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confused-pyramid · 2 months

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You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down | s5

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 16.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, major character death, gun violence, drinking, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 5x01, 5x02, 5x06, 5x09, 5x10, and 5x21

a/n: This season was really hard to write at points (I think we all know which eps I'm talking about lol) but I'm looking forward to brighter days ahead:') Also we get some more tangible tension so yay! Title is from Look After You by The Fray

series masterlist

"We're not working a case," Derek states matter-of-factly when you arrive at the crime scene. You were woken up early the next morning after getting back from Canada, and on less than four hours of sleep, your brain is struggling to function.

"Why call us to a crime scene?" you ask, walking up to the front door of the house with the rest of the team.

He shrugs. "I was hoping you knew."

You look around, trying to find Aaron, but he's nowhere in sight. He had promised to put in the team request for a few days of leave, but you presume the call came in before he got a chance to do so.

The local police let you survey the scene, explaining that a Dr. Barton got a threatening letter that someone would be murdered everyday that he didn't give up his own son. Once you're done inspecting the body, you turn to JJ, lowering your voice. "Where's Hotch?"

"He's not answering his cell," she says, her lips thinning. "I assume it's on vibrate."

You nod. "I'll try him again."

You step away from the group and click his number in your speed dial, listening to the rings until it reaches his voicemail. It's unlike him to keep his phone on silent, but you know the previous night was tough on everyone. "Hey, it's me." You tell him the address you're heading to for the case, before turning towards the car and lowering your voice. "I know you're probably just asleep, but I don't know...I have that weird feeling again that you know I get...so please just call me back." You take a deep breath, hoping you're being overdramatic, and that you'll see him pull up in a few minutes. "See you soon."

When you get to Dr. Barton's house, he still hasn't called you back. You sit with the doctor, Prentiss, and Reid in his living room, going through his recent patient files, while Morgan, JJ, and Rossi head to the school to find his son.

"Something set this guy off," Emily explains as you start poring over the records. "Odds are it's in your files."

You manage to get through about a dozen before Dr. Barton stands up with a sigh. "My son is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all of these patients in time."

You check your phone again, mostly to see the time, but you also note that there aren't any new calls or messages. "He's right. We need more eyes on this. I can get Hotch and be back in a half hour."

"Keep us updated," Emily says, nodding at you. Concern flashes across her eyes for a millisecond, and you're sure it reflects the look in yours.

The drive to his apartment doesn't take long, and you stalk down the hall, all the way to the end, until you find his door. There's no answer the first time you knock, so you reach for the spare key he gave you, but before you can use it, you realize the door is already unlocked.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you pull your gun out, using it to push open the door carefully. "Aaron? Aaron, it's me."

When the door is ajar, the sight before you almost makes you drop your gun. There's a large bullet hole in the far wall, along with a patch of drying blood and bits of broken glass on the floor. His phone is on the ground as well, and his gun and holster are lying on his dining table.

You crouch down on your heels, trying to calm your breathing, as you take in your surroundings. You need to think logically about this, or you'll be no help at all.

A few things come to you as your mind clears.

His car is still outside.

No blood splatter around the bullet hole.

No drag marks.

You dig your hand around your back pocket and pull out your phone, dialing Garcia as fast as you can. "Overtime shift, Penelope speaking."

Her chipper voice usually calms you down, but right now you need to cut to the chase. "Garcia, it's me. Something's happened to Hotch. You need to get an APB out on him."

Her breath stutters. "What do you mean, something?"

"There's blood on the floor," you whisper, willing your voice not to crack as your throat thickens with tears. "There's also a bullet hole in the wall, probably a .44."

"I'll send the whole team," she says before you cut her off.

"No, don't call the team. They need to finish the case we were assigned. Just tell Emily, since she's expecting me back, but send every other agent in the vicinity."

"On it."

The line clicks off and you release your breath, before standing up again. While you wait for the crime scene techs, you poke around his things in the main area, trying to see if anything has been taken or moved. The only thing you notice before they arrive is that a page has been ripped from his address book.

"Agent L/N?" a voice calls from the doorway.

You lift your hand. "Yeah, in here."

They come inside and get to work immediately, so you step out, just in time for Garcia to call you back. "Y/N, I checked local hospitals for his name, and I didn't find anything at first, but then one of them told me something really strange."

"Garcia," you whisper through gritted teeth. You love her, but she needs to hurry up before you explode. "What was it?"

"Someone dropped off a John Doe at St. Sebastian hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

Your vision turns black for a moment. He's back. Foyet's back.

You're rushing to your car before she has a chance to hang up.

***

He's still under anesthesia when you arrive at the hospital. He was stabbed nine times. That's what the nurse told you when you flashed your credentials and asked for any information she could give you.

Now, you're standing in his doorway, trying to build up the nerve to approach his sleeping form. Even with all of the bandages covering his arms and abdomen, he somehow looks peaceful. It's been so long since you've seen his brow unfurrowed, his forehead smooth, without the tension that invades his daily life.

After a few minutes, you take a step inside, then another, and suddenly you're right beside him, reaching out to clutch his hand over the bedsheet.

His skin is cold, and you wrap both hands around his to warm it up, if even by just a little. He's usually a furnace, generating his own heat even when it's freezing out, but whenever he gets hurt, his hands turn to ice.

After a minute, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you let him go to answer it. It's just Emily telling you that she's at the hospital with the rest of the team, and you walk out into the hall to talk to them.

Rossi is the first to reach you. He squeezes you into a hug before getting back to business. "You sure it was Foyet?"

"He had Morgan's credentials," you nod, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. Derek glances at you then, and you press your lips together with a nod.

"Did they catch him on the security cam?"

"You could see him dropping Hotch off," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady, "but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital."

Emily shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the E.R."

The nurse from earlier approaches you then, pulling your attention. "Agents, he's waking up."

You shuffle inside and take his hand again as everyone walks in.

His voice is soft when he opens his eyes. "Where am I?"

"In the hospital," Emily whispers, taking care to be mindful of her volume.

He shuts his eyes for a beat. "How did I get here?"

"Foyet drove you." Rossi doesn't frown often, but the lines of his face are clearer than ever. "Can you remember what happened?"

Hotch shakes his head, closing his eyes. "What did he take? The Reaper always takes something from his victims."

"There was an address page missing from your day planner," you whisper, finally finding your voice. "In the B's."

His eyes snap open and he tries to lift his head from the pillow, but he can only wince. "Where are my clothes?"

Emily hands him a plastic bag filled with his belongings, and he ruffles through them, until he finds his wallet. When he opens it, a photograph is stuffed inside, covered in blood spatter. Haley and Jack.

Your breath catches, and he seems to realize what it means at the same moment you do. "Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the B's in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands."

You squeeze his hand involuntarily, and he exhales sharply. "He knows where they live."

***

When the rest of the team rushes off to his old house, you stay with him at the hospital. You get a call soon from JJ that Haley and Jack are just fine, and you are finally able to breathe easy for the first time all day.

"They're okay," you tell him when you hang up the phone. "That was JJ. She said Haley was home and Jack's at a playdate, but Morgan is going to pick him up right now."

He nods slowly, his body relaxing into the bed. "Good. That's good."

"It is," you say, eyeing his movements. It's still enormously difficult to look at him like this, but you won't be able to move forward if you don't know the truth. "Aaron, what happened? What did he do?"

"I don't remember all of it," he says slowly, clearly taking his time with each word. There's no rush, and he knows it. Even if it takes him hours to get it all out, you'll still be here. "I remember him being there when I got home, after I dropped you off. He fired off a shot into the wall, and then I tried to tackle him, but..."

He trails off, and you squeeze his hand tighter, as though trying to tether him to the present moment. After a few shallow breaths, he continues. "I tried to tackle him, and I got him on the ground, but then he overpowered me." You can almost see it in your mind. The picture he's painting as he weaves over the details with startling clarity. "The first one hurt the most."

The first stab. Your eyes close for a beat, like you're trying to hide from his words. The first of nine.

"I don't remember much after that." You can tell he's leaving things out, but you also don't know if you'll be able to handle it if he does tell you everything.

"That's okay," you whisper as his eyes droop down. "You should rest."

He nods slowly as the exhaustion takes over and his grip loosens around your hand as he falls asleep.

You wait by his side for about a half hour, until you spot a familiar face (with a new haircut) dawdling in the hallway.

You stand up in a fervor. "Oh, thank god."

You rush over to Haley and pull her into a hug, which she returns just as forcefully. "JJ called us when she found you, but it's still really good to see your face."

"It's good to see you too," she says with an exhale before letting you go. You look down and see Jack standing next to her, his mouth downturned as his fingers twiddle at his sides. "Do you mind staying with him while I go talk to Aaron?"

You turn around and see that he's blinking his eyes open again. "Not at all." You take Jack's hand with a smile and lead him down the hall.

"I'm sorry if the big men scared you," you tell him once you find a few seats in the waiting area. "I know it was all very sudden."

To your surprise, his face breaks out into a big grin. "Uncle Derek let me turn on the siren!"

"Wow!" you smile, feeling warm laughter echo around your chest. "That sounds super fun."

He nods ecstatically, before leaning his head over to look back up the hall. "Can I see Daddy now?"

Your smile falls as fast as it appeared and you take his hand again, pressing his fingers between yours. "Soon, baby, soon."

***

He wakes up to the sound of faint talking. He can vaguely see you hugging someone, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision as you disappear down the hall.

"How do you feel?" Haley asks as she walks into his hospital room. She doesn't come further than the foot of the bed, but he's just glad to see her here, in one piece.

He clears his throat quietly. "I'm gonna be okay." She doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't want to focus on him right now. "Did they explain to you what's happening?"

She nods slowly, looking at him for another moment. "They said the Marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody."

She looks upset, and it takes him back to the lowest moments of their relationship. "Haley, I'm sorry."

She looks down and the familiar urge to comfort her returns, even while lying in a hospital bed. "Do you know where they're gonna take us?"

"No, I don't." He tries to catch her eye but she won't look at him. "And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

She finally looks at him then, and her sadness is tinged with exasperation. "Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now."

He doesn't know what else to say but: "I know. I'm sorry." He hopes he's conveying what he means, but it doesn't feel like enough. "We will catch him, and you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

She nods minutely, and he takes the small comfort. "Are you sure that we're in danger?"

"Yes." There's little else he's been more sure of.

"And what about you?" she asks, her voice small. "Are you gonna be safe?"

He doesn't want to worry her, but he also doesn't want to lie. "He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can't see him is better than killing me."

Her brow pinches and she pushes her short hair back from her forehead. "Jack wants to come in."

He tries to argue at first, not because he doesn't want to see him, but because it will only make it harder to let him go again, but eventually she convinces him to accede.

She leaves to go get him, and he leans back on the pillows, trying not to let himself sink inside.

Haley finds you in the waiting area, with Jack sitting on your lap, in the middle of a game of I Spy.

"Is he ready for him?" you whisper when you see her approach. She nods and you lift Jack off your lap and set him on his feet. "Off you go, buddy. Time to see Daddy."

"Yay!" he cheers before racing down the hall, you and Haley right behind him. She steers him into the correct room, and he jumps onto the bed before either of you can stop him.

There's a quiet chorus of 'be careful's before he grunts, "Don't worry. It's okay. The doctors made sure that I'm completely fine." He turns to the small boy with a smile you haven't seen in days. "Did Mommy tell you that you two are gonna take a trip?"

Jack nods once, moving his chin up and down dramatically. "Yeah."

"So I'm not gonna see you for a while."

Jack frowns. "Why?" The word sounds so small out of his mouth, and your heart cracks in your chest.

"Well, think about it like when Daddy goes away for work. Only this time you and Mommy get to go someplace."

Jack ponders this for a few seconds, before crawling up again and wrapping his arms around his dad's neck. "Are you okay?"

"I'm very proud of you." It's a father's answer. The kind of response that doesn't tell the truth, but hides the pain with love. "Every single day. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Haley says another goodbye and grabs Jack's hand before leading him out of the room. She gives you another hug, squeezing extra tight for the last second. "It's not his fault."

"Of course it isn't," you whisper, letting her pull back.

"No," she whispers, closing her eyes. "I mean, don't let him blame himself for this."

He's one of the most stoic people you know, but he can also be so transparent sometimes. "I won't. I'll be here."

"He needs you," she says with a sad smile. "He's always needed you, but he especially needs you now."

She doesn't let you respond before she's tugging Jack down the hall. You watch as she exits the side door of the wing, and only turn back when you can't see her anymore. She's one of your longest friends, and you won't be able to see her or her son for god knows how long.

When you step back into the room, you stand at the foot of his bed, trying to gauge what he needs from you, but then you see his expression. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his mouth twists as you rush forward and grab his hand, squeezing it between yours with the grip of someone holding onto a life preserver.

"They'll be okay," you whisper, trying to keep your own tears back. "We'll get through this."

He nods, his eyes still shining. You move to sit in the chair beside him, but he tugs you back, pulling you closer. You understand the desperate look in his eyes, the need for connection and comfort from someone you care about that you've seen in yourself on so many occasions.

Slipping your shoes off, you tuck the sheet into his side and carefully climb onto the little hospital bed, taking care to avoid any of the wires and tubes. Once you're sure you're not pulling on anything, you curl up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. His skin is warmer than it was earlier, and you take solace in the fact that he's going to be okay. Maybe not now, but he will be.

Your breaths synchronize with his and you listen to the beeping of the heart monitor as your own heart rate calms down. There's a feeling tugging at your spine, filling you up and threatening to spill over, but you shove it down, knowing it will be too much right now. You don't have the words to describe the emotions circulating through your brain, so you stick with what you know. "I love you." It's quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you. "Thank you for staying alive."

"You're welcome," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the monitor. "I love you too."

***

You leave the hospital the next morning with a plan. He's still asleep when you wake up, so you get up carefully and thank the nurses one more time before heading out.

You make two stops on the way to his apartment, and this time, you use your spare key to unlock the front door. The crime scene crew cleaned the blood off the floor, and you told Rossi to get them to spackle the hole in the wall, for at least a temporary fix, but there's still an air about the place. It was just starting to feel like his home, and now it's soiled, once again.

You shut the door behind you and drop your bags to the ground, surveying the place one last time for any damage or mess you missed earlier. When everything seems fine, you get to work.

An hour later, you slump back against the wall and toss the packet of instructions to the ground. In front of you is a freshly installed security system, with a door proximity sensor and keypad for when he leaves the house in a hurry.

You can already hear the arguments coming, but you don't care anymore. You won't be able to sleep knowing he's in here, all alone, without anything to keep Foyet from coming back and finishing the job.

For someone who has as little of a technical background as you do, you're impressed with how quickly you were able to get the system running, and you test it a couple of times, turning it on and off and checking the doors, before you finally pull his door closed and lock it behind you.

***

The doctors don't release him until the end of the week, but once he's able to walk again, he calls you to get him from the hospital. By the time he signs his discharge papers and makes the phone call, you're already almost there, and as much as he hates putting you out on a weekend, he can't help the satisfaction that rumbles through him.

The drive to his apartment is mostly silent, with him just trying to stay still as you take the turns carefully, and drive five under the speed limit. When you arrive, you hold the bag of salves and ointments for him as you take his arm, helping him down the hall and to his front door.

He moves to grab his key, but you stop him with a forceful "Wait!"

"I can unlock my own door," he grumbles, but you just shake your head, taking the key from him and turning it slowly in the lock. The moment it swings open, a loud beeping fills the air, and you rush forward to type something into the keypad by his door. Wait...keypad? "When did tha-"

"Before you argue," you jump in, clearly anticipating his disgruntlement, "it's for me, okay."

He raises an eyebrow and you glare at him, but there's no effort behind it. "I mean, it's obviously for you, but still...it's for my peace of mind too."

You're rambling makes him crack a smile for the first time in days, and he nods slowly. "Okay."

Your mouth snaps shut and you look at him with a meek smile. "Okay."

You help him get settled on the couch, and he waits there as you scrounge up some food from the kitchen. He's not sure he has anything perishable, but you manage to put together a comforting bowl of pasta with jarred tomato sauce that makes him feel a little more at home.

As the evening turns to night, he catches himself glancing at his watch more often than not, and eventually you catch on too.

"Is it time?" you ask, your voice gentle.

After a breath, he nods, and you reach across the coffee table to grab his bag of supplies from the doctor. You lay the salve and extra gauze on the table, and wait for him to make the next move, a decision he accepts gratefully.

He's been injured before. He knows how painful it is to sanitize a wound, and especially one as deep and grotesque as his. He just needs a few moments to accept the fact that he's...scared.

"I can do it," he says once he's ready, before reaching for the salve. The simple motion makes him wince and you jump in right away, grabbing it for him and undoing the top.

"Let me," you whisper, your words somewhere between a statement and a question. "Please."

He can already feel his stitches pulling, just from the simple act of swiveling his body to face you, so he gives in with a quick nod.

He doesn't look at you as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He's not embarrassed - you've never pitied him, even at his lowest moments - but he needs the semblance of privacy as he exposes his injuries to the open air.

The air feels cold as he pulls his undershirt over his head, and you get to work immediately, peeling back the old layer of gauze as slowly as you can. The sections directly over his wounds stick slightly, and he grits his teeth against the pain as you gently tug them free, making sure to avoid pulling his stitches.

"Do you want a break?" you ask once the gauze has been fully removed. He shakes his head, needing this to be over as soon as possible, but when he meets your eyes, he sees them welling up with tears.

He glances down at his bare torso, his eyes darting over the jagged scars ranging from his stomach to his collarbone. Your breath stutters as you take it in with him, and he looks at you. "He made sure we'd match."

He sees you rapidly blinking away the tears that rush forward, and he wants to comfort you somehow, but he doesn't know what to do. You help him lean back on the armrest, so you can apply the salve around each of his injuries, and as your fingers press into his skin, he can't help but be reminded of his childhood. The pressure of your hands as you wrapped him with bandages, the warmth of your breath when you leaned in to inspect your work.

It's usually a sad memory when he thinks back to his childhood, but with you, it was always good. He watches as you slowly tape the new layer of gauze around his abdomen, and even as tears slide down your cheeks, the way you look at him doesn't change.

"All done," you whisper after pressing on the final pieces of tape. "How do you feel?"

Anxious. Terrified. Lonely. Guilty. "Good. Thank you."

***

"Hey, it's Emily."

"What's up, Em?" you say, your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you hop around, trying to get your shoes on before work.

"How was your weekend?"

You pause. "Fine?" The question isn't out of the ordinary, you're just not sure why she called to ask you that when she's going to be seeing you in person in about twenty minutes. "How was yours?"

"Oh, you know." She sounds distracted, and you feel a smile pull at your lips as you realize she's avoiding something.

"Em...is there a reason you called? You know, given that we're both on our way to the same place."

She clears her throat, and you hear the indecision in her voice, even over the phone. "I know this is kind of a weird question, but would you mind if I picked up Hotch for work this morning. I left late last night, so JJ was able to brief me early, and I figured he could use a headstart."

You stop your movements, straightening up and lifting your hand to your cell. It's not at all what you were expecting her to say, but that's not all you're confused about. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask me first, though. We're all teammates."

She makes an little noise that you don't recognize. "Yeah...but you two are different."

You don't know what to say to that, so you just wait for her to keep going. Emily was never very good at uncomfortable silences, so after a few moments, she's back. "Anyway...I'll grab Hotch and see you in 30?"

You try to hide your grin, even though no one can see you. "Sounds like it."

"Bye."

The phone clicks off, and you tuck it back into your pocket, still smiling. You're already in a better mood than normal, because after 34 days of medical leave, Aaron comes back to work today.

You finish clasping your shoe and head out the door, more relaxed this time. With Emily picking up Aaron, you're not in a rush anymore. You take the drive at a leisurely pace, and when you arrive at the office, you run into Spencer by the front of the building.

"Wait up!" you call out, jogging over to him before he gets in the elevator. "Let me get that." You slide the strap of his book bag off his shoulder and sling it onto yours. He nods in thanks and tucks his crutch under his arm as he presses the button for your floor.

"I thought I'd be used to the crutches by now, but I keep tripping over everything." You scrunch your brow with amusement as he frowns down at his leg. "The doctors say it's healing well, though."

The elevator doors open and you step in front of him to get the door across the hall. "Does it hurt?"

He shrugs. "It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."

The statement isn't exactly comical, but his deadpan tone makes you snort as you hold the door, and he smiles as he passes by you. You follow him to Garcia's lair, and she perks up upon seeing the both of you.

"My babies," she grins, pulling out a chair for Spencer. "Sit, sit."

You let out a laugh as you place his bag on the floor next to him. "I'm older than you."

"Who's counting?" she throws back, typing something furiously into her computer. She turns around a moment later, just in time to swat Spencer's hand away from the tin of cookies sitting on her table. "No, no, no."

"What?" he complains, gaping at her.

She swats him again, before pulling the tin away from him. "Get away, you. These are for Hotch."

"Butterscotch?" you ask, glancing down at the box. His preference for butterscotch cookies was something you used to tease him about when you were kids. Butterscotch Hotch.

Penelope nods and lifts the edge of the lid, implicitly offering you a cookie. When you take one, Spencer throws his hands up into the air. "Why does she get one? I get shot in the leg and I still don't get any cookies."

You laugh and break off half of your cookie, which he takes from you the moment it's in your palm. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth, not bothering to swallow it before he pipes up again. "You know he's gonna hate the attention."

"It's cookies," Garcia pouts, "not cake."

Spencer shrugs. "He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway."

"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."

You don't know how to weigh in to this discussion, mostly because you know more about how he's feeling than they do, but also because the idea of speculating on his recovery without him here feels like a betrayal.

"What do you think?"

You look up and realize that Spencer was directing this question to you. Swallowing down the last bit of your cookie, you cough once to clear your throat. "I think he's been through a lot, but sometimes coming back to work is the best way to take your mind off of things. Foyet was in his home. I don't think staring at the same walls that used to have bullet holes in them is exactly healthy either."

Spencer and Penelope both stare at you for a moment, before nodding and looking down. They remind you of two children who have just been reprimanded, and you smile to soften the sentiment. "I love you guys for caring about this, but we just have to trust that he's okay."

"Yeah," Penelope nods, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. "Are you okay? This can't have been easy for you, either."

"I'm fine," you say too quickly. "Nothing happened to me." It's not a lie, exactly. You weren't the one who was stabbed. Nine times. "I've just been keeping him company after work, and helping with some of his post-hospital care checklist."

"He's lucky to have you," Penelope says softly, to which Spencer nods.

"He was great too after I got shot," you add, feeling oddly defensive of your friendship. "He stayed with me for a long time when my dad was gone."

She smiles at you sadly, before holding the tin out for you. "Want another cookie?"

You let out a weak laugh as Spencer chuffs behind you, and you shake your head. "No thanks."

"Do you think he'll like them?" Her voice sounds earnest, and you nod, knowing what it's like to want so desperately to understand someone who's as closed off as he seems at times.

"Spence, Y/N, there you guys are."

You turn around to see JJ, her face lined with tension. "Are you ready for us?"

She nods. "Grab your go bag."

***

He's been erratic all day. When he snapped at Garcia earlier for missing the antipsychotics link, you wanted to throttle him, especially when you remembered the cookies she had waiting for him in her office.

The thought that maybe Spencer was right keeps flashing through your mind as you watch him get frustrated with everyone, including himself. When you all arrive at the Darrin Call's father's house, where he and a young boy he kidnapped are waiting, Aaron instructs Emily to speak with the lieutenant on scene to figure out what you're dealing with.

"The kid's in there," you hear him say, "We've got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. Call needs a distraction. He's focused on the old man."

Emily glances back at the house as she ties her hair back. "For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out."

"I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate."

"You do that and someone else dies."

The man just shrugs. "Either Call or a child murderer...flip a coin."

"It doesn't have to end like that." You can see how hard she's trying to make the lieutenant understand, but sometimes the locals just don't listen. "We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die."

There's movement behind you and you turn around at the last second as Aaron stalks past you and towards the house.

"Hotch," you call out, but he doesn't look back. "Aaron. Aaron!"

He's almost at the front door, and your feet start moving without you realizing it. You make it within a few feet of the front gate before two pairs of arms seize you from behind, halting your momentum.

"Let him go," Dave whispers as he and Derek release you. "We have to trust him."

"He's not thinking straight," you grit out, unable to tear your eyes away from the closed door as you step forward again. He wasn't wearing his vest, and you can't remember if you saw his gun in his holster. You close your eyes, wracking your brain. Think, goddamnit.

Derek grabs you again as you try to make a break for it, anticipating your movements before you even know what you're doing. "Rossi's right. We have to trust him. We can't help him if we rush inside now."

"We can't help him out here either!" Your voice sounds frenzied in your ears, but he doesn't loosen his grip, even as you try to shove him off of you.

"You know we're right." He looks at you sternly, and your resolve diminishes as reason starts to set in. "Going inside will only make it worse."

Emily comes up from behind you and takes your arm, leading you back to the street in front of the house. You back up, but you don't turn around, ready to rush in the moment anything changes.

"What's he doing?" she asks Derek, her voice quiet, like she doesn't want you to hear.

"Stalling," he says simply. "He's got nothing to lose."

Your breath catches and you lift your hand to your chest, clutching the top of your vest like it's a lifeline. You want to scream at them, scream that he has everything to lose. He has a son, and an ex-wife who loves him, and he has you.

"You got the shot?"

"Negative."

He suddenly appears in the front of the door, but you can tell he's angling his body to block the visual of the shot. What is he doing?

The door opens for a split second, and the little boy runs down the porch and into the arms of one of the SWAT members. It shuts as fast as it opened up, and you only manage to see his face for a moment before he disappears into the house again.

For a minute, there's only silence, until the air is pierced with the sound of three gunshots, one after the other. Your body visibly flinches and you throw yourself forward and over the gate, pulling out your gun at the last moment as you breach the front door.

When you storm into the living room, Aaron is putting cuffs on Darrin. The father is dead in his recliner at the center of the room.

"What happened?" Dave asks from behind you.

He purses his lips. "I couldn't stop him." It's then that he finally looks up at you, but all you can do is glare. You don't know if you've ever been angrier in your life, and definitely not at him.

His brow dips with a mix of confusion and remorse, but you just stuff your gun back in its holster, spin around, and stalk out of the house. The fresh air outside feels like a welcome respite from the emotions swirling around inside of you, and you turn your face to the sky as your brain fires off millions of questions at once.

When did he get so reckless?

Is this all because of Foyet? The need to feel like he's getting something done, with his family on lockdown?

He comes out of the house then, and you're practically shaking from the relief that he is okay, but the anger isn't fading. You can feel it flooding your veins with each breath you take.

He hands Call off and approaches you slowly, stopping in front of you with a look you don't recognize.

"This is the job," he says simply, his voice almost cold. "You know what you signed up for."

"I know what I signed up for?" Your face twists with disbelief and you look at him with contempt. "Fuck you, Hotch." His face drops slightly and it only feeds your fight. You know him better than anyone else in this world, and that also means you know exactly how far you can push him until he cracks.

"This is what we do." His voice is tight, and you see your anger reflected in his eyes. "You knew that when you joined the team."

Emily and Dave exit the house, and you can feel their eyes flickering over to you, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.

"No," you grit out, shaking your head. "You don't get to be angry with me. You don't get to say that to me."

He looks at you for a beat before his face falls and you see all the fight leave him. He sighs, his brow pinching. "You're right."

You can practically see the war going on inside his head. The battle between fear and action, where there are no winners.

You nod as you look down at the ground, and he reaches forward to take your hand. He squeezes it tightly, before lifting it to his chest. "Y/N." I love you, I'm sorry.

You nod. "I know." I'm sorry too.

***

You've been looking at the text JJ sent you for the better part of an hour. Something's going on. Strauss was in Hotch's office and it looked bad.

You're reminded of his suspension and the two long weeks you worked here without him, and you internally resolve that it won't be happening again if you have any say at all.

The next morning, you're one of the last people to arrive, and you walk into a conversation that Spencer is having with Emily at his desk.

"You're not gonna believe this," he says, turning to you and lifting his hands dramatically. "Some moron just posted a blog called 'What would Carl Sagan do?' and it's completely illogical."

"L/N, what did I miss?"

You spin around to see Derek strutting into the bullpen, his phone held up in his hand.

"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown.

He looks at you expectantly, and you start to feel like you're on the outside of something you should know. "All the emails from Hotch..."

You yank your phone from your pocket and refresh your email. "I don't have any new ones."

"Me neither," Reid chimes in from next to you.

Derek doesn't wait another moment before he's barreling past you and up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"What was that about?" Spencer asks, a confused look on his face.

"I don't know," you say honestly, "but I think we're gonna find out soon."

"You wanted to see me?"

He nods and you step into his office, shutting the door behind you. Ever since his private conversation with Derek this morning, you've been obnoxiously curious about what's been going on with the team, but you also know when not to overstep your boundaries.

"Take a seat." He beckons to the couch on the far wall, and he sits down across from you when you plop down. "We have to talk about something."

"If you say Strauss suspended you again-" He cuts you off with a lift of his hand. You look at him sheepishly and nod. "You were saying..."

"This is going to sound odd, but just hear me out." You're starting to get worried, but he doesn't look anxious, so that's a start. You nod, and he continues. "The bureau thinks that my ability to lead this team has been compromised. They've been questioning me since Foyet's attack, and they're not entirely wrong."

You want to refute this, but you've also been questioning some of his actions as of late. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that you won't have his back if it comes down to it. "They can't fire you. The whole team will fight back if they even try."

He looks at you with something that resembles concern. Concern? "They won't fire me...because I'm stepping down."

"What?" you burst out, unable to help your volume. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week, but I'm not leaving this team."

You think you have an idea of where this is going, but his eyes are still tracking your movements, like they do when he's worried about how you'll react. You don't know how it could get much worse than this, but then you realize he hasn't told you who will be replacing him.

"I told Morgan to take my place until we catch Foyet."

There it is. You don't expect it to sting as much as it does. "Oh."

Your voice sounds small to your own ears, and you clear your throat to keep the emotion out. This isn't a personal decision, it's professional. If Strauss was telling you this now, it probably wouldn't faze you. So why does it hurt coming from him?

"Strauss wasn't happy with your decision to not take the New York position," he explains, his eyes finding yours. "You know I think you deserve more leadership roles. It was her that suggested Morgan for it, and I couldn't argue when she was already so unsure about letting me promote internally."

"I get it," you nod. Your tone a bit sharper than expected, even though you understand where the decision came from. Derek deserves this position too. "I do, I promise."

He raises his eyebrows with a check in, and after a moment, you finally nod. It's okay. We're good.

"I'll see you in the morning?"

You dip your chin. "Good night."

***

"I can't believe Hotch is stepping down."

Penelope, Emily, Spencer, and JJ are all unabashedly watching Derek as he briefs Strauss on the case he chose for today. You've been trying not to look, but every few minutes, something snags your attention.

"Morgan said it's business as usual," Emily adds, her brow furrowed as she watches them converse.

Penelope doesn't seem eased. "So we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?"

Spencer shrugs. "After Foyet, I think we'd have to be ready for anything."

Derek finishes speaking with Strauss then, and you stand up as he asks Emily to call Rossi for the briefing. He looks official with his ironed button-down, and you can't help but wonder if he's trying to emulate Aaron.

You flash him a cheeky smile as he walks towards the conference room, but he just brushes past you.

Derek steps into his new role effectively, and you even notice him provide extra feedback to everyone throughout the case. Hotch has a bit of a difficult time stepping down at first, but you know it comes from habit, not distrust.

When you're back at the office later that night, you look up to see that he is still in his office, furiously jotting something down, even though his responsibilities have been greatly diminished. You don't know why you expected the demotion to make him want to cut back a bit.

Derek is the only person still in the bullpen when you take a seat again. You finished up the last of your paperwork, so you start to pack up your stuff, but then your interaction from earlier crosses your mind again.

Latching your bag closed, you stand up and perch on the edge of Derek's desk. "Hey, boss, how's the responsibility feel?"

"Fine," he mutters, his tone snippier than you've ever heard it.

"A lot more paperwork than you were expecting, huh?"

He doesn't look at you, so you reach forward to tap the back of his hand. "Derek, come on, what's going on with you?"

You brace for him to snap at you again, but then he just sighs, setting his pen down. "You're not angry with me, right?"

"What?" You don't know where this is coming from, seeing as how he's been the one who's been avoiding you all day. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Why?" he repeats, his face twisted with disbelief. "I basically stole this position out from under you."

You shake your head forcefully, putting your hand over his on the desk. "Not even close, hon. Anything on my end was bureau politics, but that's just one side of it. You deserve this just as much as I would have. You've even been at the BAU longer than I have."

He's silent for a moment, before he turns his hand under yours and clasps it gently. You give his hand a squeeze before bringing your other one up to his cheek. "You're doing a great job. You were an amazing leader out there today. Hotch picked you well."

Derek leans into your hand for a beat, before letting out another sigh. "Thanks."

"Seriously, Derek," you say with a smile. "This might have been one of his best professional decisions yet."

That makes him laugh, before shaking his head. "Nah, his best decision was bringing you to this team."

Your chest fills with warmth and you lean forward to pull him into a hug. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, and you settle into the hug, turning away from the office light upstairs and trying to ignore the fact that Aaron hasn't looked up from his desk since you started talking.

***

"Agent Hotchner, before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."

Karl Arnold, the Fox, has been taunting each of you throughout the whole day, and right when you finally thought you were done, he drew you right back in. You follow Hotch and Prentiss back into the interrogation room.

"So you think you found my admirer."

"No," Aaron says simply. "We found the killer."

Arnold grins. "With my help, of course."

"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you..." Emily sneers, "lost."

Arnold turns to her, and the look in his eyes makes your skin crawl. "My love, your guy is far from lost."

Hotch shakes his head, turning to the door. "We're done."

"So is he." All three of you spin back around, much to his amusement. "'Look at what I have done.' It's quite brilliant, you know?"

"We will find whoever sent you that."

"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."

Aaron immediately starts flipping through the file on the table, shoving pictures and papers aside as he searches for something. Something about Arnold's tone sends your mind reeling and you grab the journal in front of you and start flipping through it as well.

"What's going on?" Emily asks, coming up behind you.

Arnold just laughs. "He's torturing him."

"Who?"

He ignores her. "It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."

You reach one of the bookmarked pages, and the symbol that greets you almost makes you drop the journal. "Aaron..."

His eyes snap to your hands as his skin turns white. "Foyet."

The three of you rush out of the interrogation room, accompanied by the disturbing sound of Arnold's laughter echoing behind you.

Just before the door shuts behind you, you hear his final words. "He knew you'd come."

***

The whole team spends days with only one goal in mind: find and capture Foyet. JJ works with you and Garcia to track prescription medications that he would be on given his self-inflicted injuries, and Spencer, Emily, and Aaron put together a geographic profile using the letters from the Fox and the proximity of nearby pharmacies. Derek's role as acting unit chief keeps him busy all on its own, but he manages to keep the team on track as he turns any new cases that come in to other teams.

When JJ returns from a local pharmacy with the discovery that many prescription meds have over-the-counter alternatives, the focus shifts. Garcia narrows down the list, and brings back a list of names that is way too long to feasibly question.

"153 names," you huff, leaning over her shoulder as she scrolls down the list.

Emily frowns. "Well, he's not gonna use his own name."

"What kind of aliases should we be looking for?"

You all consider this, before Derek chimes in. "He could have easily stolen someone's identity."

Hotch shuts that idea down immediately. "No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case."

"A victim, maybe," you guess, "or a cop?"

Garcia doesn't find anything on the initial search, but thankfully Spencer suggests another approach. "Guys, Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."

Emily frowns. "Like an anagram or something?"

Spencer walks over to the white board and writes out George Foyet, before fiddling around with the spellings of possible anagrams. You walk up behind him and follow his movements along the board. "You see something, Spence?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet."

"Spencer," you interrupt as the realization comes to you, "he named himself The Reaper."

He pauses for a beat, before switching over to scrawling out possible anagrams for The Reaper instead. After a moment, he's done. "Peter Rhea."

Penelope is already searching. "There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington."

Rossi nods, a satisfied look on his face. "We found him."

***

Garcia sends out the address of an apartment in his name, and you drive over with Hotch, who doesn't say a word the whole way over. You keep glancing at him, trying to be discreet, but the tension in his posture doesn't fade, even after the breakthrough.

The apartment ends up being empty, but when you all go inside, there's a laptop sitting on the center table. Emily dials Garcia the moment you realize that the files on it are being remotely deleted, and when she hacks in, she comes across a series of surveillance photos that make you gasp out loud. "Oh my god, isn't that-"

"That's the US Marshall protecting my family." His face looks frozen with stress as he dials Marshall Kassmeyer's number. When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron stalks out of the apartment and to the SUVs parked out front. He doesn't wait for you to get in, before he's already driving off.

"Where is he going?" Emily calls out as she exits the building behind you.

"Kassmeyer's house," you say, almost certain that you're correct. With the knowledge that his family is most likely in immediate danger, there is nothing anyone could do to stop him from trying to save them. "I'm gonna follow him."

"Here," Rossi says, tossing his car keys to you. You accept them gratefully and speed off down the road.

Kassmeyer is bleeding out when you get to his house. Aaron is already inside, trying to get him to explain what happened, and when he describes how Foyet taunted him and stabbed him, you resist the urge to take Aaron's hand.

"Sam," he says suddenly, leaning over him. "I need to understand. Does he know where Jack and Haley are?"

Your heart rate skyrockets as Kassmeyer mumbles another apology. If Foyet knows where they are, you don't know if any of you will be able to get there in time.

The paramedics rush in then, and they carry Sam out to the awaiting ambulance as he refuses sedation. Aaron runs out after them and throws himself into the back of the ambulance before you can catch up.

Without any new leads, there's nowhere for you to go, so you wait out front in your SUV as you wrack your brain for where Foyet would have told Haley and Jack to go. You don't know how long it takes until another agent calls you from the hospital with the news that Marshall Kassmeyer died in surgery.

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. One more body you can attribute to The Reaper. "Is Agent Hotchner there?"

The voice is tinny over the line. "He took one of the SUVs and left a few minutes ago."

"Where?" You can hear how frantic your voice sounds, but you don't care. "Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure," the agent says. "He sped away before anyone could ask."

You hang up the phone and turn the car on, before pulling onto the street and calling the team line. Garcia picks up on the first ring.

"Sam died in surgery," you explain as you turn at the end of the street. "Hotch is already gone, but I'm gonna go to the hospital now in case someone has more info."

"Okay, honey," she says, patching in the rest of the team. When they answer, she repeats your statement, before she gets cut off. "Guys, Hotch is calling Foyet."

"Patch us in," Derek instructs over the line, before going silent. You mute yourself as well, before turning back to the road.

"Agent Hotchner."

Foyet's voice makes you nauseous, and you can practically hear the grin behind his words.

"If you touch her..." Aaron doesn't even finish the threat, but you can feel the rage within it.

"Be gentle, like I was with you?"

Your eyes prick with tears as you remember the scars that are now a permanent fixture on his body. The matching scars. The idea of Haley ending up the same way, or Jack-

"What the hell took you so long?" Foyet complains, his tone playful. "I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."

Aaron doesn't answer him, and the anger is almost palpable over the line.

"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated," he finally responds. "You're more predictable than you think."

"Am I?"

He starts to recount the tale of Foyet's life, weaving in details that you didn't know from his childhood and the pain he was causing before he was even old enough to drive. You suppose this was what all of those late nights at the office were for. You hope they were worth it.

"That's the thing, George," he continues, his voice suddenly softer. It's like he's pleading with him. "This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"

There's silence for a few moments, and you can hear your heartbeat in your skull. Eventually Foyet comes back. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair."

Your heart falls into your stomach. He has her. He already has her.

"She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her."

Just when you think that might be the worst of it, he continues. "Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"

He has them both. You can barely see the road through the anger and fear that is coursing through your veins. Another phone rings and Foyet answers it, leaving his line with Hotch on as well. "Mrs. Hotchner. I'm here. Open the gate and I'll drive in."

You can't hear her reply, before Foyet returns to the call you're listening to. "Aaron? I really gotta go."

The call disconnects, and you can't breathe. Open the gate. The gate. What gate?

Think, think, goddamnit think.

The answer hits you like a truck. "His house. They're at his old house."

Emily whispers something that sounds like "shit" and you swerve across the lanes to make a u-turn. "I'm heading there now."

Assuming Aaron was already heading back after leaving the hospital, he would reach the house before any of you. You can only hope he'll be there in time.

Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you're gripping the steering wheel, and when Garcia patches you all in for another call from Foyet, the tears are already flowing down your cheeks.

"Aaron?"

It's Haley's voice. You gasp out loud from the relief that she's still alive.

"You're okay?" She sounds so scared, but at least she's alive. That's all you can focus on right now.

Aaron answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm fine."

"But...he said that..." The realization hits her, and she lets out a small sob. "Oh, Aaron."

"He can hear us, right?"

"Yes."

His voice is softer then, wet with tears. "I am so sorry. Haley, show him no weakness, no fear."

"I know." Of course she does. She was married to a profiler for years. She knows what all of this means, but she doesn't deserve any of it. "Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh..."

"No," he says gently. "Sam is fine."

Foyet's voice is like the hiss of a snake as it joins the call. "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?" His voice is too close to the phone. You want to scream for him to get away from her, but you're not supposed to be listening, and your car isn't moving fast enough.

"He's trying to scare you, Haley." His voice is trembling, and you can hear the tightness behind each of his words.

When Foyet mentions the deal, your stomach roils with nausea. You can picture the exact look on Aaron's face as he blames himself for this entire situation, even though it's happening to him, not because of him.

"Don't react."

Haley's voice is shaking too as she whispers, "What is he talking about?"

"Tell Jack I need him working the case."

"What?" She sounds confused, and that's when you remember the signal he told you about. The words that only Jack knows that are meant to keep him safe from situations exactly like this.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case," he repeats, his voice steadier. But all of it goes away the moment Haley hands her son the phone.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, buddy." His voice cracks and you feel your heart crack with it. The tears are rushing down your cheeks now, and you wipe them out of your eyes with the back of your hand as you get closer to the house. But not close enough.

Aaron tells him to work the case again, and he gives Haley a hug before rushing out of the room.

"He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-Man." Foyet chuckles, before yelling out. "I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"

Aaron ignores him, and you feel his focus return. "Is he gone?"

"Yes." Haley's voice is strong, and you release a single sigh of relief as you press the gas pedal down as hard as you can.

Aaron's voice returns and you can hear the anguish as he speaks. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."

"You'll hurry, right?" The fear in her voice breaks your heart, and you want to assure her that you're all doing everything you can, but you're still a few streets away.

"I know you didn't sign on for this."

Neither did you.

She echoes your thoughts. "Neither did you."

His voice breaks into a sob. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh."

"Haley..."

"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron." Her words sound so final, and you can't imagine what Foyet is pointing at her right now, but you can only hope that Aaron gets there before it's too late. "I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him." She sounds almost resolute, and your body floods with hope for a split second. "Promise me."

His breathing is ragged as he whispers, "I promise."

Three gunshots ring out and the wheel jerks in your hand as a painful sob wrenches from your throat. No, no, no.

You race out of your car the moment you pull to a stop in front of the house. There's only one other SUV outside, and you don't give yourself a moment to think as you rush inside, lifting your gun at the last second.

The front foyer is empty, but then a jagged thumping fills the air and you dart around the corner to find Aaron beating Foyet to a pulp. You can tell from where you're standing that he's already dead, but that doesn't seem to matter to him.

"Aaron!" you yell, hoping to break his reverie. His hands are covered in blood as he pounds the man's face in, and he doesn't look up until you grab him from behind and yank his arms back. "Aaron, he's dead. He's dead."

He stops moving, and for one single second, everything is still. Then his body pitches forward and he breaks down as he sobs, his hands coming up like he's begging for the pain to go away.

You clutch him as tightly as you can, like if you hold him close enough, he won't fall apart. You can hear the voices of your teammates as they enter the house, but then his head lifts and he pulls himself up, dashing down the hall. You follow after him, rushing past Morgan and Rossi, and you realize where he's going in real time as he runs into his office and kneels down beside his desk.

Please, please, not him. Just not him. He opens the cabinet and you all share a gasp of relief as Jack's little face peeks out, his skin unmarred.

"I worked the case, Daddy. Just like you said."

Aaron reaches in and picks him up, before squeezing him tightly, his little face glancing around the room in confusion.

"You did a great job, buddy." He releases him after a few moments, before handing him off to JJ to go outside and away from the carnage littering the house. You press a kiss to his forehead before she lifts him up and walks out of the room.

Emily looks at you then, concern flashing in her eyes, but you just nod, and she follows JJ, pulling the door closed behind her.

You turn back around just in time to catch Aaron as he collapses to the floor. The weight sends you both to your knees, and he crushes you to him as you hold him as tightly as you can. His sobs mix in with your own, and you try not to let your body shake from the force of your crying, because you need to be strong for him.

He buries his face into your neck, his tears mixing with the blood on his face as it soaks your shirt and vest.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper into his hair. It doesn't feel like enough, but there's nothing else to say. "I'm so sorry."

Derek and Emily come back with the paramedics eventually to take him outside to check for injuries, and you're about to follow after them when something catches your eye. A pair of feet invade your periphery as you glance through a doorway down the hall. Oh god.

Your knees buckle and Derek catches you before you stumble forward into her room. You fall to your knees beside her, and you vaguely hear Emily whisper something behind you before there's just silence.

Her eyes are already closed, and if you really wanted to, you could try to pretend that she was just sleeping, but there's too much blood. You reach out to push her short hair back from her forehead, so that you can see her face one last time. One last time.

A sob rips out of you and you take her hand, pressing it to your lips. The scene is suddenly too much, and you close your eyes before letting out a shaky breath. You don't know what your life is going to look like without her presence. What Aaron's life with look like, or Jack's.

You squeeze her hand again before laying it on her stomach, and Emily comes forward then to help you up. Derek holds the door open as she leads you outside, and helps you tear your vest off the moment you hit the fresh afternoon air.

You bend over, hands on your knees, gulping back fresh air and trying not to throw up. Emily pats your back as you take in deep breaths, rubbing comforting circles that help to calm down your heart rate.

When you look up, you spot Aaron sitting on the edge of an ambulance. The medics are cleaning his cuts, and one of them is holding an ice pack to his head, when you walk over to survey the damage.

He doesn't look up when you approach, instead staring at his bloody hands with a look you can't discern. You can't imagine what he must be thinking right now, but if you know him at all, you know that sometimes you don't need to talk.

You reach down and take his hands, holding them in yours with a tight grip that forces him to look at you. Neither of you says anything, but it's okay, because there is nothing left to say. There will be soon, but not right now.

***

"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jess tells you as she slings her purse over her shoulder.

You nod at her as you pick Jack off the ground and swing him up into your arms. "Take your time. We'll be hanging out here."

Aaron beckons for Jess to walk out in front of him before he dips his chin at you. "Thank you again."

"Of course," you smile, shaking your head. They're going to make the last arrangements for the funeral, and the absolute least you can do is watch Jack while they're away.

"Can we watch cartoons?" Jack asks the moment the front door shuts behind them.

"Soon, baby," you laugh lightly, before placing him on the ground and leading him to the kitchen. "We gotta make lunch first."

You throw together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring them to the breakfast table, where Jack is obediently scribbling away at his coloring book. "Here you go, Jack-o-lantern."

He takes a massive bite before you can sit down, but over the next ten minutes, he only manages to finish about half of the sandwich. "I'm done."

"You sure?" you ask, scrunching your face into a playful frown. "I think you got at least a couple more bites in you."

He shakes his head forcefully, before dropping the sandwich onto his plate. You know he doesn't usually eat much, but he hasn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. "Come on, hon, at least another big bite."

"No!" he yells, pushing the plate away from him. Before you can stop him, he jumps off of his chair and races out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.

You hear the door slam shut behind him, and you heave out a sigh before clearing away both of your plates and wiping down the counter. You don't fault him for anything, you just can't believe he has to go through something like this.

He's so young. Younger than you were when you lost your mom. There's some comfort in the fact that he likely won't remember this pain when he's older, but then comes the nausea. The sickening reminder that one day he'll forget about her. Haley, his mother, your best friend's wife, your friend.

You slowly make your way to his room, knocking on the door twice before calling out his name. When he doesn't answer, you twist the knob and gently open the door. "Jack?"

He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit on the floor in front of him. He's fiddling around with a set of colorful wooden blocks, and he only looks at you once you pick one up yourself. The edges have been worn smooth from being tossed around, and you run your fingers against them as you wait for him to speak.

"Did Mommy want to leave?"

You can practically hear your heart crack in two as the block falls from your hand. Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting to scare him.

"No, baby, no," you say quickly, reaching forward to rub your thumb over his cheek. "She loved you more than anything in this world."

He still doesn't look convinced, so you rest your palms on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. "If it was her choice, she would have never left you."

After a moment, his lips jut out into a pout, but he nods once. "Is Daddy gonna leave too?"

The tears rush forward again. You want to tell him that Aaron would never leave him, that he may be gone most nights until after Jack is asleep, and sometimes even before he's up for breakfast, but he would never leave. But you also know that Haley didn't want to either, but sometimes the job takes more than you're willing to give. "He's not going to leave you. Not if he can help it."

That seems to calm him down for the time being, so you take his hand and lead him back to the living room. Once he's situated on the couch, you switch on his cartoons for him, turning the volume down low.

He settles into the cushion next to you, his arm resting on your thigh as he focuses on the screen in front of him, while your eyes wander down to the small tv stand. They land on a framed photo of Haley and Jess together, smiling at the camera as the sun shines down on their faces, and you lift your hand to your mouth to stifle the tears that rush forward.

When your eyes pan over to the photo of you and her, with Aaron and Jess right behind you, the tears stream down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, trying to be quiet so as not to call away Jack's attention. But the cartoons are too quiet, and when a small sob escapes, Jack looks up, his brow furrowing with a look reminiscent of his father. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," you nod, forcing a smile onto your face as you look down at him and press a kiss to his temple. "I just loved your mom very much."

***

The ground is still wet from the rain. It squelches beneath your feet as Jess clutches onto your arm, letting you lead her across the cemetery for the service.

You walk behind the pallbearers as they bring Haley to the top of the open grass and set her down carefully with a reverence that brings tears to your eyes again. You don't know if your eyes have been dry at any moment today, but the tears haven't spilled over yet. It's only a matter of time.

Aaron is ahead of everyone, looking down at the small sheet of paper in his hands, with Jack by his side. The young boy looks so small in his suit, and his eyes dart around the procession with a mix of confusion and sadness that pierces your chest.

When Aaron is ready to begin, Jessica lets go and walks up to stand on his other side, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Your arm feels cold where she used to be, but it doesn't last long as another hand takes its place. You turn your head to see Spencer, one hand on his cane, and the other on your arm, as he holds you tightly to his side, his eyes brimming with tears as well. You don't expect that there's a dry eye in the crowd.

Aaron starts his speech with a quote, but the steadiness in his voice starts to waver the moment he says her name. "Haley was my best friend since we were in high school."

You remember how fiercely he loved her, even back then. The tenacity with which he pursued her when he realized that she was someone he wanted to spend his life with.

His voice continues as his eyes dip down. "We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son Jack." Your tears surface again, but you suck them back with a deep breath. "Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today."

Aaron looks up then, and his eyes land on the casket in front of him. "A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature. And we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life."

His hand flexes at his side, and you wish desperately that you were up there with him, holding his hand like he held yours when your mother died.

"I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her."

His voice breaks and he reaches into his pocket for the scrap of paper he was looking at earlier. "I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment."

The quote comes back to you as he recites it, and your mind flashes back to those adolescent afternoons when you would watch him make a fool of himself trying to impress Haley at play practice. You can't help yourself as the tears finally fall, and you feel Spencer squeeze your hand tightly, acting as the lifeline you so earnestly need.

When he finishes his speech, everyone comes forward to place white roses on her casket before it is lowered into the ground. You wait as the crowd slowly dissipates, as everyone heads to the repast, and you hold Jess's hand while Aaron picks Jack up, holding him tightly.

"Blow Mommy a kiss," he whispers, before leaning over to let Jack place a rose on the casket.

His brow furrows as he straightens again, and you watch as the familiar stoicism returns to his posture. He isn't pushing all of his emotions down, exactly. He's just tucking them away, so as to be there for his son, who needs a solid figure in his life, now more than ever.

And that's what he'll be.

***

The repast is bustling with people from all eras of Haley's life, and you sit with the team at a large table, staring at your plate of food. When Dave pulls Aaron outside to talk, you watch them leave, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as he's forced to leave Jack with Jess again. She has been nothing but grateful to see her nephew more often than usual, but nonetheless, he wears his guilt like a jagged scar across his face.

Penelope clutches your hand under the table and you give her a weak nod, unable to do more with all of the energy drained from you.

"It was a beautiful service," Emily says, her eyes big and soft as they look at you.

You nod again, before turning back to your full plate. You can't bear the thought of stomaching any food right now.

Then just when you think the day can't get any worse, Derek and JJ's phones chirp with a message at the same time. No. No.

"They can't be calling us in," Emily sighs, her lips thinning, "not tonight."

JJ shakes her head. "I'm on it." She returns from her phone call a minute later with a forlorn look. "There's no other team available."

Derek gets up with a sigh. "I'll get Rossi."

When he returns with Dave, leaving Aaron alone on the deck, you squeeze Penelope's hand before walking outside. The air is cold, and you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you approach him.

"It's okay," he says before you can open your mouth. "I'll see you when you get back."

Mind reader, you think for a split second.

He has already given you the blessing you assumed you needed when you came out here, but it still doesn't feel right. "I don't want to go."

"It's your job," he shrugs. Like it's that simple. "It's okay."

"Are you sure?" You won't be able to do your job with him here, but even less so if you're feeling guilty the whole time. "I can take time off."

"No," he says quietly, shaking his head. He looks out into the night air, and you take his hand, squeezing it between both of yours. "It'll be good for me to have some time with Jack."

You can understand that. You pull him into a hug, before dipping your chin into a nod and leaving him out there again.

***

His return to work hasn't been easy. When Strauss gave him the option to retire with full pension and benefits, it should have been an easy decision, but something was tugging at his gut, telling him that would be the wrong choice.

Now he's sitting in his office, and all of his recent life choices are swirling around him like a hurricane ready to close in. He misses Jack like he's missing a limb, and he feels terrible for how often he's been relying on Jess to take care of him, even though she readily offered her help.

His emotions are a tumbling mess, and he doesn't notice that his fingers have been tapping the edge of his desk until you enter his office.

"Coffee?" He looks up with a nod, accepting the steaming cup you hand him, before you flop down on the couch across from him. "What are you thinking about?"

He swallows back a scalding gulp that likely scorched his throat on the way down. He wants to push his emotions down and say something quippy that won't distract you for more than a few moments, but tonight he needs reassurance more than he's willing to admit. "Did I come back too early?"

He expects an immediate and bombastic denial, but you just sit there, stirring your black coffee as you tuck your legs under you. "I can't decide that for you."

It's a diplomatic answer, but he needs guidance, and he doesn't have anyone else to go to. Not that he would go to anyone else even if he did. "Do you think I'm jeopardizing the team by being here?"

This time, the answer is immediate. "Of course not. You've been doing your job effectively, and no one can say otherwise."

He pauses for a moment, ruminating over your words. He knows he's not asking the right questions. He's just delaying until he has to accept what he's feeling.

With a shaky breath, he sets his coffee down and looks at you. "Am I jeopardizing my family by being here?"

Your brows pinch. "Jack will be okay. He's young, and he'll miss you, but you're his hero, Aaron. He loves you because you keep him safe."

"But I'm never home." His voice sounds ragged to his own ears, and he's certain you can hear the pain clawing out of his throat. "How am I doing my job as a father if I'm never there?"

"Aaron," you whisper, drawing his eyes back to yours. "You're keeping him safe by catching the bad guys. He knows that. And that's what he needs." You fix him with a look that makes his back straighten. "Okay?"

After a moment, he nods. "Okay."

***

"Hi, Hales."

You sink down onto the bench in front of her headstone, before pulling the baggie of peach rings you brought from your pocket. They were the only candy you liked from your high school's vending machine, and the two of you would share them between classes during your senior year.

"I should've come sooner, but work's been really busy."

You've only visited her once since the funeral six months ago, and you wish you could've come by more, but sometimes being here is just too much. It's too stark of a reminder that she's never coming back.

You pop another peach ring in your mouth, before breaking into a grin. "Jack's growing up so fast. He's so resilient, it's amazing." He has already adjusted to living in his father's apartment full time, and he seems to like hanging out with you or Jess whenever he's stuck at work late. "I wish you could be here to see it all."

You wish for a lot of things these days. The loss seems to keep piling up, and you don't know what to do or how to feel most of the time, but time keeps passing. And with it, so does the grief.

"Aaron's starting to get better too." You don't know what you believe, but a part of you suspects she knows all of this already. "The transition back was hard on all of us, but he doesn't look as defeated all the time anymore." Your lip twitches. "He even smiles at my jokes sometimes."

You swear you hear her laughter over the rustling of the wind, but it's probably just in your head. "Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. Let you know how much we miss you."

You stand up, grabbing the bouquet from next to you, and walk over to the headstone. Without thinking, you reach into your bag of candy and drop a peach ring into the dirt. It feels juvenile, even as you're doing it, but you can't help yourself. She would find it funny. You know she would.

You tuck the rest into your pocket and walk across the grass to another row of stones. It's not a quick stroll, but it gives you enough time to take a few deep breaths before you face him again.

Jeff Adler. The letters jump out at you like flashing lights, and you blink a few times as the magnitude of your loss washes over you. So many lives, so much love and warmth gone from your life.

Bending down, you place the bouquet of carnations in front of his headstone, before kissing your fingertips and pressing them to his name.

***

"You've got to be kidding."

He just shrugs, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. You make sure to keep your voice down as you toss your cards into the center pile and lean back against the bottom of his couch.

After putting Jack to bed, neither of you could think of anything quiet to do until Aaron pulled out a deck of cards from below the tv stand.

"I hate that you're so good at this," you grumble, watching as he deftly splits the deck and starts shuffling again. This being Go Fish.

"You're good, too," he concedes, flashing you an amused look that you don't share.

"Yeah, but you're better."

"As with most things."

You throw a card at him, but he dodges it easily. When he's finished shuffling, he deals out a card, before pausing. "We can play something else if you don't think you can beat me."

"Just deal the cards."

He lets out a low laugh and deals out another card, just as both of your cellphones chirp at the same time. You share a look before dropping the cards on the table. He stands first and gives you a hand up, which you accept.

"I'll call Jess," you whisper as he strides over to his bedroom to get his go-bag. You dial her quickly, and get the confirmation that she's coming over, before grabbing your own bag and heading out to his car.

***

"Sorry to ruin your night."

Everyone is in casual clothing when you walk into the briefing room with Aaron on your heels. JJ shoots you an apologetic look which quickly turns to surprise when Rossi walks in wearing a full tux.

"What, are you working on, wife number 4?" Derek laughs as he sets his bag down.

Dave just grumbles. "I see you people way too much."

"I hear that," you grin before taking your usual seat between Aaron and Spencer.

"Let's get started." JJ hands out the case files and clicks the screen on. "All right. Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There's 3 people dead in less than a week."

You scan the file as fast as you can, but Spencer beats you to it. "For a town with a population of 1,476, that's fairly significant."

JJ nods. "It's their first murder investigation on record."

"Who are the victims?" Dave asks, his eyes darting back and forth between the file and the screen.

JJ looks down at her notes. "Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days."

Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but Emily gives it a voice. "Any connections?"

"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected."

When JJ finishes up the briefing, Aaron stands up and grabs his bag. "We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us."

She shoots him a confused look. "Sir?"

"I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected."

"Yes, sir."

"This town's already on the brink," he continues with a sigh, "and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."

***

After barely getting any sleep on the plane ride over, and a long day in the cold, the team holes up in the lobby of a local inn, warming up around the fire.

"I'm gonna pull an all-nighter," Garcia announces when you stifle a yawn behind your fist. "I'll finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise."

"Good," Aaron nods, sitting up on the couch. "The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning."

At his suggestion, the innkeeper steps out from behind her desk. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."

"Uh, 4?" Spencer squeaks, his eyes darting around the room.

"Come on," the sheriff sighs as he stands up, "that's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department." He glances at Aaron and they share a nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

The sheriff walks out of the inn and you lean back on the couch, turning your head to the side to look at Aaron. The question in your eyes is implicit. What's the plan?

"It looks like we'll have to double up," Emily answers for you, her lips stretching into a grin.

Derek speaks up immediately. "I'm not sleeping with Reid."

Penelope reaches over and grabs Derek's arm. "Dibs."

Emily and JJ stand together and head upstairs, and you glance at Aaron with a nod. "Let's find one of the double rooms before Emily snags it."

"Guess it's you and me, kid," Dave says to Spencer as you grab a key from the front desk and pick up your bag. The inn is so small that all of your rooms end up being in the same hallway. You leave the door open behind you as you step inside and toss your bag onto the nearest bed.

Aaron enters after you and locks the door, before wordlessly moving your bag to the other bed, away from the door. It takes you less than a second to realize why. His protective nature was always strong, but over the past year, it has kicked into overdrive, especially around you and Jack.

"Do you want first shower?" you ask as you unzip your bag and pull out a tee shirt and some sleep shorts.

"You take it," he says, shaking his head. The chilliness of the outside air hasn't left your bones, so you don't wait for him to change his mind before grabbing your toiletries and rushing into the bathroom.

While you're in the shower, Aaron takes his time fluffing out the comforter and pillows on his bed. The room itself isn't very spacious, but he doesn't mind sharing with you. The close quarters remind him of his youth when he would sneak into your room late at night to get away from his family. Just the sight of the lights through your bedroom window used to bring him peace. When he glances over at your side of the room, a tranquility washes over him, and he realizes that the feeling hasn't really gone away.

"Your turn," you say a little later when you emerge from the bathroom. Your skin is still slightly damp, and your cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, and he has to tear his eyes away as he nods and steps around you.

The tiny mirror in the bathroom is still steamy when he shuts the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, and he lifts his hand to wipe it off, before pausing. His scars aren't something he likes to think about often, but after saving Jack, they took on a different image in his mind. He felt less like a victim.

He rubs his hand against the mirror to wipe off some of the condensation, and his reflection looks tense as it stares back at him. Back in the room, your presence felt warm and comfortable, but in here, with the steam fogging up the glass, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, something else roils in his gut.

It's a not-so-unfamiliar feeling that used to be commonplace when he was younger. It hadn't reared its head in years, but lately, it's been so much harder to push it down. When he sees how much his son loves you, how much he looks forward to finding you in his apartment when he gets back from a late meeting. It's been...hard.

He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water wash away the notions tickling the edge of his brain. When he walks back into the room, you are tucked into your bed, the covers up to your chin.

"You look like a burrito," he notes with a small laugh.

You shrug, though it's barely visible from under the comforter. "I find this is the best way to keep out the Arctic chill that seems to have invaded our lodgings."

"Fair enough."

He slides into his own bed and clicks the switch on the wall to turn the lights off. He tries to sleep for a few minutes, but even though he's exhausted, it won't come.

It's dark enough that he can't see his fingers in front of his face, but the uneven sounds of your breathing let him know that you're still awake.

"You should really sleep," he whispers into the darkness.

"You first," you say after a moment, before your voice lowers. "How are you doing? How are you holding up, I mean."

"How are you doing?" he asks, knowing he's being unfair.

You don't let it slide this time. "You're deflecting."

"I know."

There's a pause before he finally concedes. "I think I'm okay. The normalcy is coming back, and Jack is doing a lot better, which helps immensely."

"Me too," you say after a beat.

He wants to let the subject go and try to sleep, but the words are pulling at his throat. "I miss her all the time."

"Me too," you repeat. You huff out a husky laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "God, me too."

There's a tinge of bitterness in your voice that he recognizes in himself, but it's not something he knows if he can explain. He remembers how a small part of you blamed Jeff after his death, but that's nothing like what he's feeling. He blames himself for everything but the act itself, knowing that if he had just gotten there quicker, or taken the deal, or taken the transfer-

His breath catches and he hears you rustle under your covers. He imagines you turning to face him, and as his eyes slowly adjust he sees that he was right.

"Do you remember that time in high school," he says suddenly, not entirely sure where he's going with this, "when I got detention."

"I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

He laughs, in spite of himself, and turns over to face you as well. You're so far away, but he can just barely make out your face from across the room. "When you broke me out."

Your laughter is sudden and it echoes around the small room as the memory hits you. "I do remember that. I told them your grandfather was in the hospital so that they would let you out. God, Mrs. Parker was so upset when she went to get you."

"I think my favorite part of the story was that both of my grandfathers died before I could walk."

You chuckle, your voice softer now. "I know."

His chest warms at the memory of the two of you running out to your car and driving to get a scoop of chocolate at your favorite ice cream shop. Even afterwards, you had driven around town for hours, without a complaint, and he hadn't mentioned the time once. It was so soon after his dad's death, and he hated going home for so many reasons. Sean hated him, and his mother was sad all of the time, and it was like you just knew.

"You were good at reading me," he whispers, almost to himself.

"Were good?" you ask with mock offense.

He snorts. "Fine, are good at reading me."

"That's more like it."

***

You drop your empty glass back on the table, feeling the burn of the liquor as you swallow it down. It's your second drink of the night, and while you usually don't indulge in more than one, you welcome the chance to let loose.

Everyone else seems to be in the same mindset, because JJ, Emily, and Penelope are in various states of drunkenness around the booth, and the men are either nursing a drink or driving.

"Let's dance," JJ shrieks, lifting her head off of Will's shoulder and pushing herself up from the booth.

"Hell yeah," Emily grins, pulling you and Penelope up with her.

JJ tries to corral the guys to join, but they all stay firmly seated. Dave and Will look content as they sip their whiskey, and Spencer doesn't budge, citing his leg hurting (a lie). After a bit of targeted shoving, Derek chuckles and gets up for one dance, following Penelope and JJ onto the dance floor.

"Aaaaaron," you slur, tugging his arm. He doesn't move even an inch, but the corner of his lip twitches when you don't give up.

"You used to dance in college," you point out with a frown.

Emily hoots as she saunters over to the floor. "This I need to see."

Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, and you eventually oblige, joining the ladies (and Derek) for a few dances. The dark atmosphere of the club has you feeling looser than you have in a long time, and after the next song, you join Dave over at the bar to get another drink.

You down half of it before you leave the counter, and by this point, JJ has coaxed Will out of his seat, while Spencer rushes off to find the bathroom. The tiredness hits you as soon as you finish the drink, and when you spot Aaron by himself at the booth, you glide back to keep him company.

He doesn't notice you at first as you walk over to him, and you can't help but register that he looks good in his undone button-down. You take another step forward and a thin glint of metal around his neck becomes visible. A jolt of heat shoots down your body and you set your glass down on a nearby table without looking as you approach him.

When you reach the edge of the bench, someone walking by bumps into you and you stumble forward. Aaron grabs onto you as you fall forward, and you end up crushed in his arms, your face just inches from his. Your thoughts cut out and you don't make a sound, your breaths coming out in quick spurts.

Neither one of you moves as you look at each other, so so close, so much closer than you've ever been, than you've ever gotten to be. The faintest impression of a thought - the thought - crosses the deepest edges of your mind as you lean in infinitesimally. He doesn't notice, and you barely register it either, but you can't help but notice how easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him.

Kiss him?

Your brain short-circuits and you just barely manage to keep your eyes from widening. You have no idea where that came from, but then again, if you are honest with yourself, it has always been there, buried deep down beneath years of friendship and history.

The question invades your brain again, and this time, you're unable to stop it. What would it be like to kiss him?

You can't keep your breath from catching, and he pulls back immediately, tugging you to the side and depositing you on the booth beside him.

Your mouth falls open as you try to meet his eye. "Aaron-"

His head turns and he stands up, his eyes dark under the soft lighting. "I'm sorry."

Before you can get another word out, he's gone.

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burrowbaddie · 2 months

Text

Trust

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 5/?

Status: Ongoing

Please read the warning careful for this chapter. Proceed with caution; some content could be triggering!

Warnings: female!reader, smut, swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader, mentions of past abusive relationship,

Act 5 Summary: You and Joe come to an abrupt end. With no more fight left in you, you decide to march to your own beat.

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

You sit nervously, biting your lip, waiting for the doorbell to ring. Joe is away at training; you encouraged him to go and give you some space to collect your thoughts, but right now, you could use his strength. You stand up and start pacing, unsure how to bring it up. You told your father to come over for the weekend to catch up and only explained briefly in the conversation. You figured it would be easier to tell your father first, plus you wanted to speak to him about your mother. Yeah, you decided to lay it all all in one go. The sound of your doorbell snaps you back. It's now or never. This is your first step towards freedom from Jackson. You make your way to the door and swing it open, greeted by your giant of a father. He scoops you up and squeezes you.

"You never invite me over. Am I going to be a grandfather?" He jokes, putting you down. Your heart cracks a bit more at the thought of telling him you can't have children.

"Where's Joe? Am I going to have a little footballer grandson who plays for the Bills? Me and your brother already-Sweetie, hey hey, why are you crying?" Your father calms himself, taking your hand in his. You try to wipe your tears, but they flow endlessly. Your father follows you to the living room, where you try to gather your thoughts, but the tears won't stop. You're hyperventilating, and your father is quick to be by your side, holding you.

"Did Joe do something to you? Where is he?" Your father is quick to his feet, and you grab his hand.

"Joe is fine. It's nothing with him. It's-" You touch your throat, unable to say his name. Your father sits down and gently holds your hand.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on?"

"Mom lives out here. I ran into her, " you whisper, deciding to take the lesser blow for now. Your father sighs and rubs his head.

"I know."

Your head shoots up at your father's confession.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother contacted me a few months ago. I knew she lived here but didn't know you ran into her."

"Did she ask about me?"

"She did. She said she was so proud of you. She has been watching you from the start of your career."

"She has two other daughters now. She's a terrible person, and I don't want her in my life." You stand up, wipe your face, and begin pacing. Your father sits with his hands clasped together, staring at the floor.

"Dad, why aren't you saying anything? Don't tell me you forgave her! " you shout.

"We have talked over things, and we are moving forward."

"What does that even mean? You forgive her. Now, you guys will hold hands and run off together?"

Your dad's silence is loud. You're shocked at this revelation and unable to process a thing.

"You're together again?"

"We're talking. She's divorcing her husband and-"

"She abandoned you! She left us like we were nothing!" You shout, throwing your hands up.

"She was my first love. If you had a chance to be with your first love again, wouldn't you?" Your father asks calmly. You chuckle darkly, throwing your head back.

"My first love has ruined my life for the last ten years." You storm out of the room just as Joe enters the living room. He sets his bag down and chases after you.

"Honey-"

"How can he talk to my mother right now? What she did to us is unforgivable!" You scream and cry. Joe embraces you, trying to calm you down. There's a knock at the door, and you pull away from Joe, allowing your father to enter.

"I have nothing to say to you right now. Joe will show you to the guest room. Thank you." You walk away, slamming the bathroom door behind you. Your father follows Joe out of the room and back downstairs.

"I thought I knew my daughter pretty well. Who is her ex?" Your father asks Joe. Joe lifts your father's bags and sighs. It isn't his place to tell your father everything about Jackson.

"It's up to her to tell you, sir," Joe replies respectfully. Your dad nods his head.

"Was it someone famous? Can you at least tell me that?"

Joe looks over to the steps where you're standing now. You're upset about your mother, but you have to tell your dad.

"Jackson. After Karen moved me to LA for my career, I started seeing Jackson shortly after." You whisper. Your father turns around to face you. You do your best to read his face, but he reveals many different facial expressions in those few seconds.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You whisper. Your father is in front of you, holding you in his arms as you break down.

"What are you sorry about? It's me, I'm the fool." Your dad walks you to the sofa, where you sit down and prepare yourself to tell your father everything. Joe gives the two of you space and decides to go take a shower.

"I started dating him after I turned 18. He was everything to me. It didn't take long for him to show his true colors. He started being controlling, and I blamed it on being my mentor and the stress with the business. I found out that after my 19th birthday, I was pregnant, but my career had just started, so I had an abortion. I thought it was only an abortion until a few days ago; I found out Jackson paid my doctor to tie my tubes." You can't bring yourself to look at your father. Your father tried his best to process all the information silently.

"I-I'm stunned." Your dad finally replies.

"I thought I could be free of him. I did my best to hold on to hope for these last few years because of the stupid contracts, but Jackson won't stop. He won't leave me alone. I spent seven years locked in fear of Jackson; through all the mental, emotional, and physical abuse, I stayed because I thought that was my life, but finally, I'm stronger now. I'm telling you this now because I'm going public about Jackson's abuse, and I'm taking him to court. I thought it would be best to say it to you first rather than hear it on the news."

"I wish you would have told me sooner. I didn't know any of this was happening to you. I should've put two and two together. I should have been smarter. I should have known when you stopped coming to visit. He took you away from us. No, I practically gift-wrapped you to him. It's my fault for being so fucking naive. I trusted this guy and-"

"Daddy, it's not your fault. I made my decisions. I-"

"He put his fucking hands on you! I sent you to LA, and I knew the culture of Hollywood. I read stories about things like this, but I never….I never thought for once you could fall victim. It's my fault. You suffered all this time, and it's my fault. I wondered why Jackson was contacting me these last few months. I'm a fool. He knew…Oh god."

"Daddy, it wasn't-"

"The business was failing. I was in debt and didn't want to ask you for money. Jackson offered, and I accepted it. He owns half the business now."

Your breath is caught in your throat. You're unable to move from your sitting position as your father starts rambling and pacing. This is why you never went public. This right here. Jackson threatened your family over and over and over again. He promised he would ruin their lives if you left him, and now it's started. Jackson got to your father before you could. It's all your fault. You stopped being close to your family. You lost all contact with them all those years. You just started to build things up again, but Jackson was one step ahead of you as always.

"Dad…I-"

"I'm so sorry. What kind of fucking father lets his 17-year-old daughter move to Hollywood alone and for the last ten years be-"

"Dad! I'll handle it so-"

"No. I'll handle it." Your father cuts you off.

"Mom is working for Jackson. Her firm is representing him." You finally say. Your father freezes up. This time, you make eye contact with him.

"She-She wouldn't do that if you tell her he-"

"They met me together. She knows what is happening, and she chose her side."

"She only knows his side because he is her client. Honey, if we tell her she will-"

"What? Protect me? She hasn't done that since the day I was born."

Your father shakes his head at all this news. You don't even know where to start. Jackson owns part of your father's business. Your father built his construction business from the bottom up, and now, with Jackson involved, this will only further go to Hell for you.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault for being gullible. I can't imagine what you've been through, sweetheart, but I promise I will make it right."

"You can't dad. I have to do this alone. If you get involved, Jackson will ruin your business and-"

"The business doesn't matter. You are my daughter. I failed at protecting you before, and I won't fail again." Your father pulls you into a hug as Joe appears. You break apart and let your father settle in his room while you and Joe talk in the kitchen. You tell Joe the news your father shared with you about the company.

"I'll buy Jackson's half. Let's ask Janet and Alex to put that in the agreement." You state, holding onto Joe. Joe calls Janet, Alex, and Eliza over.

"Before we can do anything, I want to talk to Jackson. Alone."

"I don't think that is a good idea." Eliza steps in, looking at Joe for backup. Joe takes your hand.

"We have to let her make her own choices. I'm going to support her no matter what. Let her do it." Joe replies. You give him a soft smile. After a few more talk-throughs, you end the night by checking on your father. He states that he wants you to speak to your mother so that she can hear your side. You tell him that isn't an option yet. You return to your bedroom and cuddle next to your boyfriend. You both know the road ahead will be challenging, but as long as you have Joe, you know you can do it.

You sit across Jackson and take a deep breath.

"I want to buy back your half of my father's company, " you say flat out. Jackson throws his head back, laughing.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm pressing charges against you, Jackson. Everything that you have done to me will be brought to light. I am giving you the chance to fix things."

"You're not going to win. Get that through your head. Come back to me, and all of this can stop. It's your word against mine. I need you to think this through. You have no proof." Jackson chuckles.

"I-"

"I will ruin your brother's life. Aaron? Is it? Your youngest brother, right? Just getting his name out in the entertainment world, right? I will have him fucking blacklisted." Jackson threatens.

"Why are you doing this to me, Jackson? What did I do to you?"

"Come back to me, and this can be over. Your father…the rest of your family. I will leave them alone. Joe included."

You bite your lip and look around the room. A few feet away, Karen is urging you to agree to the terms.

"I want to be happy." You whisper, holding back tears. Jackson reaches over and touches your hand.

"I can make you happy like I did before. I'm different. I've changed. Let me show you." Jackson rubs the back of your hand. You shake your head.

"Joe…I love him." You finally let the words come out of your mouth. You love Joe, and it's taken you forever to say the words in fear of what your future would look like with him. But you know now that your future with Joe is as bright as the stars. Jackson starts laughing.

"No. You have no idea what you're saying right now. I have given you everything I have. I have loved you from the moment we met. You promised your life to me. Marriage kids…All of that is our future."

"I can't have kids anymore! You made sure of that! I will never come back to you. My family is stronger than you think. I've told them what you've done to me and what to expect moving forward. I gave you this meeting for a chance to change your ways, but you refused. My lawyers will be in touch." You grab your purse and exit the room. Karen chases after you and grabs your wrist.

"Think about what you're doing. Jackson is giving you the chance to make things right. Go back to him and protect your family. He can and will make everyone's life worse." Karen states, shaking your shoulders. You remove her grip and stare at her.

"You're such a sad woman. You continue to live in his spotlight, not seeing the good you could do by standing by my side. Jackson only cares for himself. The quicker you learn, the faster you will live a much better life, Karen. Testify against him. Win and be out from under his shadow. I'm doing this as a courtesy. You were supposed to protect me, and you didn't. You continue to let that man get away with everything. You're just as guilty as him in my eyes…But I'm giving you the chance to make up for your mistakes." You don't break eye contact and do your best to read over Karen's facial expression. You give her shoulder a few taps and walk away. Karen turns and walks back into the room to find Jackson pacing. You go to the lobby, where you find your boyfriend in disguise, just people-watching. You walk over and bend down, scaring him.

"I said I could do this alone." You whisper, pulling down his sunglasses. Joe shrugs.

"Just in case he tried anything. I wanted you to know you're not alone."

You kiss his lips and pull him up. The both of you exit the hotel. The ride back home sends your mind racing. You're sure your father has told your brothers, but you're not ready to face them yet, so you've been ignoring their calls. At home, Eliza, Janet, and Alex wait for the update. You tell them what everyone already knows. Jackson won't let you repurchase your dad's company; he refuses to settle. You give Janet and Alex the okay to file charges in California. With things in motion, you take the time to go to LA and finish some business for a week.

You giggle as you read over the text from Joe. Everyone in the room can see how much you glow at the mention of the football player. You can't wipe the smile off your face when you get called Joe Burrow's girlfriend. You're finally free to enjoy Joe in front of the world. It was a crazy mix of reactions, but for the most part, everyone is obsessed with the both of you.

"Yeah, she is finished up for the magazine spread. We will do a quick Q&A and then wrap it up." Eliza shouts on set. You text Joe a goodbye followed by a kissy face emoji. You miss him, but with his training for the upcoming season, you had to fly out and get some photoshoots done for your upcoming movie. You sit on the white sofa as your makeup artist comes and touches you up.

"So we have a special person here to help us out with this interview." The photographer announces. Your body freezes up, and you look at Eliza with horror written on your face. Jackson. It has to be Jackson. But as your special guest appears, your horror-struck eyes become filled with admiration. Joe smiles and takes a seat on the couch. Your mouth is wide open as you stare at him in complete shock. You launch yourself onto his lap as he laughs.

"Suprise, baby," Joe whispers in your ear. You lean back, and he kisses your lips.

"What's this?" You ask as Eliza hands you cards. You read over the cards.

"GQ couples quiz," Joe replies, fixing his shirt and licking your chocolate Fenty lipgloss off his lips. You cannot wipe the smile off your face as you read over the cards.

"You guys ready?" Eliza asks. You nod eagerly and sit back, wiggling in your seat. You start by introducing yourself and Joe.

"What's my favorite color?" You ask. Joe scratches his head, laughing.

"That's easy, yellow. Not too bright, like a nice mellow yellow. Not the drink." Joe laughs, replying. You nod and ding him for the point.

"What food do I love, and what food do I hate?" You ask next. Joe laughs and leans back. He takes a moment to think, and you give him a look.

"She loves lasagna, and she hates soups. Any soup she complains, but she also hates onion, but she will tear French Onion soup up, so it's like weird." Joe sits up, staring at you. You hide behind your cards, giggling.

"French onion is just too good! Okay, what's my favorite fast food, and what is my go to order?"

"You don't even eat out like that, umm, Chick-fil-A, and she always gets the Cool Wrap with extra ranch packet, a lemonade, and fries." He replies. You clap for him and tell them to give him extra points.

"He's so attentive like I barely eat out. I think I had that when we first started dating. Speaking of, how did you ask me out?"

"This is embarrassing. When we first started talking, we would send each other songs. So, I sent her Girlfriend by Charlie Puth. She messaged me and asked, What does this mean? And I replied precisely what the song says."

"What did you respond?" A guy asks off camera. You giggle behind the cards.

"Yes. I didn't send a song back because I was so shy and too busy giggling." You reply, flipping to the next card.

"What did you do for the first date?" The guy asks. You look at Joe, letting him take the lead.

"We did ABC dates for the first 26 dates; we did something corresponding to the alphabet. So, date one was an aquarium date." Joe smiles at you, shooting you a wink.

"Who said I love you first?" You ask, reading the next card. Joe leans back, laughing.

"I did. I knew I was in love with her from the first date. Without reading the little cards next to each animal, she would start this long rant about information on them. I was fascinated and had to stand back and stare at her. Although when I first said I love you, it threw her off, and she ghosted me for weeks."

"Joseph!" You giggle playfully, shoving him. Joe whispers that he loves you, and your heart flutters. You blow him a kiss and read the next card.

"How did we meet?"

"At her cousin's wedding. I knew the groom, and they introduced us, so I owe Matty a big thank you.

"Were you a fan of hers before meeting her?" The director asks. Joe nods his head.

"I was. Who isn't a fan? After we started hanging out, I did a deep dive for sure, but haha, I was always a fan. My family members are huge fans of her, so it worked out." Joe replies, licking his lips. You hide behind your cards.

"What's my favorite movie."

"Titanic."

"Ding! What's a pet peeve you have about me."

"None. I'm too in love with you. Next question."

"There has to be one. I won't get upset." You reply, waiting for an answer.

"Hmmm. She falls asleep with the TV on. I like silence. But I would do anything to keep her happy, so I don't care." Joe states, grinning.

"What's the first thing I made you to eat?"

"Man…I think it was spaghetti or something."

"Ding. That's correct." You give your boyfriend a few claps.

"What was my favorite subject in school?"

"I think English? No history. She's a history buff!" Joe replies you give him another ding for his correction.

"What's my phone number?"

"I can't say that. Are they going to beep it out?" Joe asks. The producers give him a thumbs up, and Joe gives out your phone number.

"She doesn't know my number."

"To be fair, I don't remember anyone's number." You laugh and go to the next card.

"What is your favorite thing about me?" This time, when you ask, you stare straight into those blue orbs across from you. Joe leans forward and takes your hand.

"I love everything about you. I love that our humor is the same. I love how you protect those you love. I love the way your mind works. I love your strength. I never thought I would be able to fall more in love with you, but every day, you show me that's possible." Joe rubs the back of your hand, and you look away, holding back tears.

"Give him all the points, " you jokingly state, wiping your eyes. You toss the cards and throw yourself at your boyfriend, causing the set to laugh. After you guys wrap up on set, Joe follows you back to the hotel. You guys find yourselves in bed kissing each other endlessly. Your mouth detaches from Joe's, only to breathe in and return to his lips. Joe moans into the kiss, causing you to squeeze your thighs together involuntarily.

"Take this off," Joe whispers, pulling at your t-shirt. You sit up and toss it to the floor. Joe pulls you back on top of his lap and takes your nipple into his mouth. You look down at him with glossy eyes. Joe grips your hips tightly. You hiss as he pulls back slowly on your nipple between his teeth. Joe sucks on it gently, and you rake your fingers through his hair. While Joe is busy sucking on your nipple, you move your hand down to the waistband of his briefs, releasing his cock. Joe releases your nipple and stares up at you as you start pumping him in your hand. Joe lifts you and sheaths himself entirely in you. You both sigh while you clench around his shaft.

"Fuck baby, don't do that. I'm going to cum." Joe whispers, pulling you back down for a messy kiss.

"Missed this so so much," You pull away from the kiss and lean back as Joe starts bouncing you up and down on his cock. You lean forward so that your forehead touches his.

"Yeah, you miss this. Such a good girl." Joe groans, feeling you clench around him again. He slaps your thigh, and you giggle. You bend down and capture his lips. Joe's kisses are lazy because he is too focused on bouncing you up and down his cock chasing his release. It's only been a week of separation, but your dear boyfriend desperately wanted you. Joe groans when you pull his head back by his hair. You start leaving open mouth kisses on his neck.

"I'm cumming." Joe groans as you suck on his neck. You giggle and pull back to see your handy work. Joe sighs, holding you down as you continue to milk everything he gives you. You pick yourself up and plop down on the bed beside him. Joe rolls over and stares at you. Before you got here, Joe had spent at least 15 minutes devouring you, so it was only fair he got his ending, too. You can feel his semen dripping down your legs, which makes you giggle at the sensation.

"What?" Joe asks.

"The strike started, so I won't be promoting anything. I can give all my time to you." You whisper. Joe closes his eyes.

"Do you trust me, Joseph?"

"With my whole heart."

You close your eyes and join your boyfriend in a deep sleep. The next day, you and Joe find yourselves eating out. A few fans ask for photos and autographs which you both have no problem doing. When you return to your hotel, you and Joe take a hot shower, not missing a moment to touch each other. After the shower, you take a much-needed nap. You and Joe fly back home and bury yourself in the case you are building against Jackson. You have not spoken to your father since he shared about your mother. Your brothers have tried to reach out to you, but you're not ready for that talk.

"Can you go into more detail about the Oscar night?" Janet asks, bringing you back to the present. You ignore your oldest brother's text and place your phone on the table.

"Like what?"

"Did he assault you?… Physically?" She clarifies. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

"How long do we need to do this? I have surgery today." You state changing the subject. Janet looks at Alex.

"We can end here. Are you nervous about the surgery?"

"Yes, I want it to work out. I want to be a mother, " you reply.

Alex drives you to the hospital, where Joe meets you. He kisses your lips and tells you how brave you are then you are and that he will be waiting for you when you wake up. And just like he promised, Joe was at your side when you woke up and through recovery. Before you knew it, the season started. As always, you went to the games with his family and cheered him on. You ran into Jackson once and were surprised by the outcome.

"You win. Have your team contact mine. I'll follow whatever rules you set." Jackson stated. You stared at him in disbelief.

"First, let me buy back my father's company."

"You wanted a legit deal, have your team contact mine."

"Fine." You say, turning to walk away, but JAckson's next word surprises you.

"I'm sorry."

You can't find it in yourself to turn back and face him, but hearing those exact words you heard so many times from him seems haunting. You get the courage to turn around and face him with tears in your eyes; you take a deep breath.

"This could have all been avoided. What you have done to me, I'll never be able to forgive you, so keep your apology. Your words mean absolutely nothing to me." You state sternly. Jackson chuckles and wipes his face.

"For what it's worth, I loved you. I truly loved you."

"Well, you had a fucked up way of showing it."

"Get away from her." You hear Joe's mother shout. She quickly steps in between you. Jackson nods his head and walks away. She turns around and pulls you into a hug. You and Joe had sat down with his parents and broke the news a few weeks ago. Her actions shocked you but warmed your heart.

"Are you okay? Did he say anything to you-"

"Mrs.Burrow, I'm-"

"Mom. I told you to call me mom…if that's okay." She whispers, cupping your face to wipe the tears. You smile and nod.

"Mom, I'm okay." You sniffle, and she hugs you again. You guys make your way to the game. It has been a stressful few weeks for Joe, from your surgery to losing a few games. Joe always took it so hard and blamed himself. But you were there to comfort him always. After the team won, you guys went out to celebrate. Joe's hand never left yours through the night. You sipped your drink and leaned over.

"It's been four weeks, and I got the okay from my doctor. So-"

"Check this out." Andrei holds up his phone to Joe. Joe reads the headline, and you watch his face twist. You lean over to read it yourself, your hand moving faster than you can process as you rip the phone from Joe's hand.

"Jackson and longtime girlfriend are expecting their first child…. longtime girlfriend?"

Andrei looks at Joe, confused. You hand the phone back and storm out of the party. This is why he was so uncaring. You call Janet, and she already knows. It's a complete wrench thrown in your plan.

"We should still meet him and go over the contract. He doesn't want it to get out so-"

You hang up and lean over, feeling sick. Joe comes to comfort you. You don't know if it's the news or the drinks, but you're dizzy. Joe holds your waist and steadies you on your feet. You guys leave the celebration as paparazzi snap away, screaming questions at you. You get into the vehicle and break down. Joe pulls you into his arms. In times like this, he feels so hopeless; the only thing he can give you is comfort. You cry well into the morning, and when you wake up, you suffer from puffy eyes and sore throat.

"We can reschedule this meeting if you're not up to this today," Joe states. You ignore him and continue fixing your makeup.

"Honey-"

"Just stop! I don't need to be babied. You're suffocating me!" You shout, slamming the door in his face. You didn't mean to lash out, but you're stressed. Jackson is always steps ahead of you. After you finish getting ready, you look for Joe to apologize. You find him on the phone in the kitchen. LA is not a good place for you; you want to run back to Ohio with Joe as soon as possible. Joe hangs up the phone and turns to you with a half smile.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Joe shrugs.

"We should get going. Janet just called and said Jackson is there already…with your mother."

The bad news keeps rolling in. You guys meet at Jackson's local law firm. Janet and Alex are already there. You look over at Jackson's "girlfriend" and roll your eyes. You know her. It's someone you trained with in the past, but she never broke out as a star. You tell the ladies you will meet them inside the conference room.

"How long have you been with Jackson?" You ask her. She rubs her belly.

"Going on eight years."

You laugh and throw your head back. Courtney stares at you, not amused.

"How much is he paying you to say that? You know he was with me-"

"You're delusional. You and Jackson had a strictly professional relationship. He told me how obsessed you were."

"Court, we trained together. You saw me and Jackson together all the time. He-"

"He said you guys messed around once, and you just wouldn't back off."

"You can't honestly think he is going to treat you better? He is not sane. He will crush you until there is nothing left."

"Look, he helped your career. Be fucking grateful. I want that, too. Unlike you, I won't let him break me because we both need something from each other." Courtney says with a smile. She bumps into you and walks into the room. Jackson makes his way over.

"Courtney. Longtime girlfriend? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. What we had was fun, but you can't honestly think you were the only one. Right?" Jackson chuckles and brushes the hair from your face. He kisses your forehead.

"You made me an enemy, and I told you it wouldn't be pretty. Listen to me next time." He says before backing off and walking away. You get yourself composed before walking into the room and spotting your mother. Janet and Alex start going over your demands. Jackson agrees with them all, but you have zoned out.

"No deal." You interrupt. Everyone stops talking and looks at you.

"What?"

"You can't buy my silence. You took my voice a long time ago, but it's back. I won't let you get away with anything you did. I'll see you in court." You stand up and walk out as Jackson calls after you. Janet and Alex will follow you out. Joe waited in the care for you. You shock him when you climb into the car.

"What happened?-"

"Please just drive." You say. Joe nods and pulls out. Once you guys reach the parking garage, climb onto his lap and kiss him. Joe tries to talk between kisses but can't catch a break. He finally lightly grabs your hair and pulls you back.

"Baby? Talk to me."

"You're right. I need to speak up so other women know what kind of person he is…I'm taking him to court." You lean back and look into his blue eyes. Joe nods his head.

"I'm proud of you."

And when Janet and Alex reach your hotel, you have everything drawn up and the story released. Your comment section on IG becomes too much that you deactivate them. Joe suffers an injury, and life seems to be slapping you both down. The world was calling you a liar, and though they didn't say it to your face, some co-stars sided with Jackson. Jackson was thriving, just as you expected, until some lip reader on TikTok posted just the evidence needed. Eliza handed you her phone.

"Do you remember that day?" She asks

"Here he is telling her, fix your face before I fix it for you. And then you see her smile." The girl states, pointing out Jackson's words. Of course, you remember that night. It was Emmy night, and Jackson had screamed at you the whole way over about the dress you wore being too revealing even though he controlled every aspect of you. He chose that dress. Another tiktoker who is known for body language analyzes the same clip.

"Look how tight he grabs her wrist when she tries to walk away. Jackson Taylor is an abusive man. Hashtag, we believe you." The guy states. You continue to look through the hashtag and see that you have gained support. People believe you.

"I have to see this through. I have to be open about everything." You whisper. Your eyes drift to Joe, who is on the phone in the kitchen. Eliza follows your gaze. Once Joe is off the phone, he finds you alone in the living room, staring at the blank TV.

"Hey."

You pat the seat next to you.

"What's up?" He asks, taking a seat.

"This is going to be a long process for me. I need the space to see this through."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm moving back to LA."

"I can come to stay with you and-"

"You need to focus on healing…and in a way, so do I."

"I don't get what you're saying?" Joe nervously chuckles.

"Joe, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't give you all of me because he still has it. It's not fair to you or me. I have to fight him and this alone. I need my focus to be on this."

Joe stands up abruptly, scaring you for a second.

"I have been supportive. I have been the supportive boyfriend this whole time! And you're going to leave me just like that. When I'm at my weakest?"

"Stop yelling, please. I know this is frustrating, but-"

"But nothing!"

"Joe, this is hard for me too!"

"Then fight for us too? I love you. I have shown you time and time again. After everything we've been through, you can drop us like that?"

"Joe, I can't love you like you love me. I'm broken. I told you from the start. I told you. Nothing can fix me." You cry. Eliza comes from her bedroom, shocked about all the noise.

"I'm begging you to fight for us."

"I don't have any more fights left. I'm sorry, Joe." You whisper. Joe stands still, letting the silence fill the room. It's selfish. He knows it, but if he has to be selfish to keep you near him, he will become the most selfish person on the planet. But you're walking away from him. Joe can hear you saying words, but he can't understand them. It's as if you're speaking another language. Finally, Eliza brings him back.

"She's gone. She asked me to pack up her things and have it shipped to LA. I'm sorry, Joe. I'm shocked as you."

"I have to let her go. I can't be another guy that forces her to be in a relationship." Joe whispers and walks away. Eliza finds you in the car crying. She is confused by your actions, but she trusts that the both of you will find your way back to each other.

When you return to LA, rumors spread about you and Joe breaking up. People speculate that he broke up with you for obvious reasons. You keep yourself busy with Janet and Alex. Sometimes, you find yourself asking Janet about Joe. She tells you he's doing better, which is all you wanted. The hardest part about the case was getting people to speak up against Jackson. Everyone you emailed denied any involvement, even your old manager. Finally, one day, you get a visit from your old makeup artist.

"I'll testify." She states flat out. Janet smiles and nods.

"What can you bring to the table?" Alex asks.

"I was her makeup artist for two years. I can't tell you how many bruises I was paid to cover in those two years. I confronted Jackson, and he fired me. He threatened my family….when she found out she had paid me in secret for years. I've been running some of her clinics for women who are running from DV situations. I will tell them everything." Viola squeezes your hand, and you pull her into a hug.

"You helped so many women; they don't even know it. Thank you." Viola states. You are pulled into a hug and smile. Viola leaves you with Janet.

"Why didn't you tell me about the clinics? This-"

"Because they are all under Viola's name. I didn't want to have my name attached because of Jackson." You reply.

"This is huge. With her testimony, we really have something." Janet leans over the rail, looking out at the city.

"I miss him." You say, staring at the pool.

"He misses you too," Janet replies.

"He's never going to forgive me."

"He's upset, but I'm sure he would fall on his hands and knees if you walked into his door. I have never seen little Joseph so in love."

The thought makes you smile, but you know, deep down inside, Joe deserves someone with less baggage and Less damage. Because that's what you were… damaged goods. Some other guys ruined artwork. Joe could never put back the pieces.

"Your mom is here." Eliza interrupts. You take a deep breath. You were the one who called her to visit, so it's time to face the woman who gave birth to you.

it has been so longggg. I am sorry! But I am back. I am doing much better. I had a grippy sock vacation in the fall but I am feeling much better haha. This chapter sucks but we MOVE! I am getting back into the groove of writing again lol

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joey b #nfl imagine

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the-offside-rule · 6 months

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Carlos Sainz Jr (Scuderia Ferrari) - Get A Grip

Requested: via wattpad

Prompt: Carlos was a huge red flag during their relationship and then when Y/n glows up after they breakup, he tries to get back with her but she was having none of it because she was seeing another driver on the grid (you can choose)

Warnings: Carlos getting eaten alive (not actually just...metaphorically) AND THID IS A GIVEN BUT THIS IS COMPLETELY FICTIONAL

Monaco 2022. Y/n sat with her boyfriend in a nightclub as his shiny P2 trophy stood proudly on the table, surrounded by bottles and glasses. Y/n smiled uncomfortably as her boyfriend laid his arm around her shoulders and charted happily with his engineers. Yn played with the rings on her fingers, catching the attention of her boyfriend. Well that wasn't true. The engineer he was talking to noticed it and told Carlos. That made it worst. "You okay?" Carlos asked. Y/n nodded. "Is this one of those tricks where you say you are but you aren't?" She nodded again. "Well, whats wrong then?" He asked harshly. "I don't want to be here." She told him. Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out the card to their room. "I'll be up in an hour. Order yourself food or something." She held her card in her hand, staring at it blankly. "Carlos, I want you to come with me."

"I don't want to leave yet." Carlos replied. "But I came here, not wanting to go out." Y/n said. "I got a podium. Of course I'm going to go out." Carlos scoffed. "You got podiums last season and we stayed in and had dinner. Why can't we do that?" She asked desperately. "Because we're in Monaco-" She cut him off"You got a podium in Monaco last year too!"

"Y/n, get a grip." Y/n felt her heart shattering. "What?" She asked. "Well, Im your boyfriend. I don't know how I am meant to help you with this." Carlos took another swig of his glass and set it down. "You could try and reassure me maybe. Just a thought!" She stood up and left, hearing Carlos call after her, but stopping after a single try.

"I don't know what to do Lily." Y/n sobbed in the bathroom. "I would dump him." Lily said, moving a piece of Y/n's behind her hair. "I- I can't see myself without him." Y/n sniffled. "Look, I couldn't see myself without Alex, sweetie, but if he spoke to me that way I'd find a way to be without him." It seemed so easy for Lily. Y/n physically couldn't think of a life where Carlos wasn't around. "I can't." Lily gave her fellow wag a sympathetic smile and hugged her. "Come on. Let's go. We don't want people seeing you like this."

Y/n and Lily walked through the dancing crowd, making their way to the VIP area where all the drivers stayed. As the security opened the red rope for the ladies to walk through,their eyes set on "What we're you doing with that girl?" Y/n asked, looking at Carlos with eyes full of rage. "She wanted a photo and we got a photo." Carlos said. "You kissed her on the cheek." Carlos groaned. "Wow, a kiss on the cheek. This is what I mean, you always-" She didn't like after that. It was seeing Carlos finally doing what everyone was telling her he does. "I'm done." She mumbled. "What?" Carlos asked. "I- I'm done." Carlos' face dropped. "Y/n-" She turned and walked away, leaving that life behind her. She would never let another man treat her the way he did again.

After the break up was announced, a lot of news came out about Carlos. A lot from girls he supposedly slept with at races Y/n didn't attend. How they all allegedly were invited to races Y/n wouldn't be at, and even some that Y/n was at. Regardless of if she was there or not, he cheated. God knows what would have happened if Y/n hadn't left the bathroom I Monaco. Maybe he would have gone further with that "fan". All she could do right now, was simply move on and build a life without him. And that was exactly what she did.

The 2023 summer break had finished and Carlos had partied more or less every weekend, racking up a body count but not wanting any of the girls to stay. He miled for photos and signed things for fans as he entered the paddock. As he walked on, past the flash mob and fans, another driver caught his attention. He heard the cameras flashing and turned to see Max walking in with a girl. It wasnt the girlfriend he had back at testing, she was different and he could tell by the colour of the hair. He pulled a face but continued walking to the Ferrari hospitality. He watched through the tinted windows to get a closer look. "Who are we stalking?" Charles asked, standing beside his teammate. "Max has a new girlfriend." Carlos muttered. "You're sure it's not the same as testing?" Charles asked. "No, the hair is different. So is the style." Carlos replied. "Hair dye, hired a stylist." Charles chuckled. "No, believe me. She's different! Look!" Carlos and Charles' gaze fell onto the girl holding hands with Max as the both laughed with eachother. Charles looked over to Carlos, waiting to see the moment realisation would settle in. "Is that-" He paused. Y/n.

"Well...she's a different girl." She was. Not only was she not the girl Max brought to testing, but she was barely even the girl Carlos had once dated. She changed immensely. She went back to her natural hair colour, instead of having it dyed and she changed her style. Her whole aura was different. "She is. Do you think Max has something to do with it?" He asked. "Or maybe your breakup." Carlos turned to Charles. "I'll go." Charles mumbled.

As the weeks passed, Carlos got sick of seeing Max winning, because it meant he'd see Y/n kissing him before he went to the podium each and every time, each time met with Carlos rolling his eyes.

In Qatar, Carlos didn't start and so he sat watching the race instead. As he walked through the paddock club, he spotted Y/n sipping a drink at a table with Jos. He didn't know what was happening, but he found himself walking over towards the table and before he could stop himself, he found himself shaking hands with Jos and having small talk as Y/n simply looked at him, Carlos looking back. "I need to go to the garage now, Carlos but it was nice catching up." Jos smiled as he turned to Y/n. "I'll see you there." Jos said to Y/n as she nodded. Jos left, leaving Carlos and Y/n to fill awkward silence. As Carlos stood there, watching the formation lap, he decided to speak.

"You know drivers move quickly." Carlos said to her. He face palmed himself in his mind. Why would he say that?! "Like how quickly you moved on from me?" Carlos clenched his jaw. Even when they weren't together, she drove him crazy. "You'd think you would have learned from the first driver." Y/n nodded. "The driver that has more bodies to his name than podiums? Yes. Of course." She rolled her eyes and went to walk away, but Carlos took hold of her hand. "Stop being like this. You were nothing like this with me, ever." Carlos said sternly. Y/b pulled her hand from his grip. "That was before you cheated. I've changed and you only think you have." He grabbed her again. This time when she looked back to him, the white in his eyes had turned as tears threatened to fall. "Carlos? Whats-"

"I- I can't find your face in these girls I try to be with. I need you. I miss you." Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as she was faced with Carlos, crying. It was the first time she'd ever seen him crying but she knew exactly what she had to do. "Carlos-" Y/n began, regrettfully caressing his face, a soft smile on her lips. A spark of hope lit up in Carlos' heart. "Get a grip." She whispered, before turning and walking back to the Red Bull garage to watch her boyfriend go onto win his third World championship.

And Carlos watched in envy as Y/n kissed Maxs helmet, just as she once did to his. Get a grip. It was his yurn turn get a grip.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc oneshot

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abbysbunny · 6 months

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puhlease PLEASE a hazel callahan fic takşng place after the movie when hazel thought the kiss was special but PJ is treating her the same so hazel tries to make PJ jealous with y/n but they actually start having feelings (at first passionate) towards each other????????

FEELING'S AREN'T FAKE

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plot: fake dating never works but sometimes it does just in different ways

warnings: light angst, nothing too serious, r is a cheerleader but that doesn't really affect the story!

word count: 1.8k

notes: sorry this took so long to get out but I'm a little burnt out rn! hope you like this anon🫶🏼

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after hazel and PJs kiss, hazel thought that something was there, she tried hanging out more with PJ, but she would just pushed away and end up getting hurt. one lonely night hazel had the bright idea that maybe she could try and make PJ jealous, of course it was a dumb idea but at this point it was all she had.

she opened your contact and sent you a short message proposing the plan

'hey I know it's late but I'm trying to make PJ jealous so I was thinking we could fake date for a while, you down?'

of course she rewrote the message a couple times but when she got it down she nervously pressed send. a half hour later she got your confirmation

'sure, make it simple please I don't wanna waste too much if me time on this'

she smiled at your message excited for tomorrow, trying to go to bed all she could think about was PJ, how she would finally get to be with her, after years of waiting.

you sat on your bed and typed on your computer trying to finish up an essay do tomorrow, but you kept getting distracted by the thought of fake dating hazel, after a long 40 minutes of homework you closed your computer and put on some comfortable clothes. laying in bed you turned over and shut your eyes all of your thoughts just being about hazel

you walked onto school campus and saw hazel sitting on a bench reading something in a small book, 'i wonder what she's reading' you furrowed your brows and started walked over to her, 'hey!' you shouted to her, she quickly looked up and waved at you, you sat down next to her and she closed her little book, 'whatcha reading?' you questioned, 'uhm...she drives me crazy' you nodded, 'okay so what's the plan stan' she chuckled at your lame attempt of a joke and turned her head to you.

'so were just gonna act like we're dating, so hug and flirt and hold hands, all that gross shit, and hopefully PJ will get jealous' she said with a look on her face insinuating she was a very proud of her plan, you nodded and stood back up, 'sounds great to me, I gotta get to class so I'll see you later' you waved and grabbed your bag, 'wait!' hazel said a little too loud, you perked your head up at her, 'shouldn't we go in...together?' she suggested in a nervous tone

'oh shit yeah you're right' you stuck out your hand for her to grab on to, she took your hand and you started walking side by side, you entered the hall and people already turned they're heads to look at you two, I mean it is pretty weird seeing a cheerleader and a total nobody date, you got to hazel's locker and you leaned against against the a near wall, out of the corner of your eyes you saw PJ and Josie walking towards you

'pj and Josie are coming over here' you whispered to hazel, she turned around and shut her locker, a couple seconds later they stood right in front of you, the weird thing is that you had never actually talked to them, so now that you "dating" they're friend you would have to, talking to the girl your crush fake girlfriend is in love with was not on your bucket list. as they started talking you zoned out mid conversation, they talk about such boring stuff, how were you supposed to keep up?

next thing you heard was the loud bell ring, you saw that they had left and now it was just you and hazel, and of course the swarm of students late to class. hazel unexpectedly grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, you both got to class in time, kinda. the boring school hours past by fast and as soon as you knew it was lunch, you thought you would sit down with your friends like you do everyday, but that was before you were pulled to a table in the corner of the cafeteria with hazel and the rest of the fight club.

as they talked you felt hazel's hand snake around your waist, you felt you face get hot but you continued eating, after an excruciating hour of listening to them talk as hazel moved her hand from your waist, to hips your to shoulder to your thigh, it was finally time to leave you packed everything up and sped out of the cafeteria, hazel catched up to you and walked with you out of school. you both sat down at the same bench from this morning

'so did I do good as a fake girlfriend?' she questioned with a cocky grin on her face, you rolled your eyes and turned your head to face her, sure having her as your fake girlfriend was gonna be nice but what if you catched even more feelings? what if her and PJ actually get together and you're just left alone again. 'you did pretty good' you said leaning against the back of the bench, you smiled and immediately started talking about the rest of the plan.

it has been 2 weeks of the fake dating and it really seemed like PJ didn't care, but tonight there was a big party at Isabel's, hazel thought it was perfect opportunity to make PJ "jealous". you decided to get ready together like a cute couple,hazel wore some simple baggy jeans and a white t-shirt, she almost looked like a frat guy, you chose what you usually wear to party's, nothing to flashy but nothing too simple.

when you got there it was loud and already smelled like BO and alcohol, you sat down on a couch with hazel by your side, she put her arm around your shoulder and you stiffed up, still not used to her touch. almost the whole party you say right there, getting up a couple time's to go to the bathroom, when the party died down, Isabel came out from the kitchen with an empty beer bottle, 'what are we 12!' PJ shouted, you chuckled and sat down next to Josie I'm the big circle of people

Isabel spinned the bottle and it landed on Josie, you could see Isabel blush and Josie had a nervous look on her face as they entered the small downstairs bathroom, after was felt like a life time someone yelled, 'seven minutes is up' you heard the door unlock before Isabel came out with a very visible hickey on her neck, some people gasped and others laughed, they sat back down and now it was Pj's turn, she spinned the empty bottle and it landed on, hazel.

hazel tired to hide her smile and she looked over to you, 'aren't you guys dating?' PJ looked at hazel then you, you opened your mouth to say maybe it was better if she re spinned, but before you could hazel spoke up, 'no it's okay, I mean it's just a dumb kids game right?' hazel looked at you trying to indicate that she really wanted to do this, you looked at the ground for a second before agreeing with her, some guy patted your shoulder and called you a 'chill girlfriend' you let out your best fake laugh and put your knees to your chest

meanwhile the scene of hazel and PJ in the bathroom was to say the least very awkward, 'so do we kiss?' hazel anxiously asked, PJ nodded and moved closer to her trying to make things more natural, hazel cupped PJs face and brought her lips to hers, she finally kissed PJ, after years of waiting she finally did it and she felt, nothing. absolutely nothing, she bearly even kissed back, you got up and told your friends you needed a drink and somehow they believed you, you walked into the kitchen grabbed your purse and left that god awful party, you didn't even think about saying goodbye because if you did you would have to watch them come out of that bathroom and see the start of they're relationship

hazel unlocked the door early and people were confused, 'you have to do seven minutes not three!' Sylvie shouted and people agreed, hazel noticed you weren't there and got worried, 'c'mon guys we're not middle schoolers and where's my girlfriend?' she shouted back, 'oh I think she left' some guy slurred clearly intoxicated, hazel grabbed her phone and said goodbye to everyone and that she was going to find you. what she didn't know was that you were already home by the time she had left, she urgently called you trying to understand where you were so you could talk

after 5 missed calls you finally picked up, 'where are you?' she said through the phone, 'home' you responded dryly, she let out a sigh of relief and started walking to your house still on the phone with you, 'why did you leave?' you thought about actually telling her why but the you remembered you actually dating, 'i was tired' she scoffed as she finally saw your house through the dark, 'open your front door please' she stood waiting impatiently for you, 'are you outside my house?'

you said walking down your stairs, 'yes just please open up it's cold' she hung up, you put your phone down and opened up your front door, you looked hazel up and down and saw no hickey, weird. you moved from the door and she stepped in, she shut the door behind her, you quickly grabbed her hand and took her to your room, she had never actually been in your room, you had been at her house but she'd never been to yours, you closed the door and say down on your bed next to her

'so why do you wanna talk haze?' she sighed and looked you straight in your eyes, 'i don't think I like PJ' she confessed, your eyes widened, had you done this whole plan for nothing, had you hurt yourself...for nothing? 'okay then who do you like? I'm not going to go through this plan another time just with a different person, I really hope you know that' you said in a frustrated tone, she moved closer to you and put her hand on your thigh, 'what the fuck was she doing?' you questioned to yourself

she just responded by crashing her lips with yours, at first you were taken aback, very taken aback, but then you felt how soft her lips were and how passionate and pure this moment was, you quickly kissed back and moved yourself closer to her, she dragged out the kiss for a couple more seconds before pulled away. you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, she laughed with you and pulled you into a tight hug.

'i love you' she mumbled into your shoulder, you sighed and kissed the side her neck, 'i love you too' you mumbled back.

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fanfiction #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan oneshot #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x fem reader

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

hotch being protective after a bullet grazes Y/N’s ear causing her ear to bleed and to have trouble hearing??

JJ's talking but you're not listening. Well, you're listening, but you're not hearing. There's a dull ringing in your left ear, brought on by the bullet that had whizzed past it hours earlier. The EMTs had let you go with copious amounts of bandages and a warning to stay away from loud noises as much as possible, but here you are on the jet, straining to hear your teammates converse.

"She said she caught Michael drawing on the bathroom wall," A deep voice from beside your right ear startles you, the only clear words you've heard for an hour. Hotch has leaned himself down to hover beside your ear, lips a centimeter away as he fills you in.

"Oh," You breathe, a chuckle lost in the sound, "Thanks."

"Mhm." He nods once, you know from the way his nose grazes your ear. "Does your head hurt?"

"A bit."

"I figured. Ears are sensitive, when we land you should go straight home and sleep. Set your phone to vibrate instead of ring, and stick it under your pillow. Trust me, alarms won't work."

Your brow furrows, "How do you know so much about this?"

"A while ago," Aaron starts, hesitant, "Before you joined. A bomb went off next to me, and it damaged my ear. The only time I've ever been late to work was because I couldn't hear my alarm."

"That and the time you got stabbed," You grumble, "I never knew a bomb went off next to you."

"It's not exactly small talk," He reaches for your hand, using the edge of his short fingernail to scrape dried blood out of the bed of your nail, a remnant from when you'd grasped your ear after the gunshot.

"This job sucks," You sigh, knocking your head against his shoulder. You've caught Rossi's attention, and he offers you a fond smile while you use Hotch as a pillow.

"It has its drawbacks. How's your ear?" Morgan lifts his chin in your direction, and though you've heard him clearly, you decide to tease him.

"What?" You lift your head from Hotch's shoulder, leaning in like you can't hear him. Prentiss snorts, and you double down.

"How's your ear?" Derek taps his own, and you scrunch your nose.

"Huh?"

"Stop," Aaron chuckles, elbowing you in the side. Derek finally catches on amidst his team members giggles, and kicks you softly under the table.

"It's okay," You groan, burying your face in your crossed arms on the table when JJ leans into your side. One of Hotch's large hands comes up to rub against your back in soothing circles, and the tension in your shoulders loosens.

Conversation resumes after a sympathetic moment of silence for you. You aren't roused from your drowsy snooze when the plane lands, unable to hear the rough rumbling of the engine, but Aaron gets close to your ear to let you know you've arrived.

"Y/N," He brushes hair away from your face, hand heavy on your shoulder, "We're here. I got your bag, can you drive?"

"I'm deaf, not blind," You huff, grumpy when awoken, "I can drive."

"Okay," Aaron chuckles, familiar with your post-nap grouchiness, "Here. Your bag is on the table, okay?"

"Mhm," You nod, rubbing sleep from your eyes as he heads for the door, "See you tonight, Aaron."

You don't need to hear him to know that he tells you he loves you when he steps off the jet, but you see the blush on his cheeks just fine when you return the sentiment.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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iluvsturn · 2 months

Text

not like that-c.s

warning: sad then happy :)

a/n:send request !!

It can't end like this, 3 years of relationship, 3 years of joy, 3 years of love. And everything stopped and everything disappeared in 3 simple little words.

It's the worst thing that could have happened in 3 years despite all the arguments they had, everything settled the same day. But this time everything is different.

Their hearts are empty, everything is empty and gray around them. All these colors that surrounded them and intensified their love; gone into a spin.

Chris no longer leaves his room, he feels so guilty for having said three destructive words. The guilt is eating him from the inside. This girl he loved so much, for who he would give his own life, the girl for who he could give up everything, slipped through his fingers like sand.

His first girlfriend, the first girl he trusted completely..

Matt and Nick, his brothers, did everything to help him; take him out, meet new people...But nothing can repair what he destroyed.

y/n, on her part, is trying to move on she no longer goes on her phone to make sure she doesn't come across photos of them, she tries to go out and meet new people, but everything is too hard, nothing can repair what he has destroyed.

It's been 2 months now, 2 months without contact. Chris wants to call her, hug her, kiss her, tell her how sorry he is, how much he regrets everything.

y/n, her, is waiting for his message, all she wants is to be able to feel him close to her, to hear his laugh and contemplating how his eyes closed when he laughed. She only wants to receive a sorry that she desires so much.

"Chris we're eating, come on." Nick says from behind his brother's door. "I'm not hungry" he replies, like every time. "Chris please you're starting to scare us, you'll get over it "he continues.

The door opens suddenly, showing Chris, tired and thin from not eating anymore, only cans of pepsi lying on the ground.

“she is everything to me, I love her so much and I let her go,i’m the worst.”

A tear runs down his cheek as he climbs the stairs to the kitchen.

"chris, if you're in so much pain from losing her why aren't you doing anything about it? By staying in your room doing nothing you've been losing her more and more. I don't even think she’ll accept.It beens 2 months"

His words break him even more, losing her? forever? No, no he can't live without her, he can't let her go again.

“I’m calling her”

She watches her phone ring, the name chris❤️ which she still hasn't managed to change.

"are you going to answer?" asks stella, y/n's best friend.

the call ends.

“I think you two should talk.”

y/n nods, “i’ll call him again.”

he picks up directly,

“y/n?” his voice cracks,

“hi chris”

“y/n, my love, I’m so sorry I love you so much please I didn’t mean what I said”

“but you said it” she retorts.

An embarrassing silence falls between the two, feeling guilty for having said that, she speaks again.

“don’t you think we should talk about it, like, in real life?”

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes, is that okay?”

“hm”

Chris is in front of y/n's house, he's shaking and a ball of stress is forming in his stomach after sending a message that he was there.

y/n just put on her shoes and didn't do anything else, what's the point of preparing herself if it might be the very end with him?

He gets out of his car, his hands sweaty and his voice trembling. He feels so bad seeing her with one of his sweaters, this sweater that she only wears when she needs comfort but he isn't there for her, she says it's like he was there with her in his arms. But this sweater wasn't meant to be worn because of him.

"I feel like a fool for letting our argument tear us apart like this. With each day that passes, I realize how stupid I was to let you go. I regret every word I said. You were the light of my life, my rock, my source of happiness. Now that you're gone, not a moment goes by without me regretting our argument. I would give anything to go back and change things. Because I love you, you are essential to my life. I know words are not enough to erase the pain I have caused you, but I am begging you to give me another chance. I will do everything in my power to prove to you that I am sincere, that I am ready to change, to become a better man for you.I love you more than anything in the world,y/n. And I sincerely hope that you can forgive me one day.”

“I love you too, Chris.”

a source of hope returns to Chris as he hears his words fall from her mouth.

“you hurt me so much,and i’m still hurt, but I can’t, I can’t leave and forget you.”

he nods.

“I forgive you Chris”

She slowly approaches him. Without waiting he glues his lips to hers, they share a kiss that they have never shared before, a kiss filled with guilt, love and words that they cannot reach to say to each other.

They lift their heads but stay forehead to forehead.

"do you want to become my girlfriend again y/n?"

a huge smile forms on the face of the pretty y/n, a smile that chris wanted to see again.

“it never ended for me, chris”

and with that, they kiss like the first kiss they ever shared.

-haz🩷

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #Spotify

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kenmakodz · 2 months

Text

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

11. i'll see you in court ☆

writing in-between cuts!

hugs are exchanged, and many many "i missed you"'s are exchanged. nobara's hands are shaky as she reaches out to her girlfriend, whom she hasn't seen for quite a few months. while they hug and whisper amongst themselves, yuuji envelopes you into a hug of your own, practically bouncing up and down. his words are jumbled and fast, for someone who doesn't know him, it'd be impossible to keep up. "we missed you so much and i know it hasn't been that long but for us it's felt like forever and we never realized how much we needed you back there and movie nights aren't the same without you and and-" a hand reaches up to his mouth, effectively silencing him. "relax, yuuji. i know you missed me." you smile, softening your words always seems to do the trick when he's bouncing off the walls like that. he gives you another quick hug before backing away, taking a short glance at yuuta before doing so.

... why did he look at me like that?

a small wave and a smile is exchanged between you and megumi, he's never really been one for hugs... or affection by any means.

after eventually wrapping up the dragged out greetings, nobara announces that she will 'drop dead' if she doesn't get something to eat immediately, so you're all headed to the dining hall as your first stop. you will periodically sneak glances at yuuta, who has his hands in his pockets and is seemingly glued to the side of toge. you wished he would walk next to you, give you any attention at all, but you're just friends. you aren't entitled to him. at least, that's the conclusion your brain has come to at this point. instead of your black-haired boy, yuuji is by your side rambling about all the different stops they took on the way here, and how nobara insisted on buying snacks at every single one. this conversation continues at the lunch table, which turns into the two of them pointing fingers at eachother back and forth, and megumi ready to put his head in his hands out of embarrassment.

you laugh, and it almost feels bittersweet for a split second. this feels so comfortable, something you've struggled to feel ever since moving here. of course, you couldn't have found a better group to surround yourself with; you're eternally grateful to your new friends for taking you in. but, nothing will beat the pure happiness that comes with being around the people who know you best. the ones who have seen you at your highest, your lowest, your... weirdest.. (we don't talk about mario kart nights). you may have made amazing friends at your home away from home, but these are your friends, your people. yuuta notices your demeanor, and his anxious gaze softens when he realizes what you're doing.

how can i be acting like this when she's so happy?

hands are placed on your shoulders, and you're (literally) shaken out of your thoughts. "earth to y/nnnn!" yuuji's voice rings through your ears as you fade back into the conversation, and you turn to him with silence, yet a look on your face that speaks volumes. his face brightens, and he retracts his hands, holding them up as an apology. "sorry, sorry, but you've been so dazed! we're about to leave!" your eyes widen, trying to recollect just how long you've been in your head for yet again. "where are we going?" you ask, turning to the rest of the group who starts to snicker at your confusion, when they've been talking about the location for at least five minutes at this point. "nobara wants to go shopping, so we're going to the mall." maki finally says, smiling at you thinking she knows something. you squint at her smugness, but brush it off once the group starts to head out.

i should've sat next to her instead.

after another sigh from maki, and matching pouts from you and nobara, a hand taps on your shoulder. you turn around and are met with yuuta, who pulls you slightly farther away from the two girls starting to bicker over whether or not a weighted sloth plushie is necessary. your hand doesn't leave his, and you look up at him puzzled. "what's wrong?" he just smiles and shakes his head, which confuses you more. "nothing, i just didn't want to tell you i'll buy you one in front of them" when those words leave his mouth, your eyes noticeably light up, and even with your best attempt at hiding it, it doesn't work. pushing him away slightly, you attempt to decline, but he's already dragging you back to where you were and picking one out with you.

"if i pick one with you, it'll belong to both of us"

"will i get shared custody?"

"i'll see you in court."

yuuta seems much more content than he was before after you two picked out a stuffed cat and named it charlie. but, he was very much still on his guard. he doesn't like the way yuuji puts his hands on you so often, and he doesn't like the way you allow it. but, you're not his, who is he to control you?

-> ooooooh boyy yuuta.. this boy has had his eyes on y/n since the moment the friend group arrived. he feels so guilty for being so jealous, but he wishes he was close with you the way you are with them. your actions and the way you carry yourself seem so much more laid back than how you are with him and the rest. he wants you to be that comfortable with him, why now is he realizing that you may have been tense? he thought you liked him, why do things feel weird all of a sudden..? is he too deep in his thoughts?

-> a bit of a timeskip happened! not much, just two days from when we last saw them :3 (i didn’t know how to fill the gap help)

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bella-rose29 · 3 months

Text

paper rings

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 10.2k words

Warnings: mild spoilers for the later books (this is set after TEG and they're all 18+), a LOT of mildly explicit innuendoes and sexual references, swearing

this is my Valentine's Day surprise that I've been talking about, so happy Valentine's Day to you all! <3

based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name

Anthony Lockwood masterlist

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and Y/n L/n was exhausted.

She had been on a case for the last seven hours and everything hurt and ached - including places in her body she didn't even know she had - and she just wanted her bed and an incredibly large cup of tea.

So why was she having to babysit three other agents who really should have been old enough to look after themselves?

Two of them seemed to be high on flare fumes, giggling about absolutely nothing and making weird sounds every few seconds. The third was smiling fondly at his friends and coworkers, but wasn't doing anything to stop them from getting closer and closer to the edge of their sanity.

Y/n sighed for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, and the third agent (the one who wasn't as insane as the other two - she'd nicknamed him Beanpole) looked over from where he was leaning back against the DEPRAC van with his arms crossed. Somehow he looked effortlessly cool and relaxed, despite the plasma stains and dirt covering his entire body.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine, just want to go home and stop looking after three other agents.”

“Ah, that’s fair. Wait, 'looking after’?”

“Yeah, Barnes told me to keep an eye on you three 'cause you were in trouble or something.”

“Oh, we're not in trouble,” he grinned, and although she rolled her eyes she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “Barnes just likes being dramatic. We didn't do anything.” Somehow she didn't believe him, but the sheer amount of charm that was pouring out of him was making her disregard any concerns she had about how truthful he was being.

“So what is it that you aren't in trouble for then?” His grin only grew wider, and Y/n found herself smiling back.

“Minor property damage. But in our defence our client didn't warn us about the malignant smoke that she'd seen creeping out of the basement or even the intense waves of nausea she felt when walking past her under stairs cupboard. So we really can't take any of the blame for completely decimating her bannisters and front hall. Plus, we're insured.”

“No you're not,” Barnes interrupted, joining the conversation and holding a manilla folder. “You didn't have your DEPRAC standardised iron chains, Lockwood. Not according to this report.” That made Beanpole (Lockwood? Although that didn't sound much like a name) stand up, uncrossing his arms as a frown decorated his pretty face.

“What? But we did, I made sure after Mrs Hope's house.” Y/n didn't know what had happened at Mrs Hope's house, but from the way Barnes was frowning even more than usual and somehow looking even more unimpressed with Beanpole she figured she didn't want to know. “You can go in and check if you like, they're still in the hall.”

“Fine. L/n, you go in and check.”

“What?”

“Just check the chains are there, then come back. They managed to at least get rid of the ghosts.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, hoisting her belt up a little and trudging off in the direction of the building Barnes had pointed her to. She shouldn't even be here, since she was meant to have been at home around half an hour ago, but now she was making her way into some random woman's house to carry out a job that any random DEPRAC officer could have done (if what Barnes had said about the other agents removing the Visitors was true). She pushed open the door, glad for her gloves at the chill in the air, and scoffed when she immediately laid eyes on the thick iron chains that had been kicked to the side in the fight. Y/n picked them up, huffing under the added weight, and was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on the state of the front hall. “What the actual fuck…” she whispered, then shook her head and closed the door behind her, choosing to ignore the mess inside.

“Well?” Barnes demanded when she'd made her way back. She dropped the chains at his feet.

“Yep. I don't know why I had to do that though, anyone could have looked.” She was being irritable, she knew, but she thought she was perfectly justified in feeling that way.

“Alright.” Barnes looked unhappy about the whole situation too, but that wasn't Y/n's fault. “Then just sign these papers and you three can go.” Beanpole was smiling smugly, and he nodded and took the papers that Barnes handed him.

“Thank you, Inspector. Luce, George, here.” They were both still laughing at something only they knew about, clutching their sides as they took the sheets of paper that Beanpole handed them.

“Can I go home too?” Y/n asked Barnes while the others signed the forms.

“Yeah. Maybe catch a ride with these three, they're your way.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later the four of them were piled into a taxi and heading off down the road in the direction of Marylebone.

“So,” Beanpole started. The moon was shining bright on his face through the taxi window, making him look like a Visitor himself when combined with his already pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He still looked effortlessly gorgeous though, and Y/n found herself wondering if he was single. “You're an agent then. Solo?”

“Oh, yeah. Never liked working for the big companies. They never really cared about the people, you know? Shit,” her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. “Are you a company?”

“Yes, but don't worry. We have a grand total of four people at our agency. Sometimes five or six if we get extra help from others.”

“That's... very small. Is the fourth your supervisor?”

“No, our secretary actually. Holly doesn't much like being in the field anymore though, but that works out alright for us. She still gets paid a good amount.”

“So if you don't have a supervisor…”

“I'm the agency head,” he smiled, but now instead of appearing chipper and light, he looked tired and weighed down by the responsibility of running a company and looking after his coworkers. “Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co.”

“Y/n L/n, formerly of Fittes.” They shook hands awkwardly in the limited space they had in the back of the taxi.

“And you left because they don't care about the people?”

“That's right. I always wanted to connect more, but I guess that's because of my Touch. Fittes were much more businesslike about it all, just going in and getting the job done and not caring about anything other than having another successful case under their belt. It just didn't sit right with me.”

“Well if you ever feel like working for a company again, you could always come and work with us,” Anthony Lockwood said. “I'm sure we could do with someone like you helping us out. Besides, we do care about the people; it's pretty much the only thing going for us other than our skill in the field.”

“First stop?” the driver called out, slowing the vehicle.

“Oh, that's me,” Y/n stated, grabbing the door handle and getting out. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She moved to the boot of the taxi to take her kit bag and rapier, and was surprised when Anthony Lockwood followed her, helping her to balance all the bags inside and making sure that nothing fell out. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. And I mean it, if you ever feel like joining us on a case then just come and find us.”

“That's... that's actually nice of you, thank you.” He nodded with a smile, then clambered back into the taxi (which looked difficult with how long and thin his limbs were). She stood on the pavement for a few moments, waiting for the taxi to start moving again and waving at the three agents left in the cab as they drove off down the road.

As soon as she was inside her shared house, door firmly shut and locked and kettle boiling on the stove, she pulled up the chair at her desk and switched on her computer, typing in her password and logging in. Ten minutes later she had a mug of tea brewing on her desk while she furiously tapped at the keyboard for any information on Lockwood and Co, and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. There wasn't much, since she couldn't access a lot of the full reports of cases, but there was a decent number of newspaper articles that had been uploaded for her to read. One detailed the £60,000 fine that the company had been given for setting fire to a certain Mrs Hope's home a few years prior, and from the blurry black and white photo the blaze looked like it hadn't left much behind.

Further research provided an address for their agency at 35 Portland Row, not far away from where she currently lived. One or two articles were about the parade incident from the Black Winter and Lockwood and Co's success in protecting the people present, but other than that there wasn't much more.

She sat back in her chair, sipping the last of her tea. Bedtime for now, but when she finally woke up she'd head to the nearest corner store and pick up some food. The fridge had been nearly empty when she'd looked earlier, and she knew that Portland Row was on the way back.

She wanted to say thank you again (and totally not spy on their house), and everybody loved a doughnut.

~~~

Y/n had knocked on the door roughly two minutes ago, and nobody had answered.

She knew that they were all at home, because she could hear them arguing about who was going to answer the door, but nobody had done it yet.

Knocking once more while balancing the box of doughnuts in her other hand she sighed, waited another thirty seconds, and just as she turned to leave she heard the locks click behind her. The door swung open to reveal Anthony Lockwood, once more dressed in a suit (a lot cleaner than the one he'd been wearing in the early hours of that morning), and a wide smile on his face.

“It's you! Miss L/n, was it?”

“Uh, yeah. Just Y/n is fine though. Um, I just wanted to say thanks again for the lift last night, and for being nice and shit when you didn't have to be, and I bought some doughnuts if you guys wanted them.” She tried to surreptitiously peer around him to take a look at his front hall, but the interior was quite dark and cluttered and it was difficult to pretend to not be inspecting somebody's home when they were stood in front of you.

“Oh, you really didn't have to, Y/n.” He took the box out of her hands anyway. “Did you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I should get back. I've got a lot of paperwork to get through and I think one of my housemates is cleaning today and wanted everyone's help, so…” she trailed off, rocking slightly on her heels while Anthony Lockwood watched her.

“Right, well, thanks for stopping by! And for the doughnuts, that was very generous of you.”

She shrugged. “I've had taxi rides with people I was actually working with and they were complete arseholes to me, so I really appreciated you not being like that when you didn't even know me.”

“Anytime.” He paused for a moment, then frowned at her. “How did you find us? I know I said that you could always drop by but I don't remember actually telling you where we live. There's not a problem with it, by the way, just curious.”

“Oh, I looked it up. Figured you meant to tell me and never got round to it. Besides, I needed to go shopping anyway and I live nearby, so it wasn't too difficult for me.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well it was lovely seeing you again, Y/n. I look forward to our next meeting.” His smile was infectious, and she still had a grin on her face at the thought of him when she went to bed that night.

~~~

For the next few months, both Y/n and Lockwood and Co were busy with their own cases, but regularly passed each other in the street. Anthony Lockwood had taken to sending her a wink or flirty quite early on, and because Y/n believed it impossible that someone like him was single and therefore able to chase after someone like her, she ignored him. Every now and then she would indulge him, of course, flirting back to see how he would react (he was always pleasantly surprised and kept their little game going for as long as he could before he was needed), but for the most part she would walk right past him.

It wasn't entirely her fault, since many of the times they bumped into each other she was on a time schedule, and didn't have the extra minute or so to flirt with the pretty boy.

The last time had been different, though.

~~~

“Hello again, darling,” a voice said from her left, and Y/n smiled when she recognised it right away as Lockwood's. They knew each other better now, from the few times that they had been able to talk for longer and ask how the other was doing, and when he had found out that she was calling him Anthony Lockwood in her head he gave her a look of barely contained amusement and told her she could pick one.

Anthony had felt too personal, since everyone else that spoke to him seemed to call him Lockwood, and she didn't think they knew each other that well for her to use his first name.

“Come here often?” he asked, appearing in her field of view and leaning on the table she was sat at in the small night café.

“Only when I know that you're going to be here,” Y/n responded, and delighted in the faint pink tinge that came onto his cheeks.

“May I?” He gestured to the chair opposite her, and she nodded.

“Not with your friends tonight?”

“No, they're probably at home already, lucky bastards. My case ran on a bit longer than I expected, and I couldn't wait for a cup of tea. Plus, when I saw you in here I couldn't not come and see you.”

They sat there for a while, making their way through two cups of tea each before deciding to leave, and Lockwood offered to take the taxi home with her.

When they were nearly back to Y/n's house, he spoke up.

“I'll pay, if you like. I'll be paying for this stretch of the journey anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference to me.”

“Oh, Lockwood, I can pay you for my part at least, it's not a big deal to me.”

“Nonsense.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, just as they drove around the corner onto her street. “Or… you could come back to Portland Row with me?” Their flirting had never gone as far as properly inviting the other back to their place (although there had always been the comments of 'why don't we finish this somewhere else?' or 'wanna come home with me and prove it?'), and it took Y/n a moment to realise that he was being serious.

“I mean... if you're sure? I don't want to impose or anything.”

“No, you won't be imposing, darling. George and Lucy will be asleep, I'm sure. I think there's half a bottle of wine that needs finishing off if you wanted to share? No pressure though.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

“So are you two both going to Portland Row then?” the driver called, and Lockwood nodded.

“Yes please.” He turned back to Y/n, worry starting to creep into his expression. “You did agree, right?”

“Yes, Lockwood, I did. I think I need something that's not tea to be honest.”

“You can stay the night, too. If you need to. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Lockwood. How big is it?”

“Darling, I'm scandalised that you would ask me that question. You know that size doesn't mat-” He was cut off by Y/n smacking him in the chest, and he chuckled when she glared at him.

“The bed, Lockwood, how big is the bed? If I wanted to know the size of your dick I'd ask you to strip.” She ignored the weird look that the driver cast them in his rear view mirror and focused on Lockwood's answer instead.

“Steady, darling. We're not back yet.” He yelped when she whacked him again, and caught her wrists and held them so that she couldn't attack him anymore. “It's a double.”

“Well then we can both fit, can't we?”

“Asking me to strip, getting me into bed with you? If I didn't know any better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me,” he smirked, leaning in close.

“Oh, Lockwood. I think we both know I did that a long time ago, don't we.” They were dangerously close to kissing, their lips only a couple of centimetres away from each other while their noses brushed with every jolt in the road, and then the taxi was slowing and pulling up to the curb outside 35 Portland Row.

“Alright you two, out. And use protection please, you're too young to be havin' kids.” Y/n flushed and opened the door, moving around to the boot to take out her kit bag and rapier, and when Lockwood followed a moment later after paying the driver his face was red too.

~~~

“Here,” Lockwood said, handing over a tea mug filled with wine.

“Thanks. You're sure the others won't mind us drinking this?”

“They've had plenty of time to drink it, and I own the house and therefore the kitchen and the contents of the fridge are mine too, so I say it's fair game.” His smile was slightly blinding, but Y/n had learned to see past the glare and look at his eyes instead, finding the pure joy behind the façade he put up for the world to see.

They didn't know each other that well, when everything was considered, but Y/n did call him her friend when describing their relationship, and she did feel that if asked, Lockwood would say the same.

Around thirty minutes later Y/n was nearly doubled over with laughter at some stupid thing that Lockwood had said (the wine had gone straight to her head and she had no recollection of what exactly he had said), clutching her sides as they sat in the cluttered library with the bottle of wine between them.

“You, Anthony Lockwood, are ridiculous!”

“I am! In fact, have I shown you my hat collection?”

“Is that some sort of weird euphemism? Or are you genuinely more deranged than I thought you were?”

“Not a euphemism, love,” he grinned, and Y/n in her wine-addled state thought about how he was starting to look like the deranged young man she'd just accused him of being.

“So... you actually have a hat collection? Why?” Lockwood shrugged.

“It's good for disguises when I need to do a little bit of extra research for a case. I can do accents too!”

“No offence, Lockwood, but I've heard some of your accents, and I'm very surprised that you haven't been hunted down and killed yet.”

“Believe me, people have tried!” Somehow he didn't look concerned about that, still smiling just as widely as before, and Y/n thought he looked rather nice like that.

~~~

When she woke up in the morning, Y/n realised she had never taken the painkillers Lockwood had left on the bedside table for her to use.

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the packet and the glass of water and swallowing the pills the best she could in an attempt to stave off the headache that had formed. After finishing off the wine, Lockwood had managed to find some more alcohol hidden away in a cupboard in the library ("It's my personal stash, so don't worry about feeling guilty about drinking this") and they had stayed up until it was nearly sunrise talking about everything and nothing. She was regretting not drinking the water before sleeping, and when she flopped back onto the bed and under the covers she realised that there was someone else in the bed with her.

Lockwood looked peaceful asleep.

While she didn't mind waking up next to him in the morning (the view was actually rather nice), not being able to remember what had happened the night before was a little disturbing, especially since she was in her underwear and, as far as she could tell, Lockwood wasn't wearing any clothes.

The bedsheets had been partially kicked off in the night, most likely because the heating was apparently on full from the very warm temperature of the room, and the duvet had bunched up around Lockwood's waist. She didn't want to wake him by trying to find out if anything had happened last night, since he probably never slept with the sheer size of the shadows under his eyes, so instead she carefully got out of bed and picked up her clothes.

Finding all of her things was difficult, since they'd been flung all around the room in what she hoped was drunkenness and not desperation, but after nearly ten minutes she was dressed and reaching for the door handle. She didn't make it that far though, because before she could leave the sounds of somebody waking up started coming from the bed, and Lockwood was asking her where she was going.

“Oh, I just... I just figured you wouldn't want me to stick around-”

“Why would you think that?” He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up, and she had to force her gaze away from where the sheets were dangerously close to revealing whether or not they had slept together.

“I don't know.” There was silence for a minute or so while Lockwood tried to wake up enough to work out what was going on, and Y/n stood by the door feeling very awkward. “Did we... did anything happen? Last night?”

“Don't think so. I feel like I would remember that, darling,” he winked, and she felt her face heat up.

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“You don't seem convinced.”

“No, I am,” she said, very unconvincingly. There was another silence while she hesitated. “Are you naked?” she blurted out, immediately covering her face with her hands to block out Lockwood's shocked reaction. His laughter didn't help, only serving to make her feel more embarrassed than she already was, and she stayed safely behind her hands while she waited for it all to be over.

“No, darling, I'm not naked. But if you wanted me to be then I'm sure we could figure something out.” She could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't ever let her live this moment down.

“I'm good, thanks.” She didn't really mean it, but it was nice to have a friend like Lockwood, and she figured that having sex with him probably wouldn't help to keep that friendship at all.

“Alright. Well if you don't want to see me in my pants then keep your hands there, I'm getting out of bed.” For the most part she obeyed, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't peek through her fingers briefly while he was getting dressed.

~~~

Luckily the other members of Lockwood and Co were not at home when Y/n left that morning, having said no to Lockwood's offer of breakfast (she would pick up something from Arif's, even if it was out of her way a little), and within half an hour she was back in her own house with a very large cup of tea and a plate of food in her favourite armchair in the living room.

When one of her housemates asked her where she had been all night, a suggestive tone to her question, Y/n simply shrugged, and replied “What's it to you?”

~~~

One week later she was running for her life.

It wasn't that this sort of thing didn't happen often, since her job required a lot of running a lot of the time, but normally she wasn't this exhausted from it. She wasn't even working on a case, either. Y/n had just been walking home from her actual case for that night when she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn in her fatigued state and had come face to face with a bunch of Type Twos.

At least she had her rapier and a few flares and salt bombs left, and her boots were solid enough that despite how much running she had already done that night, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet when normally her soles would be protesting in pain.

“Fuck's sake,” she grumbled, heading for the nearest iron fence she could find. Unfortunately she still had to cross a road that was surprisingly busy at this time of night (or morning? she wasn't sure where the line between the two was drawn) and then vault over the fence into the park, which was probably also infested with Visitors. Going against every action movie she had ever seen she looked back (which was precisely what she shouted at the characters for), then immediately stumbled since she couldn't see where she was going. Her brief pause in her flight allowed the Visitors to catch up a little, and within a few seconds she was seeing her life flash before her eyes and throwing up her rapier in a last ditch attempt to not die.

Then something else was flashing before her eyes, and the ghosts were being driven off.

Y/n realised with a start that the flash had been Lockwood and his stupid grin, dressed in his stupid long coat that was stupidly attractive on him, waving his rapier around in stupidly perfect motions.

“Did you miss me, darling?” She didn't even have time to respond, already ducking to not be hit by the bicycle a Poltergeist had sent flying their way, and Lockwood pushed her to the ground to dodge the railing that followed. They landed with a thump, and Y/n winced when her back hit the concrete of the pavement and then again a very brief moment later when Lockwood landed on her.

“I did, Lockwood. I really did miss you.” She hoped that he could see how sincere she was, and he looked as though he was about to say something. Unfortunately he was cut off when a badly-aimed salt bomb exploded right above their heads, and a small “Sorry!” was called out from somewhere nearby.

“Not to worry, George!” Lockwood yelled back as he got off the floor. He offered out a hand and Y/n let him pull her up, holding her breath when he pulled with more force than was needed and she fell into his chest. “Woah,” he said, voice quiet. “You alright?” His free hand had come up to steady her by the arm, and now he was gently stroking up and down. She wondered if he knew he was doing it.

“Yeah. Can we maybe run away from the death bikes?”

“I think that would be a good idea. You going home?” Y/n shook her head.

“One of my housemates has their partner over, and I'd really rather not be there. I was gonna put up with it but if you're offering your bed again I won't say no,” she teased. Lockwood's face went pink, but not from the cold or the running.

“I'm always offering my bed, darling, you should know that by now.” His smile was as blinding as the flash he had appeared in, and then he was tugging her hand and leading her away from the ghosts (which wouldn't be able to follow after a while, since she'd already run quite far from their Sources), and instead heading for 35 Portland Row.

When they made it inside (Lucy was already in bed, but Lockwood and George had been coming back from a case like Y/n), George bade the two of them goodnight, then tiredly climbed the stairs, leaving Lockwood and Y/n in the front hall. It was dimly lit, only the lamp on the hall cupboard providing any reprise from the darkness, and the yellow glow of it made Lockwood look ethereal.

He had dust and dirt all over him, staining his usually perfect white shirt and tie, and his hair was a mess from the slight wind outside, but he still wore his confidence and his charm like a second skin, and he had never looked more like Anthony Lockwood in all the time Y/n had known him.

“What were you even doing out there?” he asked.

“I was coming back from a job, took a wrong turn somewhere, and came face to face with those fuckers. I'm just really glad that you were there in time because I probably would've ended up in hospital otherwise. Or a furnace.”

“I'm glad I was there too,” Lockwood said, stepping forward. He made to move his hand, as though he might reach out and touch hers, but then his fist was clenching at his side again, fingers flexing every few seconds. “I thought you would be alright, really. Then I saw you trip - why the hell did you look back? You always get annoyed when they do that in movies. I was scared, Y/n, that you might not get back up again.” She could tell that he meant it too, from the way he was looking at her. It was almost too much, his gaze, since it was heavy with so much emotion that they hadn't even properly addressed between them, and that was probably why he kissed her.

She both had and hadn't been expecting it.

It made sense when she thought about it, because beneath all the teasing and flirting there was attraction and a real desire, and she had always figured that being with someone was easier if you knew and trusted them. But she had never thought that either of them would act on it, since both of them seemed happy to let the friendship cover up the truth because at least that meant they weren't without the other. Bringing the truth to light could ruin that, and then they might not see each other at all.

Now, though, she wondered why they hadn't kissed before.

It had been brief, a few seconds at most, but it was enough to make her realise that they had been incredibly stupid in not doing it earlier. She had had such a long night - they both had - and when he pressed his lips to hers for the second time she knew that despite the fatigue and near death experiences involving bicycles, they would be alright. Her hands had moved without her fully knowing, and when they pulled away after the second kiss she realised that they were in his hair and clutching his coat that he hadn't taken off yet. His were nestled around her waist, holding her close to him while he searched her eyes for any sign to stop.

The third kiss was the longest yet, and it took them a long time to move from the front hall to his bedroom.

~~~

Y/n had always been a fan of anything that shone, and had been called a magpie by nearly everyone that knew her.

It didn't matter if it was expensive or not, if it was shiny, then she would have it. Growing up she hadn't been used to expense, and finding trinkets on the street was her speciality, but every now and then someone would buy her something a little less on the cheap side, and she would be overjoyed.

Then of course there were the things she bought herself.

The Fittes Ball that she was on her way to had invited agents of all kinds (a rarity for solo agents who usually went forgotten), and her outfit was one of the most expensive things that she had bought yet (other than her shared house). It was worth it, though, for the look on Lockwood's face when he first saw her.

“You look incredible, Y/n/n!” Lucy gushed, immediately wrapping her new friend in a hug. George and Holly agreed, and while their fussing was nice it was Lockwood's opinion she really wanted. They hadn't spoken after the night they spent together two weeks ago, and now he had an unreadable expression on his face while he looked at her. It was ridiculous, really, how nervous she was to know what he was thinking, since she had never usually cared about what any man thought of her.

“Thank you, I love your dress, Luce! And George, are you actually in a suit? No, no, no, you look very nice! Holly, you look incredible as always,” she said, returning the compliments her friends had given her. Her gaze kept darting back to Lockwood though, and after the others had moved away to talk to someone else, he cleared his throat.

“Y/n.”

“Lockwood.” He took a step towards her.

“You know I told you you could call me Anthony.” He had, not long after he'd taken her to his bed.

“Oh, right. I didn't know if that was just... for then.” She was struggling to look at him now, so she missed the way his expression softened.

“It's for whenever, darling.”

“Okay,” she said, and the small smile he gave her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

“You look stunning, darling. Truly.”

“So do you, Anthony,” she replied, and this time she took a step forward to close the distance. A frown came onto her face, and when he asked her why she paused for a moment before answering. “What are we? Because we haven't spoken since... since that night, and now we're acting like we did before and I'm just quite confused.”

Instead of responding with words, he dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to her a second later. She tried not to focus too much on his hands (the memories of two weeks ago were coming back to the front of her mind now) and took it with confusion, starting to unfold it.

“Oh, I'll be back in a minute, George is calling me over.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles and was off, moving in what she assumed was the direction of George. She finally unfolded the paper and was surprised to see that it was mostly blank, just one question and two little points below it. A pen had been folded into it, and she bit back a smile when she'd read the words.

Would you go on a date with me? Please circle one answer

yes

He was ridiculous, she had decided, but then again she couldn't deny how ridiculously cute it was that he'd written out this mini questionnaire and put it in his pocket, despite not knowing whether she would actually be here or not to take it from him. Why he'd left immediately she didn't know, but maybe he was just too nervous to find out her reaction right away. She clicked the pen and circled 'yes' the best she could with no hard surface to lean on, and winced when the paper punctured. He knew where to find her, but she wrote her address anyway and the house phone number, and refolded the paper. Looking around she couldn't immediately see him, but then she caught a flash of a smile that could only have belonged to one Mr Anthony Lockwood, and she made for where he stood. He blushed slightly when he caught sight of her, then his cheeks burned brighter when she tucked the piece of paper and the pen in the pocket just inside his jacket (standing much closer to him than she needed to), and walked away without a word.

~~~

Two hours later they had snuck into the Fittes building's public library, giggling about something stupid one of the stuck-up snobs who was far too old to still be alive had said while they sipped the fancy champagne that was being served.

“Do you think they get many kids in here? Like, actual kids who would need entertaining?” she asked, making Anthony look round from where he'd been perusing the shelves.

“I doubt it. Why?”

“They've got origami. Look,” she pointed, putting her champagne flute down on a sideboard and picking up a sheet. “I used to be able to make loads of things, but I reckon if I tried making a rabbit or something now it'd look like someone folded a bit of paper a bunch of times and then sat on it.”

“I used to make those snowflakes where you fold it into quarters and cut bits out. Got quite good in the end; I could make chains of them eventually.”

“Of course you're good at making paper snowflakes,” she muttered, no hint of malice behind it. “You're good at everything, I swear.”

“Oh, that's not true.”

“Really? Name one thing that you can't do.” He paused, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “See? You can't do it!”

“Well, I don't think that was very fair, actually, because you didn't give me long enough to actually think about it!” She moved to sit down, picking out various colours of paper squares before settling on one she liked. Anthony sat down next to her, his thigh close enough to hers that she could feel his body heat through his suit. He chose his own square of paper, immediately starting to fold it in different ways.

“What are you gonna make?” she asked him, not looking up from where she was attempting to make an origami butterfly.

“That's a secret.”

“Alright then,” she snorted, “be mysterious. Is that because you're bad at origami and you're trying to hide it by making me guess?”

“Sure, that's what's happening.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they worked, and when Y/n crossed her legs she made contact with Anthony's knee and drew in a breath. She refocused and looked at the paper in her hands, frowning when she realised that she had no idea how to make a butterfly out of it anymore, and sat back with a huff.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just bored, I suppose. What are you making?” He had folded his piece of paper into a thin strip, and now he was pulling the ends together, somehow making them link.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her right hand. She didn't answer for a moment, too busy watching the way his fingers moved. “Y/n?”

“Oh, right.” She let him take her left hand in his, holding her breath for the millionth time around him both at the tenderness of it all and at the way his hands were so cold compared to her warm ones. He lifted the origami up and slid it onto her fourth finger, tightening it by pushing the ends together further.

“You can take it off, if you want.”

She wasn't sure she was breathing. “Are you proposing?”

“What? No, if I was proposing you'd know about it, darling. I just… I don’t know.” He looked nervous, and although he hadn’t let go of her hand, she could see that he was fidgeting.

“I love it, Anthony. Thank you.” He smiled then, small and as under as the way he was holding her hand, and she couldn’t help but ask what she’d been wondering for the last two hours.

“Did you read my response?” Somehow he softened even more, and his grip tightened ever so slightly before he nodded.

“Yes, I did.” Had he moved closer? She thought the distance between them was no longer as frustratingly large as it had been, but he was still too far away.

“Well?”

“Are you free on Saturday? There’s a great place for lunch I’ve been dying to show you for a while now.” He was definitely closer, and she could make out the small scar on his lip in perfect detail.

“Midday work for you?”

“Absolutely.” He was still holding her hand when he kissed her gently, like he thought she might leave at any moment, and when he pulled back after a couple of seconds she dragged him right back to her lips, shifting somehow even closer to him on the seat. The gift he had made that now sat on her finger felt as heavy as a gold one, filled with the promise of what could be and happy endings, and she found herself thinking that if the two of them did ever marry, she would be happy to do so with a paper ring.

They were sat there kissing for a while, not stopping until someone shouted outside the door in drunken laughter, making Anthony and Y/n jump back in surprise. Then they were laughing too, like they were teenagers sneaking off (which, she supposed, they almost were, if you ignored the fact they were legally adults now), and he pressed one last quick kiss to her mouth before he stood up. “We should head out. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.” Y/n stood up too, still holding his hand, and moved to straighten his tie. She had pulled on it when they were kissing, and now it was all crooked around his neck.

“I think they probably know that we’re together, though. I doubt that they’re too worried about us.” She finished fiddling with his tie and draped her arms around his neck, and flushed when he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. They stayed that way for a while, just trading small kisses and swaying gently back and forth.

“I’m glad,” Anthony said suddenly, breaking the silence. “That we… you know.”

“Nearly died and then slept together?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I just - I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, Anthony.” Normally accidents like having sex with her friends was something she hated, but given it was Anthony Lockwood that it had happened with, she was happy to make an exception.

~~~

That night, while Anthony finally managed to sleep next to her, Y/n stayed awake. The glow of the ghost lamp outside had woken her a few minutes ago while she had been surfacing, and now she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her dress hung on the back of his desk chair, and various parts of his suit were slung around the room in piles from where they had thrown them earlier in their haste to be as close as possible to each other.

The ring now sat on Anthony’s bedside table, and although it wasn’t light enough in the room for her to make out its shape, she still knew exactly where it was. Before the two of them got too caught up in each other she had slipped it off, saying that she didn’t want it damaged (as it likely would have been), and when she placed it to the side her eyes had caught on the photo in the frame.

“Is that us?” she had asked, grabbing the frame with both hands.

“Oh… yes. Sorry, it was just a really nice photo and we don’t get to see each other that much, and-”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, warmth flooding her face at her next words. “I’ve got cut-outs from papers that wrote about you framed, so this is perfectly okay.”

She flushed again just thinking about it, and how softly he had smiled at her, and then how softly he had kissed her afterwards. She had been dreaming about him, about both of them, and what would have happened if they had stayed in the library at Fittes for a little longer (a lot of hushed moans and whispered words, and his hair completely dishevelled).

He was the one that she wanted, she was sure of it. There had been others, but none of them had featured in her thoughts about the future like Anthony Lockwood did.

~~~

Months later, when the seasons had gone from wonderfully warm and sunny (or as sunny as England could get) to cold and biting air, Anthony and Y/n were on a case together.

She had officially become a member of the agency not too long after they started dating, and while Lucy and George had originally been worried about the logistics of living space, they quickly realised that their new hire would be sharing a bed with their boss. Y/n had settled in quickly, getting used to how her friends lived within a few weeks, and the company had settled into a nice rhythm.

“A hotel? That’s a pretty big location, shouldn’t we have Lucy and George with us?” she asked as the taxi pulled up to their destination.

“It seems to be contained to one area, from reports, and since they had a couple of actual children give statements I’m going to trust them. Just the outdoor space around the back, apparently someone - a worker, it says here - died while manning a barbecue near the large pool.”

“How do you die manning a barbecue?”

“He fell face-first into the coals, this says,” Anthony replied, waving the paper report around. They clambered out the taxi, thanking and paying the driver, and once the kit had been collected out the boot and the driver was heading back down the road, they were alone.

“Well that’s an awful way to go. Type One? Or manifesting as something stronger?”

“Everything points to Type Two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.”

~~~

He was right, as he so often was, but unfortunately the way in which they handled the Type Two ghost of the Barbecue Man meant they ended up jumping in a pool.

The Source had apparently been one of the tiles on the ledge, where the Barbecue Man had tripped after falling face first into the coals and cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A delightful scene, Y/n was sure, but they hadn’t figured out what the Source was until much later. While she had been scouring the barbecue for any sign of a trigger for the Visitor, Anthony had been drawing it closer to the pool. He seemed to be having a wonderful time taunting the poor dead man, and she couldn’t help but curse him out a little under her breath. “There’s nothing here!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Anthony, I’m pretty sure!” She was just about to tell him off for questioning her when he stepped back on his right foot and made the Visitor shriek an ungodly noise. “Wait! Draw it away from where you currently are!” She wasn’t sure if he’d actually been paying attention to her words since he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her, but a moment later he started moving away, the ghost following him, and she was able to dive for the tile. The second her hands came into contact with it she felt the pain and torment that Barbecue Man had been in in the brief minutes before his death, and at the same time that she managed to dislodge the tile (it had been knocked lose, most likely from his head after he hit it) and wrap it in a silver net, Anthony jumped in the pool. When he surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead and coat and suit completely soaked, he shouted at her to jump in too, leaving the Source on dry land. She just stared at him, but then a rush of cold air hit her and she didn’t think twice. Anthony was waving his arms around, making the water move about enough to fend off the second ghost that had appeared.

Unfortunately that meant that when Y/n attempted to come up for air, she got a face-full of water.

“Anthony!”

“Whoops. Sorry, darling. Here,” he said, offering out his hand. She took it gladly, still spluttering slightly, and they hauled themselves to the opposite side of the swimming pool. The water was freezing, but it was better than being ghost-touched, and besides, Anthony hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

~~~

Her hands were turning a little blue from the temperature of the pool.

It reminded her of when they had been redecorating one of the rooms in Portland Row about two months ago. George had complained that the room was lacking something, and all inhabitants (and Kipps, although Anthony didn’t pay him much attention) agreed that they needed to update it. They had painted it blue, not too dissimilar to the colour of Y/n’s fingers in the present day, and while it had been a wonderful day it had also been the day of her and Anthony’s first fight.

She couldn’t even remember what it had been about now, something stupid and fuelled by external factors such as job stress and fatigue, but Y/n had slept in Lucy’s bed that night.

It had been a while before either girl went to sleep, instead spending the hours attempting to stop Y/n’s crying and watching the old tapes of movies and television shows from before the Problem that Lucy had stashed away on her bookcase. When the morning had come, Lucy had offered to go downstairs and sort out breakfast for them both, so that Y/n wouldn’t have to run into Lockwood, but Y/n had shaken her head, saying that the two of them needed to figure something out.

The moment she had set foot in the kitchen, seeing the back of Anthony’s white dress shirt while he stood at the counter making teas (he had made one for her too, in her favourite mug), she had started tearing up again. He’d heard her sniffling and whipped his head around to see her hovering just inside the doorway, and immediately he had crumbled and rushed over to her, wrapping her in his arms and mumbling “I’m sorry” into her hair.

Now, back from their case with Barbecue Man, they were sat in the library, Anthony pushing a cup of freshly made tea into her hands in an attempt to get them back to their normal colour. “Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to hers and picking up his magazine.

“Yeah, a bit. I can actually feel things again now, so that’s good.”

“Good. Well, I’ll keep you under surveillance for a while, just until I know you’re better.” She snorted, lifting the mug to her mouth.

“Thanks, Doc. Much appreciated.” His responding smile was enough to warm her up entirely.

~~~

A few hours later she woke up feeling disorientated, most likely because she never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Anthony was still in his chair on her left, but he had fallen asleep too, magazine splayed across his chest. Y/n stretched, yawned, and checked her watch, then started at the time. It was nearly half six in the morning, and they had come back from their case at around midnight. She wasn’t sure how long Anthony had stayed awake watching over her, but she knew that the moment he did finally regain consciousness she would be sending him straight up to bed for another few hours of sleep.

She heard somebody moving around in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding George in an oversized t-shirt and no trousers putting the kettle on to boil. “Morning,” she said, shuffling further into the room and stuffing some bread into the toaster.

“Ah, morning. Lockwood still asleep?”

“Yep. He’s in the library. Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, not really. I woke up at about four and was shockingly hungry, and when I came down he was sat reading his magazine. I was just wondering how long it would be before he was up again.” It made sense for her boyfriend to have stayed awake until he literally passed out from exhaustion, given how little Anthony normally slept anyway, and she frowned when she heard the stairs creak. A few moments later Anthony Lockwood himself appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling like there wasn’t a thing wrong with him only getting about two and a half hours of sleep. “I need the toilet,” George suddenly said. “If you could move out the doorway, Lockwood, that would be great. Thanks. The kettle should be boiled soon, if you two wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all, George,” Anthony replied, already taking mugs out of the cupboard. “Who’s toast is this? I think it’s burning.”

“Oh, shit, that’s mine! Fuck that’s hot!”

“Not hotter than me though, right?”

“Shut up, Anthony. My fingers are burning.” He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring for the piece of blackened toast that sat on her plate on the counter, and pressed a gentle kiss to each fingertip. She had flashbacks to the last time her hands had been near his mouth in a far less family-friendly setting, and tried to stop her knees from giving out.

“Better?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.” If anything she was worse, since now her whole body was on fire at how sweet that one gesture was. He hadn’t even thought about it, since there was less than a second between her saying her hand hurt and him kissing the first fingertip, and that had her knees weakening all over again. She took a step towards him, threading her burning fingers with his and placing the other one on his chest to grab at his collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’d had a long night, she was sure of it, and the more-prominent-than-usual bags under his eyes were giving her a solid argument. The kiss was short and sweet, and when she pulled back he followed her for a moment before realising that it was over. He pouted, his eyes practically begging for her to kiss him again, and she let out a small laugh before obliging. That kiss was sweet too, but lasted a little longer, and the third one would have gone on for longer still had George not come back from the toilet and pretended to gag.

~~~

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about just… leaving for a bit? Not completely, I don’t think I could stay away from London forever, but just running off on holiday for a while. Getting a break from the ghost hunting and constant threat of death.”

“That’s… really? You want to ask that now? Darling, my mind is not in the right place for an actual conversation right now.” His hand trailed over her bare side and his eyes were looking at everything but her face, proving that he really wasn’t in the right mental place for a conversation like this, but she tried again anyway.

“Okay, but do you?” He sighed, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet hers.

“I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before.” He paused, shifting his weight to get comfortable. His legs knocked against hers and his hand hadn’t stopped tracing the skin of her body, and he had never taken off the ring he always wore. It had been a pleasant chill against her earlier when she thought she was going to combust from his touch. “I think because of the company I wouldn’t take a break. And I’d have a lot of guilt about leaving when there are people who might be in danger and I could have helped them.”

“But if you could drive away, would you? None of the guilt, or people getting hurt. Just… going off on your own for a bit.”

“I don’t know about alone. I think I would want you with me, darling.” He punctuated his statement by lowering his voice and pulling her closer by her hips, flush against his body, and although she was tired she couldn’t help but feel warm again.

“I’d be happy to drive away with you, Ant. Anywhere you go, I’m going too.”

“You mean it?” he breathed, eyes looking almost golden in the glow of his bedside lamp. He looked desperate for her answer, like he needed to know that she would truly always be with him because he couldn’t stand being left alone again.

“Of course I mean it, Ant. I want it all with you; everything. The complications and fights and of course all the good things too. The horrible Mondays where we get clients who don’t realise that what we do is a full-time job and we don’t really get weekends, the times we do get days off, and we can just be… together.” She ran her fingertips over his arms, marvelling at the hidden muscles she felt. Given how skinny and beanpole-like he appeared, the first time she had realised how toned he was she had been pleasantly surprised. It made sense, she supposed, since he was incredibly proficient with a rapier and had been from a young age, and being that good meant he had to at least be somewhat physically fit and capable (he was very physically capable in other ways, too, something else she had learned early on). She didn’t think she would ever get over how much she loved his arms, or his hands, or how they looked when he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up and folded his arms against his chest, and from the look he was giving her right now he apparently knew that she felt that way.

“You alright, darling?” Good lord, had his voice gone even lower? His eyes had gone from being a honey-golden to a dark syrupy brown, and if what she could feel against her lower half was any indication she could tell that his mind was back to being somewhere other than their conversation. She sounded out of breath when she spoke.

“I’m alright. Do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Wrap me in your arms?”

“Absolutely.”

She definitely shouldn’t have this much of an obsession with his arms, but the moment his arms tightened around her torso and her thigh, bringing her on top of him fully while he sat up with her in his lap and kissed her deeply, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

~~~

On their one-year anniversary, Y/n woke up early.

She didn’t want to, but the moon was shining brightly through the bedroom window, and there was a gap in the curtains that let the light through. It was landing on the books that had been stacked up on the bedside table, titles just about visible and all of them ones that she had read before. The moonlight was also resting on Anthony’s face while he slept, and he looked like he had in the taxi on that night when they had first met, ethereal and effortlessly gorgeous (but not quite so tired and weighed down by responsibility), and she found herself falling in love with him all over again.

It was probably all forms of creepy to just lie and watch him breathe while she tried to go back to sleep, but there was something oddly soothing about it: the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful expression on his face. It was rare she got to see him so relaxed, the only other times were when he had a day off and was sat in the library with a cup of tea, Y/n sat nearby, or when they had spent time exploring each others’ bodies, hands roaming over skin and through hair while they made love.

The paper ring that he had made her just over a year ago, not long before they started officially dating, was sat on the bedside table next to the stack of books. He’d made her new ones at random points throughout their time together, but the original one that he’d folded from that piece of paper in the Fittes public library had remained in pride of place in her jewellery dish in their now shared bedroom at 35 Portland Row.

Looking at it now she was absolutely certain that he was the one that she wanted, taking him in marriage with a paper ring, putting their pictures in frames to decorate their home, and he was the one she wanted in all of her daydreams.

Anthony Lockwood was her future, and her future was looking wonderfully bright.

lockwood tag list: @anathemaloren, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss (hopefully you get this notification, ik it's been weird recently), @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining (hopefully this works for you too my lovely), @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @no-morning-glories, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @zoom1374, @light-23, @ahead-fullofdreams

and then I'm tagging @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @maraschinomerry, @uku-lelevillain, and @lewkwoodnco because I've been promising you this for a while and you just didn't know it :D

if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here! I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader

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