letters over the plico of informations he plucked and heard from the man’s adventures. to keep the knight’s spirits high that their cavalry captain was monitoring such a dangerous foe. for every place he has seen, there was murder and bloodshed, and normal people cowered at the mention of his name. how amazing is their captain, that his intel is so vast! how brave is their captain, that he has arranged the meeting’s seatings to have such a powerful enemy, the loose cannon, sitting beside himself to keep an eye on the danger! his man sang their praises high in the sky, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

if only they knew...

‘ captain kaeya! ‘ a knock at the door of his office. ‘ the harbinger and his following have arrived, are you ready? ‘

‘ almost, ‘ he replies, eye going to the mirror; for the occasion, he has worn his white suit, only to be used for diplomatic affairs -- leaving an ample window to show his chest, with a cold metal chain keeping the collar close, and donning a blue rose with two white feathers over his heart. navy hair have been mussled up for the occasion to have more volume, fur hanging off his left shoulder and down the cape he sports. a dab behind both ears and over his pulse of musky perfume, and he considers himself preened enough to come out.

the knight seems relieved when he opens the door, nodding and executing the usual Knightly salute. ‘ you look sharp as ever, captain, ‘ and he pretends not to notice how eyes fall to exposed skin, are people not even allowed to look?, ‘ and remarkably relaxed, if i can say. ‘

‘ i’m confident that this meeting will go well, ‘ the captain replies, smug smile on his face. ‘ i can safely handle any diplomat, except for signora. ‘

‘ ugh, ‘ the poor man shivers deeply, looking afraid. ‘ of course you couldn’t stand her either! but you handled her very well, sir kaeya, worry not. ‘

he knows he did. despite being an ally of hers in the deepest sense of the world, the woman was insufferable; criticized his choice of clothes with a smirk, criticized his seating arrangement, sneered at the food presented to her despite knowing that he worked hard to find out her food preferences -- and criticized the city, calling it a ‘rathole’ and sharply walking away on her heels, declaring herself disappointed.

though, he had to give it to her: if there was somebody who could act extremely well, it was her. it wasn’t less infuriating, considering her acidic personality. with her gone, there was more room for change.

‘ thank you so kindly. alright, ‘ kaeya took the folder from under his arm, quill in his hand. ‘ we have everything ready, yes? the seating arrangement, the buffet, comfortable couches to rest on, hmm... yes, everything in order. they won’t complain this time. ‘

the more steps they took to approach the meeting room, the more he could feel abyssal energy pull -- pull to find familiar spark, trying to latch on the same being as he was, home -- the more he had to focus back on the ordeal. he heard the knight say something to him and he nodded, reaching for the doorknob to pull the wood parting him from his penpal open.

the tug at his heart wasn’t imaginary; when eye landed on the eyepatch of his, he had to minutely fight down the urge to itch his breath in empathy.

it’s not like he didn’t knew -- it had been said, but to feel the sicklish energy, to see a covered curse point...

even a rock could have seen the myriad of emotions behind undulling diamond, a spark blossoming into the iris. pain, sympathy, longing to soothe, curiosity -- and, most of all, equalship. even in eyepatches, they matched.

the soft sigh of fondness he exhaled could have been mistaken for exasperation, if knowing eyes weren’t keen.

‘ good morning to you all, ‘ he nodded, polite and charming smile in place at the men donning furs and masks. ' i'm sure you will all long for a good day of resting, but boring, teeth-pulling bureoucracy is in order, i fear. to make up for the wasted time, we have organized a buffet and comfortable seating for your needs. if you have any other requests, do not hesitate to ask to my knights -- they'd be happy to provide. now, let me greet your harbinger, secondly. i have neglected him quite enough. '

well, not exactly happy. obligated, though, was the correct word. he took a deep dose of fun from the panicked face of his men -- this wasn't scripted, and he knew it.

when he approached the ginger man, warm hand extended affably, lips curling into a soft smile. ' lord tartaglia, ' he called him, so politely. ' you have been the talk of teyvat for quite some time. honored to meet you -- i'm kaeya alberich, mondstadt's cavalry captain, and i took the liberty of taking this matter out of grand acting master jean to see you personally. you're an interesting fellow, ' he gave childe the same phrase of his letter, head tilting and lashes batting, the twinkle in pale blue diamond shimmering in amusement. ' i do hope of being to your liking? '

#11fatui #Determinator at all costs -- (Abyss Soulmates V.)#SLAPS ROOF. LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #CONSISTENCY BABEY. WE'RE GONNA DO IT ALL OR WERE GONNA DIE TRYING I FUCKING GUESS #*DIES*

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

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it’s been a long, long time | bucky barnes

word count; 5,808

summary; you’re preparing to spend christmas alone, not expecting your soldier to make it home to you in time.

notes; this is a forties bucky fic, and it’s out of the normal mcu world, so he never falls off of the train, etc. he was just a prisoner of war. inspired by this song, take a listen, you’ll recognise it.

warnings; injury, reference to human experimentation, reference to death.

Staring blankly at the letter on the table, you ran your finger over the corner of the paper. The last letter signed from your lover, dated over fourteen months ago, a sigh on your lips, and the burning in your eyes came springing back to remind you of the tears threatening to fall once again.

The box beside you sat open, several other pieces of paper spread out around you, the fire in the corner crackling weakly and you thought maybe you should get up and put another log on it, but you just didn’t have the energy. Your cheeks were stinging, skin raw and eyes puffy and red, your throat raw from sobbing, choking back your cries, although you were all burned out by now.

It had been three years since you had shipped your lover off to the war, a kiss on his lips and a smile on his face as he was taken off to lead the 107th into battle. You’d written him every week, sending your letters to wherever he was, his own coming back to you in bountiful return, and you’d collected every single one in a box that you kept under your bed, close to your heart, to remember him forever.

The clothes he’d left with you had lost their smell years ago, and as of a few months ago, the boxes form his apartment had been sent to you. You’d spent a week straight with his sisters and his mother, sorting through everything, comforting one another when that news had finally come.

You’d known something had been wrong the moment it had been over two weeks since you’d heard from the man you loved, that something must have happened, the trenches expanding, taking him closer to the front line. After a month, you’d taken a trip across town to visit Peggy, a woman who had been a stranger to you and was now one of your closest friends, only to find Steve hadn't sent her any letter yet either.

Two months later, you had received a letter, one from Steve, who had been battered and bruised and completely exhausted, and without a best friend, who’d been taken during a firefight, a prisoner of war, officially announced missing in action. Even so, you’d been strong, you’d kept your hopes up, writing to him, as he was in the medical bay, listening to him get better, and saving up all of the drawings he’d done for you while unable to perform his duty. The letters had become less frequent, of course, once he was back in action, leaving you once again to realise just how cold and empty everything felt now.

You had run out of your favourite red lipstick a while ago, never bothering to replace it when you didn’t have paper to press kisses to as you wrote your lover back, and the cupboard door had fallen off a while ago, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to open up the boxes of Bucky’s things to find his toolbox and repair it.

A year to the day, an envelope with an army insignia on and a handwriting you didn’t recognise, announcing that ‘missing in action’ was now presumed ‘killed in action’, but you’d known it before even undoing the seal. That letter was in the box too, a tragic tale from beginning to end, following the first letter you’d received, shaky and jerky, written on the train, only hours after you had said goodbye and sent from still within America, before he’d ever been shipped away to his death in order to defend his country, to the final letter, confirming that the soul who’d perfectly matched your own would never be coming home to you.

With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself up from the wooden chair, back aching a little, and the darkness outside told you just how long you’d been sitting there, and you became overly aware of the room you could barely see now. A chill swept over you, an orange glow from the dying flames keeping it alight, and a sad laugh took over you as you realised just how pitiful you’d become. If Bucky could see you now, you knew exactly what he’d say. What the look on his face would be like, or how he’d shake his head at you, before rolling up his sleeves and being determined to fulfil his role as ‘man of the house’.

You were supposed to take on all roles now, you were supposed to look after your own household and future, and so instead, you rolled up the sleeves of the shirt that was loosely buttoned up the front that didn’t belong to you, and started by making your way over to the stove. Filling it up at the tap, you placed the metal down on the hob, lighting a match and flicking on the gas, watching as it sparked up. It left a glow throughout the otherwise dark kitchen, drawing out the pale moonlight that had been bathing the walls and tiles.

There was so much to do, so much that you wanted to get done, and yet you had no idea where to start, feeling like you were drowning in your thoughts, your mind becoming your worst enemy. You flicked on a lamp, warm and golden light pooling over the room and casting out the shadows, making you feel slightly less alone as the dark was cast out. Windows went black, the outside no longer visible to you, except for the pale linings of now along the edges of the glass, snow still falling as winter closed in.

It was cold, the chill in the December air making it so, and you knew you would be getting ready for bed within a few hours, and so in that light, you busied yourself with the fire next. Piling on logs, tinder, old scratching of newspaper until the glowing ashes had revived into roaring flames, the cage over the fire doing little to protect you, pops and cracks sounding from the logs.

It was less lonely now, a warm fire and some lighting making you feel like you at least had some kind of will in the world to take care of yourself, to stop everything from slipping away as you felt like you’d died right alongside him, but rather to live your life, and keep going on in the way you knew he’d want you to. The kettle was whistling, and you followed the sound, turning down the flame as the water bubbled, and finding a rag to cover your fingers with as you unscrewed the cap.

You had to search for the teabags, for the slightly fruity ones that always helped you to calm yourself a little, digging through the kitchen drawers, and pausing as you shifted through the boxes. Behind your teabags, an old box of cigarettes, ones you hadn't seen in a while but were painfully nostalgic, the edges of your lips flicking up in a smile. Your tea was forgotten, fingers brushing over the packet, before pulling it forwards. The tangible smell of the crushed leaves met your nose, and you pulled them out.

It was an indulgence you were considering. The smell had never bothered you so much, and it was rare that Bucky had ever lit up a cigarette, only when he was stressed or overly nervous, but you were considering it now. The acrid taste would remain in the back of your throat for days to come if you did, no matter how much time you spent trying to rid yourself of it, even if it felt like the perfect moment to have one, giving you a few simple hours of respite from your self-torment. There was a lump forming already, and you tried to swallow it down, flicking open the lid and bringing one to your lips.

Dropping a tea bag into the pot, stirring it slightly until the water changed colour, a herbal scent filling the air, and you searched for a single teacup and saucer as the roll hung from your mouth. Moving the pot from the flame, you leaned down, bringing it to the hob, and holding it carefully between two fingers, trying to light it, before jumping harshly at the knock that sounded through the house.

It echoed, fingers on wood leaving a sharp noise that bounced from every wall, and you glanced straight up to the clock on the wall. A brow raised, the hour far passed what would be considered appropriate, especially this close to Christmas, at the house of a woman living alone. Dropping the roll from your lips, you stuffed it haphazardly into the packet and sealed it away in its drawer, before hurrying through the small home to the door.

Looking through the gap in the wood, you couldn't see much, a tall figure, hands tucked in the pockets, back to you as they looked down, kicking at the snow, but you couldn’t make much of the hunched-over figure. You were sure it was a scam, or someone coming around to offer you blessings last minute, and so you left the lock on sealed across the door, cracking it open and shivering a little at the icy wind that swept in as you did.

The figure turned, and you looked up at them, eyes sweeping over their figure before realisation clicked in your mind. Longer hair and creases and wrinkles on the skin that had once been smooth. A patchy beard, new scars and sunken eyes, a frown where you knew a smile, but those eyes were the same, the same pale blue that always looked at you with love and admiration, and you could feel your heart leaping into your throat.

“Hey, doll.”

You slammed the door, feeling the pounding on the inside of your ribs make your chest feel as though you were aching, breaking part from the inside out as your forehead rested to the panels of the door, hearing his chuckle from the other side, before you were shakily sliding your hand up to find the lock, dragging the chain across and opening it up, before revealing the man to yourself once again.

He was facing you fully now, a grin on his lips that wasn’t nearly as bright and enthusiastic as it used to be, but still dazzling and beautiful, and you were silent as yous stepped aside, letting him over the doorstep. As he entered the light and stopped being as hidden from you as he had been, you could see the true extent of his injuries, a gasp leaving you before you could stop it.

Scars and worry-lines weren’t the only new developments. There was purple dotted along his skin, blue and yellowing at the edges as the bruises healed, and there was still fresh cuts on his skin now that you could see him. The stubble on his jaw was hiding a batch of cuts and marks, marring his skin, and you felt tears leaking from your eyes as you took him in. He closed the door, locking it up tight again, before his shoulders were slumping, and he was letting you take him in, his entirety, everything that had come back to you.

He wasn’t the same person he was, there was more bulk to him, the army routines, constant exposure, exercising for entertainment and lugging equipment around had certainly made him bigger, but as he stood before you, looking somewhat broken, he looked smaller than ever. You wanted or hold him, cradle him in your arms and never let him go, but you felt like if you did, he’d turn to dust in your hold, or you’d wake up and realise that it was all just in your imagination, a conjuring you had created on a cold and lonely night to ease the aching in your heart.

You had no idea what the extent of his injured under his clothes might be, unable to see anything of him. He wasn’t in the military uniform you’d sent him off in, the proud green with badges and ribbons, his name stitched across the front was gone. A pair of ripped and well-worn great trousers, a t-shirt with a logo on in a language you didn’t recognise and a jacket over the top, all of it looking as though it had been scavenged, blood on it that still seemed fresh, and it was all too overwhelming once again.

With a shaky hand, you reached out to him, cupping his face, fingertips smoothing over his skin cautiously as you tried to assess where you could even put your hands, where would hurt him, before pulling away when you realised he was still covered in dirt and dried blood, greasy hair and mud crusted to the ends, and he was so far from the man you recognised that you wondered whether he was even the same person inside anymore.

Pushing back his hair, you chuckled weakly as the flakes crumbled away, tucking the longer strands behind his ears and deciding he definitely needed a haircut, and taking a step closer to him as your eyes found his. Longing, sad, relieved; so many emotions were swirling within them, enough to make your stomach feel like it was twisting up into knots from nausea just at the sight of him. As you learned in, he produced his right hand, from his pocket, cupping your face lightly as the other remained tucked away, thumb smoothing over your skin.

Tipping your face into his hand, you held it to your face, eyes squeezing closed and you couldn’t’ hold back your cries anymore, a loud sob leaving you as you realised the touch on your cheek was real, not something you’d dreamt up for yourself to keep you company in the cold and the dark as you missed your soldier dearly.

“Please don’t cry, babydoll. What do I always tell ya’, huh?” You grinned, knowing the words he was bringing up, choking on the laugh you wanted to release, but tears flowed from your eyes. “Oh, baby, no. You’re too pretty ‘a dame to cry.”

His accent had faded, that familiar Brooklyn boy you loved had become a man of war, the same cocky teen you’d met years ago on the school courtyard was a new person now, and your emotions were taking over, crying in his hold, before his finger was wiping under your eyes, moving down to your chin to tip your face up towards him.

“Please, sweetheart, say somethin’. You’re killin’ me here.”

“That’s not funny, Bucky!” You glared at him, pulling away enough that his hand fell from your face, and he nodded, swallowing thickly as the amused expression on his features slipped away. “I thought you were dead! I got a letter, you haven’t written me in over a year, I went into mourning, I stayed with your mother and your sisters, we comforted each other! Where were you?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, your anger draining from you at the way his voice cracked and trembled a little with fear, and you couldn’t help the tears that were flowing over once again. “Germany, maybe? No, it was colder than that, perhaps, Russia. Almost my entire unit was taken, I had no idea how long it had been, I lost count after a few weeks, they did experiments an-” He couldn’t get his words out, he could barely speak, and you shook your head, trying to wipe his own cheeks dry, breath shared between you as his forehead pressed to yours. “I’m sorry.”

“God, James, don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He could only nod, and your throat felt raw with every breath you took, your mind spinning with a dizzy kind of vertigo that left everything else to melt away as he became your first focal point. Your legs felt weak, but you weren’t willing to step away, to let yourself drop to the floor no matter how much you wanted to let yourself give way, as the crushing weight of the day destroyed you.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say.” He laughed lightly at your words, tucking hair away behind your ear, before tipping his head up enough to brush chapped and cut lips over your forehead. “Why didn’t you send me a letter?”

“I did, but I couldn’t wait any longer, I think I beat it here.” You took his hand, lifting it down form your face, before pulling him through to your kitchen, a room he was more than familiar with, and for the first time in a long time, you were accompanying your teacup with another. You no longer wanted the drink, and you doubted that Bucky did either, but you needed something to fill your time, just to occupy yourself. “I love you, doll.”

You turned, to the nose that was bumping against your temple, no more teasers to cry, sadness and confusion ebbing away as you allowed warmth and bliss to heat you up from the inside out, a feeling you hadn't felt since you’d let him go, the part of your heart that had been missing for so long was finally returned. “I love you too.”

You shifted, moving to catch his lips with your own, but he pulled back a little shaking his head slightly, and you frowned, peering up at him with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to tell you something. Then you can tell me if you still love me.” Your brows rose, stepping back from him a little, and his head dropped. It was as his hand came across his body to untuck the one still hidden in his pocket, the sleeve falling limp as it was revealed. The right hand came up, pushing the material from his shoulders, shucking down his body and letting it drop to the floor. Bile rose in your throat, a hand clapping over your mouth, before a full-body wrack was shaking you from head to toe.

“What happened to you?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious.” He whispered, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight. His left arm was gone, the shirt sleeve knotted at the top where what was left of his arm ended, and you forced your hands up to the buttons on his chest, feeling like your arms were tied down with weights as you undid the buttons. When the final one came undone, white undervest revealed, you moved to push the fabric away, his hand sealing around your wrist, head shaking. “I didn’t come back in one piece, it’s not pretty under there, doll.”

“What happened?”

“Tests, nothing good. They injected me with something, a lot, my arm got infected but apparently, I was showing a good reaction to whatever they were pumping me full of.” He shrugged, letting you go with a nervous sigh as you continued to push away the shirt, helping him peel it down his arm, trying not to let your shock show as the remainder of his arm was revealed. When it left his fingertips on his right side, it fell away to join the jacket. “Guess they’d rather I lose an arm than they lose an asset.”

There were bandages wrapped gourd the patch, only a little of his arm left, not even reaching half-way down where his bicep would be, but the bandages were clean and fresh, no blood soaking through, and it was a blessing that you couldn’t have been more grateful for. “I love you, James Barnes. I love you so much.”

“Even though I’m not whole anymore?”

“I love every part of you, inside and out, no matter how much or little of you there is.” Finally, he smiled, the first honest and true smile you’d had from him in years, and he dipped down, lips pressing to your own tenderly. It was a moment you’d never forget; late into the night, days before Christmas like a miracle, having the man you loved back in your arms as he kissed you sweetly, just like he used to when he’d see you before he left, and everything in your life clicked back into place at long last. “Please don’t lose any more of yourself, though, before this war ends.”

“Well, I hope not, because I won't be going anywhere for a long time.”

“When do you go back?” He shook his head, stealing another short kiss from your lips, making you smile into his touch.

“I don’t, doll. The army has no use for someone who can’t shoot a gun.” You felt stupid for even asking, jaw dropping as you tried to speak, and he seemed to sense the drop in tone, his arm smoothing around your waist to pull you in closer to him, a hug that was long overdue. “Besides, if I went back, who would help you get a Christmas tree? It’s less than a week ‘til Christmas, where’s your holiday spirit?”

“Wasn’t feeling very festive when I thought that the man I loved was dead.”

“I’m home now, though.” He mumbled the words against your lips, barely letting you nod your head before he was diving in for another kiss. You had so much time to catch up on, but these kisses were deeper and far more intimate than any before them had ever been, because you’d never had this kind of pressure on your relationship before. You’d never almost lost him, feared for his life or felt like you’d been so alone, never had you been abandoned in your loneliness, and he’d come to sweep you back up out of the darkness.

It was evident in every drag of his lips with yours, it was clear in the love that he poured into the connection, each time his tongue flicked out to play with your one, in every panted breath, squeeze of his fingers into your flesh as he held onto you, pulling you just a little bit closer, and letting your arms circle his neck, pushing ourself up to meet his height.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re really home?” You questioned, still a little unsure that this wasn’t a dream, and he didn’t even hesitate before replying;

“Yeas, baby, I’m really home.”

You could only hum, soaking up every moment that you got to spend in his arms. “You should look the part, then.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He was a little scandalised, pulling back with a dropped jaw, brows shot up and hidden in his hairline from the length of the strands, your head shaking fondly as you brought up your fingers to play with his hair.

“You need a haircut, and a bath, and a shave. You look like a mountain man, not my Bucky.”

“I need to get into my own clothes, and my own bed, with my girl. How about that?” He slipped his hand down, finding one of yours and linking your fingers together.

“Only after you let me clean you up and sort your wounds. I’m not risking you getting ill, I only just got you back.”

“I’ll take that deal, babydoll.” He grinned, a final kiss, before the stove was being turned off, tea abandoned as it went cold, and he was tugging you from the room. “I’ll go and get a bath running, meet you upstairs?”

You could only nod, pressing your lips to a cheeky lined with scratchy stubble, before moving around the downstairs of the small home to prepare yourself for bed. Even as you plunged yourself into darkness and put out the fire once again, it felt warm and comforting, simply the presence of someone you lost returning to you being more than enough to light your life back up with bliss and joy. You could hear him moving apart upstairs, the creak of the floorboards as he wandered around, and the sound of the water heater starting up, loud and humming as it went, a groan under the pressure of the workings as it needed a little fixing, but that was something that could be left for another day.

After checking all the doors and the windows were locked, you began to make your way upstairs, cold wooden planks under your feet making you shudder a little as you went, following the sounds of the clattering around in the bathroom. On the wooden counter under your mirror, he had located his blade, that which has been tucked away in the back of the cabinet, placed down on the counter and he was leaning over the tub.

He was still fully dressed, or, as dressed as he’d been when he’d left the kitchen, and you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he adjusted the temperature of the water.

“You gonna’ stand over there all night, doll?”

“I didn’t want to startle you.”

His shoulders shook a little as he laughed, turning to face you, and holding a hand out towards you. “Don’t think you could if you tried, sweetheart, I’ve been.. different, lately. Everything seems enhanced. It’s odd, I guess it’s just the war making me more alert.”

You shrugged, brushing it off and wrapping your arms around his waist, his chin balancing atop your head as he hugged you closer to himself, hand settling in the small of your back.

When the water had finished running, he helped you out of your clothes, doing the best he could with one hand, wincing at himself a little when your top got stuck around your shoulders, apologising in a whisper despite the soft laughter leaving you. When you settled into the water, it was a shock to press your back against his chest, warm and soft and welcoming as an arm fasted around your waist, fingers spreading out over your stomach, where you were more used to simply feeling the cold metal of the tub pressing into you.

You couldn't remember the last time that you’d felt this way, the last time that you hadn't been filled with worry and fear, or the overwhelming sense that you would never see him again. You were filled with love and passion, a renewed sense of life that made you want to pick everything back up and carry on, like these last couple of years hadn't been the worst of your life.

A sponge was moving over your skin, lathered up a little with a bar of soap and running over your body, before you were leaning forwards, twisting in his arms, to be able to get to his chest. Now that he was undressed, you were able to see the extent of the wounds, the blood around him turning a murky brown and red as you cleaned him, revealing which patches were simply grimy dirt and which were battered and bruised fading marks that were only just beginning to heal, and would certainly do much better with your nurturing and tender supervision.

When you were clean, fingers weaving through his hair as you washed the greasy strands until they were clean and shiny once again, you settled over his lap.

“Are you sure, baby?”

“About what?” Your brows furrowed, his lower lips worried between his teeth, before he was bringing a hand up to rub at the spot his arm had once been. There was a lot of scarring, still somewhat fresh, a terrible job done of it being sewn up, and you knew that even when the inflammation and swelling around it went down, it would probably never heal fully, and you wanted to support him for every step. “I told you, I love you, and I would never want to be without you.”

“I know, but it’s going to be different. I won’t be the same man, I’ll struggle with a lot of things. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me, or stuck with me.”

“I am stuck with you, you’ve owned my heart since we were teenagers, James, I’m never going to want anyone else. I can take the bad, because it comes with a whole lot of good, too.” He leaned in, bumping the tip of his nose with your own while letting out a shaky breath, relief flooding through his system.

“That sounded an awful lot like ‘for better or for worse’.” He grinned, and you pecked the dimple that appeared over his cheek, knowing where it would be, the crease of such a bright smile burned into your mind by memory, feeling him smile even wider. “The only thing that got me through the war, all those months locked up in a cell, was picturing making good on that promise I made to you the night before I left, that I’d come home and put a ring on that finger and sweep you off your feet.”

“My answer is the same as that night.” You mumbled, hands holding onto his jaw, bringing his lips in towards yours and he puckered them, receiving the soft kiss that you were offering to him. “I still want to marry you.”

“Good, because I don’t want anyone else.”

The water was growing cold around you, and while you couldn't have cared less about it all, you didn’t want him to catch a chill or risk getting an infection in a still-healing wound, and so you stood from the tub, water running along your body, stepping carefully over the rim as he held your hand to assist you, before you were searching for a towel. Wrapping it around yourself, you helped him too, sealing the towel around his waist for him and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Pulling the plug on the drain, you turned to find Bucky standing in front of the fogged up mirror, a patch wiped clean on it, as he rubbed at his wet hair with another towel. The strands were now lapping around his chin, long and knotty, and you moved through to the bedroom to pull the stool from your vanity through to the bathroom, placing it behind him and pushing him to sit down on it with a hand on either shoulder, leaning over him to kiss his cheek. “You should let me cut your hair.”

“Really?”

“Definitely, you need it.” There was a leather wallet with a comb and scissors tucked away in the drawer, he remembered its location, producing it for you with a grin, before he was soaping up along his jaw, and lifting his blade.

“Shave first, hair cut after.”

“You’ll look like my Bucky again.” You whispered, comb running through his hair gently, detangling the notes as you listened to the rhythmic drag of the blade along his skin, taking away the stubble that had been created. Once his skin was clean, bruises and marks revealed but flesh smooth and soft again, you were set to work on his hair. Chopping away the bad memories, clearing it all, chunks of soft brunette strands falling to ground and curling as they touched the tiles, severed from his scalp never to return as they carried away the memories.

The locks disappearing from his head was like lifting a weight, the pain and torment of all that he had been through slipping away. As his hair shortened and began to become springy atop his head, flopping over a little in the same playful style he’d always worn it, the dark and sad look in his eyes cleared a little. He was watching you work, watching you chop away his past to remove those years from his life.

“It looks good. Not great, we should probably take you to a real barber to get it perfected, but it’s better than it was.”

“Anything is better than it was, sweetheart.” He promised, reaching his hand up to cover yours that was sitting on his shoulder, and his eyes dropped down to look at it in the mirror. “Will you help me bandage it back up, please?”

There was a slightly embarrassed tone to his voice, words cracking a little as he spoke, but he squeezed your hand a little tighter and leaned back into you, letting your touch slip down to rest over his heart. There were gauze and wrapping in the small first aid kit under the sink, and as you shuffled through it, you made a mental note of everything you needed to patch up your boyfriend until he was healed, sealing it up and securing it tightly over his body, and he gave a happy sigh as the scarring was hidden from sight.

He followed you through to the bedroom, going through every drawer and his entire closet, familiarising himself with things he had forgotten than he’d ever owned, while you watched him from the bed with a smile. When he finally settled on his favourite shirt and pyjama pants, you lifted the covers, welcoming him to join you underneath them, and the bed felt crowded with his large frame beside yours, unfamiliar but treasured.

As the candles were blown out, the smell of smoke drifting around you as the blaze dissipated, and you reached out for him, the place where you were so used to being able to rest your head being different now, and he huffed out.

You shuffled forwards, heat crawling up your cheeks as you pressed your head to his chest instead, and he lifted his hand up to sit on your waist, smoothing around you, and trying to decide whether he wanted to play with your hair, or trace patterns on your back. “I’ll never be the same.”

“Do you still love me?”

“You know I do, doll.” It was too dark to be able to make out his features, and so you pressed your face into his neck, leaving a few chaste pecks there.

“Then you’re exactly the same person I’ve always loved.” His hand came up to find your cheek, pulling his head back and stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Stop thinking I'm leaving you, Bucky, because I’ll always be right here with you, so just kiss me, sergeant, and remember that I adore you.”

A chuckle washed over your face, warm breath fanning across your skin, before the tip of his nose was dragging over your cheek, lips brushing your own. “Yes, ma’am.”

His lips sealed over your own, a goodnight kiss better than any there ever had been, even more so than the first time he’d ever kissed you; a quick, uncoordinated and messy collision of lips after he’d walk you home from a study group when you were just teens, because this was the promise of a future, returning you to your lover, your hearts becoming on, once again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes sebastian stan #bucky barnes marvel #marvel #sebastian stan marvel #sebastian stan bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan/reader #12 Days of AUmas

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goldentournesol · 4 years

Text

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Five)

Chapter Five: Royal Blue Napkins

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: i have totally reinvented the timeline of the show, just go with me. also...this chapter will take you on a RIDE.

Going home that night and getting into bed with her fiance was difficult for Y/N. Of course she knew it was technically wrong to have kissed Spencer back, but the problem is that she enjoyed it so much. Too much, probably. And that was alarming. Was it just because she was bored of kissing the same person for the past...what..11 years and just needed a (really) good kiss before she spent the rest of her life kissing the same man? Or was it because she knew that every neuron in her brain was usually firing at top speed at the near mention of Spencer Reid let alone finally know how her brain acted (nearly exploded) while kissing him?

The wedding was less than a month away now and Hotch was gracious enough to allow Y/N extra time out of the office, when things were calm, to meet with her wedding planner to finalize some decisions about the cake, venue, napkins, all that good stuff. In the middle of it, she caught herself wondering whether or not Spencer would like the color of napkin she chose, instead of her actual fiance. That was enough, the thought of Spencer now invaded officially every aspect of her life. She didn’t know what to do so she cornered JJ one day in her office and hurriedly shut the door behind her.

“JJ, I am freaking out about all this wedding stuff. I-I don’t know if I picked the right color for the napkins, oh God, I don’t even like royal blue! I just picked it because Grant likes it but what if it sucks because I don’t actually like it and it doesn’t match with the centerpieces and I-” she rambled but JJ promptly cut her off.

“Hey! Y/N, relax, take a seat. Take a deep breath.” Y/N followed her suggestions that felt more like orders and JJ watched her carefully, she wasn’t a profiler but she spent enough time around them to have picked up on subtle clues. She knew the woman sitting in front of her was an anxious mess and it was not about the napkins, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I like the napkins, JJ.” Y/N’s brows came together and she suddenly felt like crying, she couldn’t explain it, but she felt it.

“Y/N, you and I both know that napkins don’t make or break weddings.” JJ sent her a pointed look and Y/N began to feel small. She picked at her nails.

“Yeah? Well what does?” Y/N asked vaguely.

“What breaks weddings is an absence of love, Y/N.” She said simply and Y/N couldn’t help the frown that crept up on her face, but the blonde said nothing more.

The walk back to her desk was spent trying with extreme difficulty to not split her lip open from biting it too hard. The energy in the entire office was off, although Spencer has a new specific energy to him. He seems lighter somehow, he feels lighter too. Morgan doesn’t know exactly what happened between them but he could sense the shift in Reid’s behavior.

They’ve interacted, though briefly. Spencer pretended there was nothing wrong between them, while Y/N mulled over every interaction. Spencer literally had nothing left to lose, she’d made her choice and he’d accepted that, made peace with it even. He’d even gone as far as putting himself out there on the market. It was time to move on. There was just one aspect of the upcoming month that would make it extremely difficult to do so, so he made a decision.

“Hey, Y/N. Could I talk to you for a second?” Spencer said, leaning with his elbows over her desk as it neared their lunchtime.

“Yeah, of course, just one second... just saving this document. What’s up?” She smiled as she stared up at him, she was sure her heart was about to light on fire in her chest with the mere eye contact.

“Um, so you know how I’ve been meaning to visit my mom back in Vegas for a while now but I haven’t got the chance?” He began, idly playing with one of the candies in the candy bowl that was placed for guests.

“Yeah, of course! Are you planning on going?” She smiled wider, knowing just how much love this man had in his heart for his wonderful mother. Y/N had met Diana when she came into the office a few years back, actually she was the only one who Diana allowed to spend time with while the rest were in the field. Apparently, Spencer had told her more than enough information about Y/N before in his daily letters. Diana liked her years before she even met her.

“Yeah, I’m taking a week off, actually. I’m gonna spend it with her, I’ve missed her a lot.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as he thought of the week off.

“That’s so awesome Spencer! Will you tell her how much I’ve missed her, oh, I know! I’ll just write her a letter and you can take it with you. When are you going by the way? Do I have time to write it?” She worried slightly, grabbing a pen in preparation and making Spencer laugh lightly at her excitement.

“Yes, yes you’ll have time. I’m leaving on the 16th of August, already booked the ticket.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the date.

“Wait, the 16th? But that means…” He won’t attend the wedding.

“I know, I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He genuinely frowned, knowing just how upset this would make her. Despite their feelings for one another, they were the closest of friends.

“Th-that’s okay! Um, we’ll just send you all the, uh, pictures and stuff.” Her bright smile faltered and Spencer swore he heard a tremble in her voice, the one she made when she was trying to hide how upset she really was.

“Yeah, send me all the pictures, I’m really sorry again, Y/N.” He sent her a look of sympathy, but she understood, he didn’t want to be there.

“No, no it’s okay. I get it, there’s only so many other weeks in the year you could take off, I guess.” she laughed bitterly, very obviously hurt, “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. I have something um, for Hotch--Hotch asked for something.” She picked up a random file from her desk and quickly made her way across the bullpen and Spencer’s eyes stopped following her when she entered Hotch’s office. He released a heavy sigh and turned on his heels to leave the building for a lunch that was anywhere but there.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” Hotch asked, barely looking up from his file at first but then her silence intrigued him to look up, spotting her watching from the window as Spencer left, “Everything alright?” His voice startled her and he immediately took in her glassy eyes and the nervous trembling of her fingers.

“Huh? Oh, um, yes, everything’s fine. Did you...ask for these?” She took a look at what she’d actually picked up and realized they were a bunch of useless forms that the unit chief certainly did not need to waste his time on. It was hard to hide his smirk, having figured out what had happened.

“Do you need to take a seat, Y/N?” He saw right through her, of course he did. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and shook her head.

“Did you know?” She asked in a small voice.

“He ran it by me, yes. I have to approve his time off. If it’s any consolation, I tried to-” He begad, but she interrupted.

“No, please. I’ve heard enough. Thanks Hotch.” She frowned as she made her way out of his office, praying that her tears would--just for once--stay within her waterline.

After that, Y/N barely spoke with Spencer. She found it hard to find the line between being upset with him and understanding why he’s doing what he’s doing. On one hand, she selfishly wanted her best friend to be at her wedding, but on the other, she understood that that was a huge thing to ask from the other man who loved her. He loved her. He loves her. That’s mind boggling to Y/N. Spencer loves her? Even almost 3 weeks after his confession, it’s all she can think about. He’s in love with her.

It was almost time for him to leave for Vegas. Despite her anger with Spencer, she still wrote Diana a letter. Upon finishing and sealing it, she realized she hadn’t even mentioned the wedding once. The (supposedly) single most important event that she would ever attend in her lifetime hadn’t even crossed her mind. She didn’t even give him the letter, she just left it on his desk for him to take. Despite that, Spencer still smiled at the fact that she’d written his mother a letter. His curiosity was killing him, but he’d just ask his mom what she’d written. At the end of the day before he left, he paused at Y/N’s desk, but she refused to look up.

“Bye, Y/N. Um, congratulations in advance.” Spencer spoke, clutching his messenger bag tightly, hoping she’d just look at him once. Hoping he’d get to see her eyes one last time before her soul was tied to another man’s for the rest of eternity.

“Bye, Spencer...have a safe flight.” She replied quietly, busying herself with whatever she was working on on her computer. A beat passed between them as Spencer waited to meet her eyes, but the moment never came. Pre-love confession Spencer would have gone on and on about how he technically had no control over whether or not it would be a safe flight, but now...now he knew his voice was the last thing she’d want to hear. His shoulders involuntarily slumped as he began to walk away from the love of his life. He knew he couldn’t be at that wedding, he just knew it. Hasn’t he been through enough already? Was life that adamant about making him hurt so badly?

But alas, fate was never on their side. Moments before boarding the plane to Vegas and barely three days before her wedding, the team was called in for an emergency case. She had taken a few days off before the wedding to get everything sorted and thankfully, the case was local so she didn’t have to book any hotel rooms or coordinate with the pilots of the jet.

She had invited Garcia out with her to get a bridal manicure and pedicure on her lunch break, since she was the only one available.

“Pen, are you sure they don’t need you right now? I don’t want to interrupt the case.” Y/N signed into the phone.

“Trust me, Y/N/N, they don’t need me right now, besides this is the least I could do. All your plans for the week-of have been kinda ruined by this case. I wanna help you out the best I can! So I’m picking you up in 10 and we’re getting our nails done.” Y/N knew better than to argue with Garcia so she relented.

Near the end of their appointment, Garcia got a call from Hotch, “He’s what?! Oh no! Is he okay?! He’ll be okay, right?” Garcia half-panicked, sending Y/N right into a panic with her. Garcia paused and Hotch spoke over the phone, “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and took a deep breath.

“Garcia, what happened! Is everyone okay?” Y/N asked hurriedly.

“Uh, no...actually Reid got shot in the field. The unsub shot him in the knee while trying to aim for the victim.” Garcia spoke slowly so as to not alarm her, but it was too late, Y/N was already pulling her hands away from the nail tech, who was almost done.

“WHAT?! Garcia! We have to go now! Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital? What hospital is he at? I’ll drive.” Y/N panicked, her breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.

“Y/N/N, calm down! Calm down! He’s fine, okay? He’s in surgery and you should absolutely not be driving right now. Take a few deep breaths please.” Her emotions were already all over the place because of the damn wedding, and now she had to worry about Spencer getting shot? Oh Lord, it was too much for her to handle.

“Garcia, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Y/N fanned her face and the waterworks began. Garcia quickly asked the nail tech if she could get Y/N some water.

“Oh! Oh, Y/N, baby don’t cry, please. He’ll be okay, he’ll probably be on crutches for a while but he’ll be fine.” Garcia tried to console her but the tears just kept coming. Y/N should have felt embarrassed whilst sobbing in the middle of the nail salon, but she was too overwhelmed to care at the moment.

“I’m so sorry Garcia, it’s just all too much. I don’t want royal blue napkins, Garcia! I don’t even think I want a damn wedding! And I-I can’t believe Spence just got shot! This all just feels so wrong! You know what, this is all just one big warning sign from the universe, isn’t it?! And--and I don’t even want to marry Grant!” She blurted randomly in her fit of tears and she stopped crying out of realization of what she’d just confessed. Garcia gasped and her friend met her eyes, they stared at each other for a moment before Y/N broke out into tears again at the confession.

It was true.

She didn’t want to marry him.

Garcia apologized profusely to the nail techs and paid quickly before leading an almost hysterical Y/N out of the salon.

Y/N clung to Penelope and sobbed into her shoulder on the sidewalk, “I don’t want to marry him, Garcia.”

“Y/N, the wedding is tomorrow.” Garcia’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her friend being so broken. Y/N shook her head and sniffled loudly, “Are you sure you’re not just super upset about Spencer getting shot?” Garcia continued, wanting Y/N to be absolutely sure of what she’s deciding.

Y/N pulled away from the embrace and stared at her friend, “M-maybe? I don’t know, I-I don’t know, Pen. Oh God, the wedding is tomorrow.” Y/N covered her face with her hands and tried to rub away all the stress and tears.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go see Spencer and make sure he’s alright, then you can take all the time you need to decide whether you want to call the wedding off or not, alright? How does that sound?” Garcia reasoned with her, slowly trying to remove her hands from her face.

Y/N nodded and took a few deep breaths, wiping away the last of her tears, “Let’s go see Spencer.”

When they’d arrived at the hospital, Spencer wasn’t out of surgery yet. The team was waiting around in the hospital chairs. The hospital felt cold, so unbelievably cold. Maybe it was Y/N literally getting cold feet. The team decided not to ask about the unmistakable redness around her eyes and nose. They just chalked it up to being scared for Spencer, but it was so much more than that.

She hadn’t even looked at him before he left. She hadn’t seen his eyes or his face so full of its color in so long. When the Dr. announced he was out of surgery and that he should be waking up any minute, the team had decided to let Y/N in first. The sight of him sleeping in the hospital bed made her stomach lurch. She found it hard to contain her tears. It was almost as if her hand had a mind of its own as it reached out to smooth down his wild hair and caress his cheek. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head and watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly, but stayed closed. She swallowed heavily and wiped her eyes before walking back out to the team.

“He’s not awake yet, but I, uh...have to go. There’s something I need to take care of. Pen, update me when he wakes, please.” Y/N tried as hard as she could to even out her voice, but it trembled with every other word. Garcia nodded and before anyone could even say a word, she was out of the building. She checked the time and saw that Grant’s shift wasn’t over yet, and she had the house to herself for a bit.

As soon as she made it in, she picked the two biggest suitcases she owned and began to fill them with her things. She’d spent over 7 years in this apartment with Anderson, so many memories and so many laughs were spent here.

But she couldn’t do it anymore.

She didn’t want to have to go through a divorce, she couldn’t go through that. She’d rather not marry him at all. Within two hours, she had packed 7 years worth of her life into two huge suitcases. It was sad and she shed more than a few tears mulling over memories. But she saw her future and it wasn’t with Anderson. She placed the suitcases near the doorway and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. Surely enough, Grant came through the door at exactly 5:53 pm, just like he did every day.

“Babe? You home? Hey, whose bags are these?” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, spotting her in the kitchen with a glass of red wine and tears gathering in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Anderson frowned.

“Um, so...I’ve been thinking. A lot, actually. And I kept asking myself why we waited so long to finally get married. We got engaged in college, Grant. That was ages ago. Most people get married like, right after graduation, but we didn’t do that. We moved here together, I shifted my entire life to fit with yours and yeah I have a great job, but I’m not happy.” She paused to sniffle, “And I think I’m not happy because this isn’t the life I want for me. I think we waited so long because we secretly didn’t really want it to happen, if I’m being honest. But now that it’s happening, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry. I just don’t see my future with you.” She frowned as tears clouded her vision. She temporarily let go of her wine glass to slip off her engagement ring and place it in front of him.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” She stated with finality. He looked devastated.

“Y/N, is this a joke?” He frowned, anger settling in.

“No, it’s not a joke, Grant. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get back whatever I can from all the money we’ve spent on everything, but I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me so many irreplaceable memories. They mean more than you know.” She wiped her tears and got up from her seat.

“Wait, so does this mean you’re quitting the job?” He asked, still in awe of the situation.

“No, I’m staying at the BAU, I love it there, Hotch is a great boss.”

“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?” For the first time that night, his eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m staying with Penelope until I can find a place to rent.” They hugged one last time and she took her things and left.

Just like that.

And she’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt more free.

***

Anderson had requested a transfer to a different unit and so they barely saw each other at work. Everything was going really well actually. Over the past two weeks, she allowed herself only one day of wallowing but her priorities were finding a new apartment to live in. They’d already spent so much money on the wedding, so it was difficult to be spending at the moment, but thankfully Garcia’s freezer was full of individually packed meals from the catering company. She lived off those so far and it’d probably stay that way for the next few months or at least until she found her own freezer to fill with individually packed meals.

She hadn’t seen Spencer since that day in the hospital because apartment hunting in DC turned out to be a nightmare. But it’s fine, she’s been getting all her information from Garcia since she’d been performing daily checkups on him since he’d started his medical leave. Apparently, the ever-so-stubborn Spencer decided to continue giving his guest lectures even on his crutches. Ever since Rossi joined the team, he’d been taking Spencer to different universities and they’d often give lectures together. Y/N should’ve been glad that he’d been leaving the house, but it was so hard not to worry about him. He should be coming in today, his two weeks of medical leave are technically over, but he can’t go out into the field yet.

Also, the team was about to get a new member. Y/N was super excited, she was the one who got to show new members around the office and introduce them to everyone. She was also super excited to finally see Spencer. The ding of the elevator sounded and Y/N leapt from her seat upon seeing Spencer waddle in on his crutches through the glass doors, which were being opened for him by a young-looking blonde woman.

“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, bounding over to him and making sure to hug him gently as to not topple him over or hurt him.

“Hey!” He smiled, attempting to return the hug without his arms.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally back! The place was starting to get a little depressing!” She smiled, a new happiness filling her. She only noticed the woman standing so close to Spencer when she pulled away.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” He smiled at her fondly, resting on his crutches. “Oh, Y/N, this is Agent Ashley Seaver. She’s the newest member of the BAU and actually my girlfriend.”

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