#It stops me from seeing them while searching for AO3 links

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 7: Revelations

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

contains: bit of angst, fluff, alcohol, smoking, language, mention of past relationship trauma and cheating, tension..., also idk anything about poker but i tried my best 🙏

description: the truth about your past is finally revealed and you and sevika begin to move forward.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Sevika’s hand drops from her face, revealing eyes that now roam over your figure with a wary gaze.

“Everything ok?”

She looks at you expectantly and while you thought you were prepared for this conversation, there’s no way to predict how it will actually go.

You take a deep breath and decide to rip the band-aid off.

“I need to…tell you something. About what Vi said at dinner that day.”

Sevika’s expression immediately shifts to one of scrutiny as she raises an eyebrow at your bluntness.

“Okay.”

The two of you are only a few feet apart, but it suddenly feels like there are miles of space separating you as Sevika waits for you to continue, arms crossed over her chest. Her curt answer does nothing to quell your nerves but you push on, determined to see this through.

“Part of what she said was true. I was engaged, and it did end very messily, but because my fianceé cheated on me, not the other way around. I’m sure that’s what she told people to keep her reputation intact, but that’s not what happened.”

You watch the woman as you speak, her eyes slightly narrowing while she absorbs the information. Her stoic façade remains intact though, making it impossible to know how she’s taking it. As you’re talking, she continues to stare at you, your stomach twisting in knots as her gaze bores into you, searching for some sign of deception. The truth begins tumbling out and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

“One day a couple weeks before the wedding, I got an email from the planner pretty late, and I thought it was kind of weird, so I opened it.”

“It was,” you clear your throat to keep it from cracking, “a really long letter telling me that her and Gert were in love, and how she had been telling her for months that she was going to break off the engagement with me but she was waiting for the right time. The planner finally had enough and told me everything.”

Scoffing at how brazen the woman was, you continue.

“I emailed her back immediately saying she was lying and just trying to break up a happy home, and then she sent me screenshots and screen recordings of their conversations.”

At this point, your eyes are starting to water and Sevika looks concerned but doesn’t interrupt.

“Like that wasn’t bad enough, she sent me…pictures, of them together, over a year’s worth.”

The anger in your voice is apparent, your volume increasing as emotion starts to get the better of you. You don’t even notice how tight your fists have clenched until you try to take a breath to steady yourself. Sevika does notice though, her eyes drifting down to your shaking hands, before returning to your face.

“Turns out, she was having an affair with that bitch the entire time. They were already sleeping together before we even got engaged, but Gert had the balls to tell me they were old friends and hire her for our wedding.”

You’re suddenly overly aware of Sevika’s eyes on you, knowing that she’s analyzing every word and movement. She’s yet to say anything, the silence feeling like even longer than it actually is. You press on, knowing it’s too late to turn back now.

“I was a mess after that, I couldn’t even think straight, I locked myself in the guest bedroom and didn’t come out for hours. My friends kept calling, asking me if everything was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.”

Wiping a tear away, you look down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“I confronted her with the evidence, and she didn’t even deny it. She told me it was a mistake and that she regretted it, but that was obviously a lie.”

Pulling out your phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and log into the email account you haven’t accessed in years.

“I kept all of the emails to this day, I’m not even sure why. No one besides me has ever seen them but I feel like this is important enough to show you.”

Handing the phone to Sevika, she grabs it gingerly as she begins to scroll, absorbing every word on the screen. As she reads over the long-winded exchanges, her face betrays nothing, hard lines and slight wrinkles unmoving. Her eyes burn into the screen, taking in the words as your entire body tenses up. You’ve never felt this vulnerable around anyone, and the thought of her not believing you causes your chest to ache. Luckily, the photos were in a separate thread but this one had all the initial exchanges, including the texts.

Finally, Sevika raises her gaze to you, the eye contact making your heart pound furiously in your chest. She sets your phone on the desk next to her slowly, the metallic sound reverberating through the silent room. Anxiety gets the better of you and you continue spilling all of your thoughts.

“I wanted to explain why I left to her daughter at least, but Gert obviously wouldn’t let me, and what hurt me the most was to have to leave a girl I basically helped raise. She was a little older than Isha when I came into the picture, and we were glued at the hip from the first time we met. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Her eyes flick between yours, the exact grey of a cloud on the precipice of a storm. You feel as if she’s reading your very soul, everything she needs to know displayed in your desperate face. Taking a deep breath, you look directly at Sevika and let a final sentence fall from your lips.

“I hope you understand that even though my past is complicated, I’m not someone that you or your girls have to keep your distance from.”

Letting out a long sigh, Sevika’s gaze remains firmly planted on you. She knows the look of a heartbroken person well, and she can see the emotion clearly in your eyes. Coupled with the date stamps on those emails, she knows you’re telling the truth. She begins walking over and your anxiety builds until you feel something press into your palm. Looking down, you see that she’s given your phone back but your stomach squirms when she makes no move to distance herself.

You don’t know how to describe the look in Sevika’s eyes but whatever it is causes your stomach to flutter and your spine to tingle. Her hand remains on yours as she speaks, the touch electrifying, causing currents of energy to run through your body.

“You didn’t deserve any of that. If your ex couldn’t see what she had right in front of her, then that’s her loss.”

You open your mouth to speak but words fail you, a shaky breath leaving your chest as you take in what she said. You’ve heard similar statements before, from friends and family, but it felt different coming from Sevika. Everything did.

She continues staring at you intensely, and for a moment, you’re stunned by her focus. She notices your expression and her lips quirk slightly, the most she’s smiled this entire time, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

A heavy thud in the hallway causes both of your heads to snap in the direction of the noise, Sevika taking a step back from you and the bubble of tension now broken.

Powder and Vi walk into view shortly after, sporting matching blushes and nervous smiles.

“Hey guys…”, they say simultaneously.

Sevika shifts to look at the two girls and arches an eyebrow at them, knowing her daughters well.

“How much of that did you two hear?”

Both of them remain silent, shuffling awkwardly and refusing to look at Sevika, or you. The woman next to you sighs and shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest as she waits for an answer, the two girls giving up once Sevika clears her throat. Powder speaks up first, shifting her weight and turning to look at the ground.

“A lot…”

Sevika is scowling now, irritated that they were both eavesdropping on her conversation and ruined the moment you two were having. Anger laced in her voice, she starts scolding them.

“What have I told you about listening in on my private conversations? We’ve talked about boundaries plenty of times before!”

Vi is now looking up at Sevika nervously and responds with a pleading tone.

“I promise it wasn’t on purpose! We were coming back and heard you guys talking and I was gonna walk in like normal but then Powder put her hand over my mouth and pulled me toward the wall cause she wanted to hear what you guys were saying, and then—”

“That’s not true! I grabbed you because I wanted them to keep talking, and good thing I did because I was right, Teach isn’t a cheater!”

Powder rolls her eyes at her sister while you’re standing there dumbfounded and Sevika is fuming. She looks like she’s about to explode, clearly not in the mood for excuses when your voice cuts through the tension, saving the two girls from receiving her wrath.

“It’s alright!” You rush out, holding your hands out as a sign of peace. Sevika’s gaze flicks over to you briefly, a look of confusion flashing on her face, before staring at her daughters again, clearly upset.

“I was hoping to also tell you girls eventually,” with a lot less details, you think, “but you know now, so…it is what it is, I guess.”

A nervous smile spreads across your face as you look between the three of them, hoping this would calm things down between Sevika and the girls.

Sevika’s eyes sharpen at your words but she takes a deep breath, reigning in her temper. It looks like she’s going to say something but decides to remain silent instead, her attention now focused solely on you. Powder and Vi look properly reprimanded, not wanting to cause any more trouble. They exchange a look between each other before Vi speaks up again, her guilt getting the best of her.

“So…Gert was the one that cheated on you.”

Your mouth twists at that, thinking of how to respond. You had planned a very watered down version of the story in case you ever told the girls, exactly because of this. Vi being friends with Gert’s daughter complicated things tenfold, and even though you hated the woman, you would never speak about her to Vi the way you did to Sevika. With the cat now out of the bag, you have no other option but to tell the truth.

“Yeah. I didn’t talk to her friends or family after everything happened, so she must’ve told them a version that didn’t paint her as the bad guy.”

Vi’s head drops to look at her shoes, a shaky exhale leaving her body. She takes a moment to collect herself before looking back up at you, eyes faintly glistening with unshed tears.

“I’m…so sorry. Powder was telling me since the beginning that I had it wrong but I didn’t wanna believe that. I accused you of something you didn’t do and almost ruined your relationship with Sev, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

At the mention of the word relationship, you look around embarrassingly, fidgeting with your clothes while Sevika begins to cough, turning away as she gets it under control. You walk up to Vi and awkwardly place your hand on her shoulder, forcing a smile as you pat it.

“I get it, you were just protecting your family, I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. No hard feelings, I promise.”

The girl nods and shoots you an appreciative half smile before you step away and slide your hands into your back pockets. Powder speaks up a moment later, feeling out the now calm vibe of the room.

“So…does this mean you’re allowed to start coming over for dinner again?”

Glancing at Sevika in your peripheral, your mouth opens before your brain can catch up, heat creeping towards your face.

“I mean, um, that would be more your mom’s decision, so—“

“That’s fine with me.”

Three pairs of eyes dart over to the woman next to you, one with surprise that she answered so quickly, and two with a knowing look at why she did. Sevika’s gaze bounces between all of you, clearing her throat before trying to explain.

“The girls really missed you and they’ve been saving movies to watch in case you came over, so, it only makes sense.”

A bashful smile now adorns your face as you slowly nod, a warmth spreading throughout your chest. You had missed Sevika, of course, but you longed for the days when you felt like another member of her tight knit family. Looking at the woman with a sparkle in your eye, you respond happily.

“Great, that sounds…great.”

Now that the conversation has died down, a bit of an awkward air settles among the room as all of you think about how to segway to another topic. Sevika breaks the silence first, deciding she needs to have a moment to herself after such a heavy conversation.

“So, we should probably head home, Isha’s definitely tried giving Caitlyn another makeover by now and it’s only a matter of time before she wears her down.”

You chuckle at that, imagining the scenario and remembering when Isha did something similar to you.

“Yeah, of course. See you guys tomorrow then?”

Sevika weakly nods as Powder walks over and hugs you tightly, glad that everyone now knows what she felt all along.

“Come over soon, okay?”

Pulling back from the hug, you look at Powder and smile.

“You got it, kid.”

The teenager squeals as she moves towards the door where Sevika and Vi are now standing. You look at both of them before landing on Sevika who has a ghost of a smile on her face as she tells you “Have a good night, miss.”

Smiling, you return the gesture before she walks out, Powder and Vi following, the older of the two smiling at you and sheepishly waving before disappearing.

Now alone, you let out a deep sigh, your body suddenly feeling tired. The conversation went better than you expected, minus the girls overhearing, but all of the anxiety surrounding the situation left you exhausted. You slowly gather your things, thinking about where things are headed from here. Sevika was okay with you coming around them again, and as much as you wished you could be satisfied with that, you wanted…more.

Groaning, you start rubbing your temples, feeling a headache come on. Telling yourself you only wanted to be friends worked when you were unsure if she would believe you about the Gert situation, but now that she had, it was only going to get harder and harder to fool yourself. You decide to head home and see if your roommates are there for you to bounce your thoughts off of, needing to know if you are as crazy as you feel.

Your drive home is short and blissfully quiet, with your thoughts beginning to run amok. You think about what Sevika told you, about your ex not deserving you, and your mind desperately tries to not get ahead of itself. You can’t go a second without thinking about the soft expression on her face, your feelings threatening to overwhelm you.

Unfortunately, the house seems to be empty when you arrive. Tossing your keys into the bowl, you kick off your shoes and walk into the living room, collapsing face first into a couch cushion. You roll onto your back, clutching a pillow as you replay the entire afternoon in your head. Would something have happened if the girls hadn’t walked in? Sevika was never one to do something accidental, she was a very deliberate woman, and the way she was touching your hand…

Your thoughts are interrupted by soft footsteps approaching the living room. You sit up slightly to see your roommate walking in with headphones on and looking down at her phone. After yelling her name a couple of times, that fails to get her attention so you decide to throw a pillow at her.

“Holy shit!”

She screams as she yanks her headphones off and clutches her chest, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t see you under all that, what the fuck!”

You’re laughing now, hands up to show her you meant no harm.

“I’m sorry! I was calling you but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as she plops down next to you, leaning her head back on the couch and clutching her forehead.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“My bad.”

Leaning your head on her shoulder, you squeeze her thigh apologetically. After a minute, you sit back up and turn your body towards her.

“So…I did what you said and showed Sevika the texts.”

Her eyes widen as she puts her phone down, giving you her undivided attention.

“Oh shit, how did that go?”

“Really well, actually. She didn’t say anything when I was explaining, even when I showed her the emails, but at the end, she told me that I didn’t deserve what happened and that if Gert couldn’t see what she had, then it was her loss.”

Your friend gasps as she clutches your hand.

“Wait, that’s really good!”

You look down at your lap bashfully, absorbing her excitement.

“And then she kind of held my hand when she gave my phone back.”

That gets a very excited scream from your friend.

“Girl, this is great news, she wants you!”

Scratching at your neck, you continue explaining what happened after that.

“The only thing is, her daughters overheard our conversation.”

That instantly calms her down and she’s now looking at you with a confused expression.

“What?! How?”

“They had left to go look at something and when they got back, Powder kept Vi in the hallway so we could keep talking, then something must’ve fallen cause there was a loud noise and they walked in all embarrassed.”

At this point your friend’s eyes are wide with surprise, not expecting your conversation to end like that. She sits in silence for a second, mulling over everything you said before raising a questioning brow at you.

“So, they know everything?”

“Most of it,” You shrug, now biting your lip.

“More than I would’ve liked them to find out, for sure.”

“Well, maybe it's a good thing, right? They’re old enough to understand things like that.”

Your friend tries her best to reassure you and you’re grateful for it, knowing how you can sometimes spiral.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you continue talking for well over an hour, your friend eventually grabbing two glasses of wine to relax among all the news. You vent about how nervous you were showing Sevika the emails and both of you rehash old relationship worries. By the end of the conversation, you feel a bit more confident about the situation.

“So you’re definitely in the clear to get in with her now.”

Blowing out a puff of air, a smile cracks through your attempt at nonchalance and you attempt to hide it by covering your face.

“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve had a crush, I feel like a teenager again.”

“Isn’t it kind of fun though? Especially with someone that looks like her.”

You push her shoulder at that, both of you laughing.

“I tried for a while to tell myself friendship was enough, but…I like her.”

“Aww, of course you do!”

She wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

“I’m so happy for you, I know this weighed on you a lot. You deserve to be happy and I’m glad it’s finally starting to happen.”

Tucking your face into her shoulder, your eyes begin to get misty. As much as you’ve tried telling yourself that over the last few years, it feels like it’s starting to become reality.

“I really hope so.”

At her house, Sevika is having a similar conversation on the phone with Vander. Standing in the garage, she’s smoking a cigaratte and blowing the smoke towards the cracked garage door as her best friend is giving her his thoughts on the situation.

“It sounds bad to say, but I’m glad Vi was wrong. I really like that girl for you, Sev, I got a good feeling about her.”

Chuckling, she shakes her head as she brushes her hair out of her face. She didn’t tell Vander any details out of respect for you, only that the situation’s been cleared up and you’re back in her good graces.

“God, I thought I was out of the game for good. I’m too grown for shit like this.”

Vander belly laughs at that.

“These things happen when you least expect it, Sev. Take it in stride.”

Putting out her cigarette, she mumbles an agreement and ends the call a few minutes later, deciding she wants some reading time before bed, thoughts of you plaguing her mind the entire way.

That week ends up being extremely busy for you and Sevika, so much so that you haven’t been able to have dinner at her house. That changes Friday afternoon when you get a voice note from her asking if you’d like to come over later for dinner. It takes everything in you not to answer too eagerly, replying with a calm That sounds good :).

Now with that to look forward to, the rest of the day breezes by and eventually it’s time for Powder to get picked up after working on her project. Right on cue, Sevika walks in, and you have to fight to keep your eyes in your head.

Her trusty leather jacket makes a reappearance, over a fitted white henley you’ve never seen, buttons undone just enough to tease a perfectly sculpted clavicle. Paired with a loose fit pair of jeans and black combat boots, she looks the very picture of heartthrob.

Powder drops something on the floor and it’s then that you realize you’ve been staring unabashedly. Clearing your throat, Sevika walks over to you unexpectedly, carrying something in her hand. When you see that it’s a helmet, you swear you almost faint. Of course she has a goddamn motorcycle.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Sevika is wearing a mostly neutral expression, only a hint of a smile playing at her lips, and you’re trying your hardest to match it.

“I know I invited you for dinner tonight, and that’s still on, but me, Vander and Silco were gonna have our poker night afterwards. If you’re interested.”

The moment hangs in the air as she waits for your answer. You’ve never mentioned being into cards or anything like that, but she hopes you’ll accept the offer anyway.

“I’d love to.”

A smile lights up your face, your hands clasped in front of you as you continue. So much for keeping it cool.

“I’m not very good at poker, but that sounds like fun.”

Sevika lets out an internal sigh of relief, even though you hadn’t yet turned down an activity she mentioned, she was still nervous, especially because other people were involved.

“Great. We’re gonna head to the house from here, but you come over whenever you’re ready. And you don’t have to bring anything this time, really.”

You cluck your tongue, looking at her with a mischievous expression.

“I’ll see about that.”

Sevika bites her lip, looking away from you but the action captures all of your attention. When she turns back to you, your staring contest with her mouth ends and you suddenly become interested in something on the wall.

Powder walks over at that very moment, a knowing glint in her eye that you and Sevika both pretend not to notice.

“I’m ready, mom.”

Nodding at her daughter, Sevika moves to step towards you before correcting herself and pretending she was just shuffling her feet.

“Right. So, we will see you in a bit?”

“Yup! I’ll walk with you guys, I’m ready to head out too.”

Truthfully, you could’ve stayed a few more minutes to organize your desk before Monday but the chance to see Sevika drive off on her motorcycle was too enticing to pass up.

You walk towards the door with your bags, shutting off all of the lights and holding it open for Powder and Sevika to walk out, locking it behind you. When the three of you reach the exit to the parking lot, Sevika pushes it open and stands off to the side.

“After you.”

Powder can only shake her head, heading out first before you brush past Sevika, eyes almost fluttering shut at her aroma. Once in the lot, you see that she parked directly next to you and walk up to her bike, admiring the way it shines.

“It’s beautiful.”

You look back at Sevika, who looks very proud.

“Thank you. Finished fixing her up a month ago, but it’s been raining too much to ride until this week.”

She walks over to the back of the motorcycle and pops the seat, grabbing another helmet and placing it on Powder’s head. As she does, her jacket lifts and a sliver of her toned lower stomach is exposed where her shirt folded under itself.

After situating her own helmet, Sevika turns to you to say goodbye when she sees the dazed look on your face. Still staring, you’re playing with the car keys in your hand, the most distracted you’ve ever been.

“You okay?”

That instantly snaps you out of your daze, flames licking at your face.

“Yeah! Just thinking about something I have to do before going over.”

You smile at the woman, hopefully distracting her from the fact that you were just openly ogling her. Again. Behind her, you see Powder covering her mouth, most likely hiding a laugh, and groan to yourself.

“Okay then, drive safe.”

She swings her leg over the seat, Powder getting on behind her as Sevika turns the bike on and revs the engine. Nodding at you once, she pulls the visor of her helmet down and drives off, leaving you behind to collect yourself.

“Shit.”

When you arrive at her house a short while later, you make quick work of getting to the porch, eager to get out of the cold. Ringing the doorbell once, only a few seconds pass before the door opens and Vi is standing before you.

“Oh, hi Vi.”

You smile at the girl before she ushers you inside, offering to take your coat. After handing it to her, she sees the bottle in your hand and asks if you want her to grab it from you.

Laughing lightly, you tell her, “No, that’s okay, I don’t want your mom to think I’m giving you something to drink.”

You quickly add on, “We’ll wait until after she goes to bed,” with a wink.

Vi actually chuckles, and you feel proud. You definitely have to build a rapport with her the way you have with her sisters, but you decide to start right away. She leads you into the kitchen where the table is fully set, and a memory of the last time you were here hits you like a train. Clearing your head, you look around for Sevika before seeing her walking in your direction.

Before she can reach you, you extend your hands, presenting her favorite whiskey.

“You didn’t.”

A smile disguising itself as shyness spreads across your face as you reply.

“Of course I did, I never agreed to come empty handed.”

Shaking her head as she takes it from you, Vander and Silco walk over, shaking your hand as you greet each other.

“Good to see you again— Oh!”

Vander reaches for the bottle that Sevika is cradling, grabbing it and inspecting the label.

“Sev, you didn’t say she had such good taste.”

He smirks at her and you pretend not to notice the way she looks down, avoiding your eyes.

“Easy, babe.”

Silco rubs Vander’s shoulder as he directs him towards the table where the girls are starting to sit down. When they notice you, they greet you with hugs, Isha pulling you to sit next to her. Even Caitlyn openly waves to you, no longer worried about Vi’s glare.

Everyone takes their places and starts serving themselves, conversation flowing easily. You spend the first few minutes a bit anxious that something similar to last time will happen, but eventually, that feeling is replaced by a relaxed one.

When dinner ends, the girls head to Powder’s room and you head to the couch, chatting with Vander and Silco as Sevika cleans up the kitchen. A few minutes later, she walks over holding the bottle you brought and a deck of cards.

“Who’s ready to lose?”

Smirking at her two best friends, her eyes land on you and her gaze softens just enough to be noticeable. You stand and lightly stretch your limbs, trying to expel a bit of nervous energy that returned with Sevika’s presence.

“Take it easy on me, okay, public school teachers don’t make much, I promise.”

Vander cackles like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and the two of you follow Sevika and Silco to the garage where the table’s already set up. Taking your seats, the two husbands sit across from each other, already sizing each other up and trying to psych each other out.

Hearing music suddenly playing, you turn around to see Sevika fiddling with a stereo system, holding a CD case. When she’s done, she strolls over and takes her seat across from you, reaching behind herself to set the case back on the shelf.

“Hope you like Coldplay.”

“You a big fan?”

Two groans come from the men on either side of you, confusing you.

“Please don’t get her started. She’s dragged us with her to see them live six different times. I like them, don’t get me wrong, but six is excessive, they only have so many songs!”

Silco’s explanation makes you giggle while it gets an eye roll from Sevika. Looking towards her, your curiosity begins to grow.

“You like them that much?”

The woman splays her hands across her thighs and shrugs.

“Their music’s gotten me through a lot. I haven’t been able to see them the last few times they were here, but I still listen to them all the time.”

Bobbing your head, you think it’s endearing how much she likes them and decide to indulge her.

“That’s really nice, actually. I’ve never been able to see them live, but I’ve heard great things.”

Her gaze flicks up to you, a hopeful look in it.

“You’re a fan?”

Shaking your head side to side, you tell her, “Not as much as you, but I listen to them often enough.”

A shy smile creeps up her face and she looks down at her hands as she begins shuffling the cards.

“That’s cool.”

Vander and Silco are watching the entire interaction with rapt attention, they knew Sevika had a thing for you, but this was more than they expected. Standing up, Vander grabs the whiskey from behind you and raises it to get everyone’s attention.

“Drink, anyone?”

Sevika and Silco both nod and Vander shifts his gaze to you. Deciding it’s a special occasion, you agree and he heads to the bar next to the fridge to retrieve some glasses. When he returns, he sets one down in front of each of you, pouring a generous amount in the others until he reaches you. He gets to less than half of what’s in the other glasses before Sevika cuts him off.

“Not too much, Van, you trying to kill her?”

Looking at your drink, it’s definitely more than you would’ve poured but you know you can handle yourself.

“Sorry! I forget not everyone drinks like a mechanic.”

Smiling apologetically, Vander caps the bottle and puts it away, sitting back down and looking at Sevika.

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

Sevika looks up at you through her bangs as she deals the cards.

“How much you know about poker?”

Glancing around, you clench your hands, trying to not seem nervous.

“Mm, not much, to be honest. There’s 5 cards per player, right? And the goal is to have the best hand possible.”

The three other people at the table internally chuckle at your naivety. They're going to eat you alive.

Sevika agrees to let you have a couple practice rounds so you can get a feel for the game, and only when you insist on playing for real does she stop holding back.

“If you say so.”

She smirks as she deals again, she almost felt bad for how this was going to go, but this was your choice and she was going to give you what you asked for. You end up with a straight, and though it was better than everyone was expecting, it wasn’t good enough to win. Huffing, you sit up in your chair as you take a swig of your whiskey, the burn in your throat only spurring you on.

“I think I got the hang of it now.”

Laughing under her breath, Sevika thinks the determination on your face is adorable, and the alcohol in her system isn’t helping. Going again, you end up with the same hand as before, more and more chips slowly disappearing from your stack.

The drinks are serving their purpose now, jokes and laughs coming out much easier than before. You find out that Vander and Silco have been together almost ten years, their anniversary coming this summer. They tell you the story of how they met at work, and you coo as they relay the details of how it was mainly Sevika’s doing. She makes a couple comments towards you that could be taken as flirtatious, but you pass them off as effects of the alcohol.

When your foot bumps hers, you shoot her a quick apology, and she accepts it with a small smile. When it happens again a couple of minutes later, you apologize again but she only nods, pinning you to your seat with her gaze. You try to focus on the story Silco is telling, something about a vacation, but your breath catches in your throat when you feel two legs slide on either side of yours, trapping your calf between them.

Quickly glancing at Sevika, she’s no longer looking at you but at Silco, fully engaged in his story. You move to pull away from her, sure it was an accident, when her grip tightens and she hooks one foot behind yours, leaving no room for doubt. She’s definitely flirting with you.

Alarm bells start going off in your head, you never considered what you would actually do in the event that Sevika returned the sentiment. The two men are seemingly unaware of what’s going on under the table and you’d like to keep it that way. You turn your leg to the right, pressing it into Sevika to test out her reaction. You’re rewarded with a sharp inhale that you only notice because your eyes are locked onto her full lips.

The moment unravels when you hear Vander call your name, forcing your gaze to the expectant look on his face.

“Sorry, what was that last part?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever ridden a motorcycle before.”

Sevika suddenly notices the lack of music playing and gets up to change CDs, taking the warmth against your lower half with her.

“Oh, yeah, um, no, no I haven’t.”

Giving him a tight smile, Sevika returns with a cigar between her lips, offering the box around the table while Vander keeps talking.

“Ah, it’s amazing. The three of us used to do an annual bike ride through the country, just us and the open road for weeks. Nothing like it.”

After everyone but you takes one, she walks over to the garage door to crack it open, making sure to turn up the space heater before sitting back down. Sevika clips her cigar and lights it, blowing a perfect ring on the first try. The alcohol is definitely affecting you now because as you watch the smoke leave her mouth, you wish you were in its place.

You decide you need to sober up a bit before your inside thoughts make their way out of your mouth. Standing up with the slightest wobble, the entire table stops what they’re doing and looks at you with varying degrees of amusement.

“I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.”

Walking into the house and heading straight for the bathroom, you shut the door and lock it before turning to the sink and pulling the handle for cold water. Cupping your hands under the faucet, you rub the cool liquid over your face and take a deep breath. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the slight glossiness in your eyes and giggle to yourself. Was this really happening?

After a few minutes of breathing exercises, and actually peeing, you feel a bit more yourself, opening the door before immediately running into something.

“Oh shit, sorry, I was just about to knock.”

You step back in a daze before your eyes focus to see a sheepish Sevika standing in the doorway.

“You’ve been gone for a bit so I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

Her hands are stuffed into her pockets and she’s looking at you with worry etched into the slight crease between her brows. You start to feel unsteady again, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I’m okay, just needed to wake up a little. That whiskey is stronger than it looks.”

A chuckle escapes her parted lips and the piercing underneath them suddenly looks enticing. Stepping forward to place a foot between hers, mirroring her move from earlier, you lean in the slightest bit before watching her eyes drop to your mouth as she replies.

“Yeah, it’s kicked my ass more than once…”

“Mm, I thought you could handle your liquor.”

Both of you continue to lessen the gap, pulled together as if by magnets.

“I can, but sometimes I like to test my limits.”

“Is that so?”

Your chests are almost touching, heavy breaths mixing into the space between you. Right when you’re about to close the distance, a door down the hall creaks open and you hear giggling, footsteps coming closer until they stop right outside the bathroom.

“Oh shit.”

Standing straight up, Sevika is glaring at Vi and Caitlyn as you lean your forehead against the doorframe, sure this is some sort of punishment from a past life.

“Where do you girls think you’re going?”

It’s then that you turn to see the keys dangling from Vi’s hand.

“Uh, we were just gonna go to the store for some snacks. For the movie we’re all watching?”

Both pairs of eyes flicker between you and Sevika, cogs turning as they realize they just walked in on something.

“But we can head back to the room, no worries, we can watch the movie without them.”

They turn back the way they came, mumbling apologies as Sevika hangs her head and groans.

“I just want five minutes without interruptions, that’s it.”

You giggle at her confession, though you wished for the same. Taking it as a sign to head back to the garage, you squeeze past Sevika, fingers brushing hers and you could almost swear you feel them twitch.

Walking back to the table, you feel Sevika’s eyes on your back the entire way and only because you reach Vander and Silco’s line of sight do you not turn around and pull her towards you. She slowly takes her seat in front of you, making a show of it because she knows you’re watching.

“Last round before we call it a night?”

Vander looks around the table to sense the vibe. He and Silco have been waiting for an opening to leave without interrupting whatever was going on with you and Sevika for over half an hour. You smile and nod, thinking it’s probably late for them to still be awake. Sensing that it’s finally time to execute your plan, you calmly call out, “Winner take all?”

You’re met with three confused glances. The girl who’s been losing all night wants to bet everything she has left? It isn’t a lot, they’ll admit but never one to pass up an opportunity to make some money, they all agree.

Sevika deals, a curious gleam in her eye as she watches you. Not seeing any tells, she focuses on her hand and looks around the table, confident with what she has.

“Fuck.”

A groan leaves Vander as he pushes his cards into the middle of the table.

“Fold.”

Crossing his arms and finishing his drink, he sets it onto the table with some force, more annoyed that he lost to his husband than anything. Silco grins, even if he doesn’t win the hand, beating Vander is enough for him. He lays his cards on the table with a flourish, calling out “Full house, baby.”

A huff escapes Sevika as she looks down at her hand.

“Damn. I only have a…” setting down her hand slowly to build suspense, “straight flush.”

Once you suck your teeth and sigh, Sevika grins and starts collecting the chips on the table, pulling the piles towards herself before asking what you have.

“Ugh, I don’t remember what it’s called.”

Setting down the cards one by one, each reveal causes everyone’s jaws to drop a little more as realization settles in.

“A royal flush?”

A wicked smile spreads onto your face as you sit back, absorbing the big reveal. Exhaling dramatically, you lean forward after a moment and start grabbing your winnings, the only noise in the room being the clack of plastic chips and the muted soundtrack of Coldplay.

“I can’t believe you just hustled me.”

Sevika is looking at you with a shocked, yet proud, look on her face and all you do is shrug.

“I can’t believe you just let it happen.”

A low chuckle leaves Vander as he scans his best friend’s face, thinking She may have finally met her match.

As you all stand from the table, he pulls out his wallet, grabbing your winnings and handing them to you before you raise a hand up, declining.

“No need. Seeing the look on all of your faces was payment enough.”

He claps a hand on your shoulder, peering past you before speaking.

“I really do like this one.”

He finishes his sentence with a pointed look towards the woman, emphasizing his comment from their earlier conversation.

“We’re gonna head out, don’t worry about locking up Sev, I still have my key. You two have a good night, now.”

Shaking his head and laughing to himself, Vander walks inside, closely followed by Silco, the two of them discussing their admiration for your style of play. Once you and Sevika are alone, you swing back to face her, much more confident than you were upon arriving earlier.

“Next time, we’re playing for real money. Now that you know how good I am and all that.”

Grinning at the woman in front of you, the look on her face can only be described as awe.

“I don’t enjoy being tricked, you know that?”

Glancing around the room, you purposely avoid eye contact for a few seconds before looking at Sevika.

“I get that, but I think you like a challenge.”

A sharp exhale is the only response you get before you reach out, hand grazing hers with a purpose. You were just full of surprises today.

The door to the house suddenly opens, revealing a tired Isha who's rubbing her eyes and carrying her stuffed monkey towards you both. Trying to blink away the sleep, she looks toward an exasperated Sevika, no clue what she’s just done. When she signs Can I sleep with you? I had a bad dream, the woman can only sigh. Isha’s nightmares could get pretty intense so she instantly feels bad and scoops the girl into her arms.

Are the others asleep?

After nodding, the girl tucks her face into Sevika’s neck, already starting to doze off.

“That’s definitely my cue to leave.”

You step towards the two and gently lay a hand on Isha’s back, feeling the warmth exuding from her small frame. Looking at Sevika, you give her a small smile before telling her you’ll see her later and moving in the direction of the door. She vigorously shakes her head before stepping into your path.

“Let me walk you out, at least.”

Agreeing to that, you make your way inside to the front, slipping your shoes on, then your coat, before facing Sevika. She’s sporting the slightest pout and you almost reach over Isha to kiss it away.

“See you next week, yeah?”

Nodding with a tired sigh, she looks at you before moving to embrace you as best she can. You take what you can get, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around Isha, reaching for the woman's shoulder. After reluctantly letting go, you open the door, Sevika holding it as you walk out and angling her body to shield Isha from the cold.

“Text me when you get home, please,” she calls out as you head down the driveway.

Turning around, you give her a thumbs up, too wired to give her a verbal response. Once you’re in the car, Sevika closes the door but continues to watch from the window while you warm up your car, taking off a couple minutes later with a frazzled wave.

The drive home is silent. You couldn’t even bring yourself to play any music, the replay of the night making plenty of noise in your head. Only realizing how late it is when you arrive and see the lack of any lights inside, you tiptoe through the quiet house, reaching your room and closing the door as gently as possible.

Leaning against the door, you let out the breath you’ve been holding since leaving Sevika’s house. We almost kissed. Twice. You cover your face with your hands as you let out a muffled shriek, giddy and excited for what’s to come for the first time in a very long while.

taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther @bebadoobie @nymanas @dyketoast

[salty-autistic-writer]

Tommy watches Evan at Bobby's funeral. (tw mcd, grief)

Tommy watches Evan.

Everyone is either looking at the casket or at Chief Simpson. But Tommy is watching Evan. And what he sees is slowly breaking his heart.

Evan's body is rigid like a rock in stormy waters. His chin is tilted up, and he's staring straight ahead. But it's clear his eyes don't see anything. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his fingers are intertwined so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

Bobby's been the father I never had.

God. Evan's words echo in Tommy's head. His throat tightens, and he curls a hand into a fist as a combination of sorrow and anger rushes through him. Nothing about this is fair. Captain Nash was a good guy. He deserved more time.

Gerrard is right next to Tommy. Still here. Still hateful. Tommy wonders what he would say if he knew about him and Evan. He certainly wouldn't have reacted like Nash. Wouldn't have smiled and welcomed them at his table to have dinner.

Tommy's chest clenches.

Captain Nash made the 118 feel like a home. A family. And now he's gone. Because he chose to save his family.

And Evan ...

Evan lost so much, but he is so brave. He must be hurting. It must be piling up inside him. Pain. A dam. Still strong. But ready to burst.

Tommy just wants to take Evan home and shield him from any more pain. But he can't, right? He can't. He's not allowed to.

Later, though, when the speeches are over and the first fresh tears are drying on their faces, Howie's hand comes to rest on Tommy's back. "He's going to need you," Howie says, nodding towards Evan, who stands like a statue, staring into the distance, crumpling his cap in his hands while Eddie talks to him. "You're going to be there for him, right?"

"Yes," Tommy says. Because he looks around and suddenly realises that everyone is going home to their family and loved ones. They go to a safe space to fall apart. Tommy's house is empty. Evan's house is empty. Evan can't be alone when the dam bursts. He won't be.

Howie nods at him. "We've been there in the beginning, and now we are there for the end as well, huh?" He says, smiling weakly. Joylessly.

Tommy nods. And now it's time to pick up the pieces.

Evan turns and looks around, searching, until he sees Tommy. He comes over, fingers still fidgeting with the cap. "Are you going home?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah. You want to come with me?" Tommy asks.

Evan nods wordlessly. And Tommy can already see them. The cracks. Behind them waits a flood of tears.

Later, Tommy will do what he wasn't able to do in the lab. He will hold Evan's shaking body, will listen to his shuddering sobs and his wails. Tommy will cry as well. And when the flood stops, he will make sure Evan is warm and safe in his sleep.

He will keep himself from wondering. Will refrain from asking. Will push away the nagging thoughts.

He won't ask if the look Evan gave him in the helicopter meant that there's still a chance for them to be more than friends.

Because this is not about him. This is about mutual loss and shared tears. It's about not facing the abyss of grief alone.

(AO3 Link)

[cannibalmouse]

Would it be a problem if i was purposefully searching for bots to report them?

[takes1]

NEEDDD AN OIKAWA X SHY READER, she’s extremely quiet until they do certain things and Oikawa is definitely dominant top sooo 🤭maybe it’s like their first time doing it and Oikawa does something (cokes her throat idk) to trigger her loudness and Oikawa being Oikawa he’s gonna be trying anything to get her to be more loud while teasing her

oikawa making quiet!reader scream

tbh i found it difficult to write him as a top, i just love me some whiny loser oikawa. but! it was fun exploring something different so <3 hope it's alright! i also totally took the quiet thing and ran with it

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

details. sub!reader / dom!oikawa / established relationship / mute?reader / kissy sex / side sex / safe sex / f!rec oral / oikawa has a praise thing / quiet!reader / use of ASL / petnames / light!choking / big focus on sound+speech in this one / 1.9k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN

He was so pretty between your legs.

A new heat crept up your neck and spread across your face, ear-to-ear. You had to look away, you couldn't handle his intensity- not here, with no clothes, undone and needy under him.

The firm grip on your leg reset you. He draped your thighs over his strong shoulders, exactly where he'd been wanting them for months. Now he just needed you to watch.

"Eyes on me, baby," Oikawa dipped his head back for just a moment to press a kiss against your pretty sex, a perfect grin plastered across his face.

Your muscles twitched around his chiselled features- you couldn't get over just how stunning he was in the dim, warm light of his bedroom.

You blinked away the welling from your eyes, a short whine in your throat at the fluttery feeling his confident tongue gave you.

He touched you, ate you, like he'd been considering exactly how for a while.

His tongue was soft and light as he figured you out- searching for what you could handle, pushing and prodding where you wanted. Soon you were twitching, shaking, and having to be kept still in his grasp.

"M-mn-," Your sounds were small, cute; he smiled against you every time he got to hear it.

Most of what he heard was labored gasps, sighs, and cute little moans he'd imagined many times before.

In truth, you had to stop him early because you couldn't take very much of his mouth-- it was getting you too worked up, too quickly.

He rose, strong chin dripping with clear and some animalistic intensity in his lidded eyes.

But he knew making you squirm would only get him so far.

His sweet kisses, trailed with intention and delicacy all the way up your body made you giggle.

When he cuddled up to your side, he didn't waste any time guiding your body how he wanted. His bottom arm wrapped around you from underneath a pillow, his top arm free to squeeze at the flesh of your hip while he took you in a rough and rushed kiss.

This position was so comfy- you smiled up at him and stretched your arms to look at the two of your bodies, how they'd intertwine, and bit your lip.

"You gonna be okay?"

He looked past your eyes, deep into the swimming thoughts in your head about your first time together. It was like he could watch you think in real time.

There was no reason to sign anything but 'Yes'-- he took your hand and pressed a raunchy kiss against the back of it. If that was to hide how excited he was, it didn't work.

A second of distance gave you the chance to push on his chest. He glanced around your face, troubled for a second-- he found nothing but lustful wonder in your eyes.

His bouncy chest dipped into a cascade of perfect, taut lines across his tummy. You brushed your knuckles, curious, over each of his abs and thumbed the dip of his abdomen to his pelvis. You dodged another kiss.

"See something you like, princess?" Was in a mutter, brushing your temple.

Oikawa often got to ride a line of teasing you and requesting the praise he so badly needed. You smirked and pressed a peck to his sharp jawline.

"You wanna--ah-," He faltered, softened- twitchy and breathy, when you took his pretty cock in your hand, "Tell... me-,"

You shushed him. He didn't try to keep teasing you like that- plus, you were sure he didn't mean to come across as so cute and whiny.

Although you had both been with other people, those experiences left something to be desired. He knew that you, especially, needed a good time tonight. There wasn't a single moment that he hadn't been careful about.

He replaced your hand with his and slid himself over your sex, filling the space between your legs, getting himself coated in your sticky warmth. He watched your chest rise with a pleased gasp and grinned.

It was just what you needed. You squeezed your inner thighs as the friction built -or faded depending on how you framed it- your labored sighs quickly grew between needy kisses.

Your tummy was in knots at the feeling of his restrained groans on your mouth.

He parted for only a moment to snatch a condom from the dresser and tear it open with his teeth. You didn't realize how much you didn't care until he did so- but were grateful he made it easy.

He lined himself up and your panting stilled at the new pressure.

Oikawa busied you with a fervent kiss as soon as he felt you tense. It wasn't a cure, but it did remedy what would've been pain. The thought behind it was what really did it for you.

"I know it's not th'same," He muttered, a little slurred, "But fuck- you feel so good."

Your brow furrowed at the intensity of his admission. You rolled your head back into the crook of his shoulder with a shrinking giggle.

He was easier to take, after that.

Oikawa had become an expert on how pick up your small noises, especially in overwhelming spaces. It was almost like he crafted a special device in his brain to detect you. That's why your love was so special; he made space for you when nobody else did. He tried harder than anyone else to hear you. He cared to try.

Tiny, desperate moans on your breath brushed by his ear- he groaned at the sensation and filled his palm with your soft thigh.

It was good thing, too-- your legs were getting far too heavy, you were grateful that he could hold them in place for you.

"H-ahh, mmm-!" You clipped your own sound short with a gasp.

He was quick to catch it, "That feel good, baby?"

Your thigh was squished further up, nestled between his bicep and his forearm- you watched, eyes clouded and glossy.

His veiny hand filled with your flesh, coupled with how good he filled you up, brought another whine forward.

He swallowed a huffy moan, unable to keep himself from provocation. "Yeah?"

That second bottom hand wrapped around your throat to help guide you for that kiss he wanted. But, you found it impossible to return his hungry prodding with the new buzzing that started to grow in your head.

Your body twitched under him, a cascade of mumble-y 'uh-huh's and 'mm-hm's spilling onto his lips.

It made him chuckle. His eyes began to wander to your chest- as did his hand.

However, you found yourself quickly pushing it back, warm and strong on your skin.

Oikawa couldn't have looked more amused, nor any more proud to indulge you. The sensation was leagues better now that he had an awareness over what it did for you.

"Mmmn-! Mm-!" You threaded your fingers through his soft locks while he squeezed and fucked you harder, completely engrossed by how badly you needed him.

Though this orientation was nice for kissing and cuddling and the start of it all, he was slowly pushing you onto your stomach.

Instead of wasting any time to talk about it, you pushed back on his hip.

He let you go at once, confused for a moment, but blindly followed with a breathy laugh when you rolled onto your tummy and pushed your chest onto the mattress.

Oikawa looked down at you from behind, hands squeezing at your hips.

You were face-down on his pillow, your thighs spread and ass arched up, dripping onto his sheets, patient and yearning for him to fill you up again.

Oh, he couldn't do that without finishing early. Not unless he fucked you with his eyes closed. He swallowed a chuckle and settled over you, trapping your wrists above your head with one hand while he stretched you back out.

It didn't take longer than a few seconds to realize just how strong, how heavy he was, when you tried to adjust your arms closer. There was no moving out of this.

The shock made way for surprise at how quickly this made the tension in your tummy grow- you fisted the sheets, squeezing at how his size hit you from a more intense position.

He placed his other hand back around your neck and you were so grateful he didn't try to make you wait for it.

Although he wasn't as rough as he was right before you switched, you didn't necessarily need it to be. It gave you an opportunity to adjust. It was so slick, the pressure just right.

And you couldn't keep your whines down- with his face right next to yours, he was getting an earful of it all.

"Good girl, f-uck," His groan morphed into a half-laugh, half-whine that clipped his words. It took an equally perceptive person to find the vulnerability and rawness to his praise.

He looked almost angry- his focus was so intense it twisted his muscles up tight.

"Ah!" You squeaked, panting at the sweetness and devotion in his voice.

"Yeaahh, A-augh-Mmn, that's fuckin' ri-ght," His words wavered with a stutter pressed firm against your hair. It really did it for him that you enjoyed his pet names. He loved spoiling you like that, because you deserved it.

He was swelling up inside you, harder, much like his strokes that kept hitting you just right. His closed-mouth groans told you he would cum if only you begged him to.

"M-m-Aah!" A sharp, shuddery whine evaded his hand.

He seethed with a groan and stalled, filling your cunt to the base. Your sounds were breaking down the wall he'd built up in his head so he could balance himself on a dangerous edge.

It didn't really help. His stilled hips, driven deeper than he let it before, only made you want him more. You wiggled against the weight of his body to try and get something, but he gripped you tighter.

"Shhhh," He bit the shell of your ear, baited breath as he locked you in this mean, motionless torture.

His body was too solid for you to move- you could only bite the sheets and wince at your delayed gratification. And fuck, was it worth it.

Rough, calloused fingers readjusted around your neck. His whisper was laden and filthy against your ear as he started to turn you out again:

"Let me hear that pretty voice," He barely got it out- he was seething, completely taken with your tight pussy clenching around him.

He was deeper, rougher, but you could take it.

A sting was at your eyes, forcing them shut, from the staggering waves of pleasure he fucked into you. You completely surrendered all resignation about your volume in moments.

"A-ah-h!-!"

Your whole body seized but it did nothing-- he held you so steady through it. You were cumming before you realized what was happening. It spurred a gasp that yielded to a long, drawn-out orgasm.

An unrestrained cry fell from your lips at its peak. It left your ears ringing and gave your partner the proud satisfaction of getting to finish after you.

It left you dizzy, dumb, and forgetful until he was back at your side, pulling you close to his chest and massaging your scalp. You pressed your body close to his as he pulled the sheets over you.

You tried clearing your throat but found it raw and a little painful. You didn't realize he was talking to you until he started rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

He watched your face work as you craned around to look at him and decided to snuggle facing towards his chest. You could feel him chuckling at your familiar, endearing silence.

taglist.

@yuchacco

@integers

requests: OPEN

my masterlist

[twola]

i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully. 

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin. 

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron. 

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man. 

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts. 

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

[catholicdaredevil]

disarming || tormund giantsbane x gn! reader

hello all! i haven't posted anything i've written in a while (over a year) but when prompted by my daughter grack i searched back through my google docs and found this fic that i don't think i ever posted so here we go! (also this hasn't been edited lol)

summary: gn! reader kills a thenn and tormund is bricked over it

words: 2k

warnings: violence!!!!!! use of knives, punching, kicking, stabbing, and killing!!!! to be fair it's all canon typical violence for game of thrones but still there's your warning! also short references to nsfw but no detailed action

ao3 link

Warm callused hands framed your face and he leaned in to kiss you. 

Except Tormund didn’t kiss you, kiss was too gentle a word for it, he consumed you. Every time he pressed his mouth to yours it was like he was trying to drink you down, overwhelming sensations of nothing but him causing your brain to go haywire. He didn’t give pecks, no small chaste kisses, that was your thing. When you’d walk past him and pause just to creep up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek then carry on with whatever you were previously doing. Sometimes he let you, he knew you liked those gentle kisses, wanted to give you whatever you wanted when he could. 

However most times he’d slip his hands into your hair, or around your waist and pull you into him with strength you couldn’t get out of if you tried, tip your head back and deepen the kiss. And if when you finally pulled away you looked dizzy, hair a mess and breathing ragged, then that was just a bonus. 

“I swear on–on– on all of the southern gods, every single one of them, that if you ever come near me again I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” your finger jabbed into the Thenn’s chest, loud voice carrying throughout the camp. You can hear the mutters of people gathering around, the syncopated overlapped voices of the other free folk watching, waiting. 

“If you didn’t have Tormund to back you up I bet you’d be so much quieter. Maybe you need someone to teach you to be quiet, little one.” He leaned in, voice low and predatory with a grin stretching out the scars that covered his face. Those white lines marking a Thenn that always made a chill run down your spine. 

“I need no one to back me up, I don't want Tormund’s help and he couldn’t stop me if he wanted to. You think I would be Tormund’s if I couldn’t handle my own?” 

As if he could sense his name spoken from across the way, you hear Tormund walk up, his loud voice familiar enough to pick out of the crowd circled around you and the Thenn. 

“What’s going on?” Tormund’s words end in a growl as he finally breaks through the masses to see you. 

Your mouth twisted down into an angry frown and the hand not currently inches from the other man’s chest is clenched into a fist and trembling just slightly at your side. He takes the final few steps to get to your side, a glare pinning the man in front of you in place. He had joked before but only a fool didn’t hesitate going up against Tormund Giantsbane. There was a reason he was Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower and Breaker of Ice. Tormund was less a man and more a force, a storm that roved over lands destroying anything stupid enough to get in his way. 

Tormund’s hand rests on your shoulder, his body tense in anticipation, always seconds away from swinging a blade at anyone who so much as dares to glare at you and this is no different. You speak one last time before turning to walk off, “I won’t warn you again.” 

“And how do you plan to kill me little one? By whinging? Yelling? You couldn’t kill me if Tormund trained you for years.” 

His cocky words are enough to break your last shred of patience left and you spin before Tormund can react, stomping across the frozen dirt, fist clenched and ready to throw a punch. Luckily Tormund recovers fast enough to grab your elbow mid-swing and you round on him, ready to yell that you’d had enough of that shit eating grin and he could try to eat his next kill with less teeth. 

“You’ll break your sweet little hand on that ugly fucker, here.” Tormund lifts your hand to kiss across your knuckles and pushes a knife into it and nods approvingly, twisting you around to face the Thenn again. You get to watch the smirk melt off the man’s face. This is no longer a game, not even an argument. He has two options now; let you kill him or fight you and have Tormund kill him. There’s no scenario where he lays a hand on you and lives to talk about it. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You disarm me fair and square and you win, Tormund’ll let you live. If not, I carve that smirk from your face.” Your head tilts expectantly and the Thenn’s eyes shift from you to Tormund, watching the small nod Tormund gives in agreement before looking back to you. 

He grins. “Deal.”

He moves faster than you expected, quick for such a large man, but it doesn’t matter. He swings his hand out to hit you and you duck, adrenaline surging through you as your instincts take over. He’s a fool and a cocky one at that and you’re going to show him. You drop your breathing to slow and controlled, crouching slightly to study him, eyes scanning over his tall form to pick out the best places to strike. 

His leg shoots out and slams into your side. Pain blossoms across your stomach and you bite your cheek to muffle your cry, wrapping your arm around his ankle to keep him on one foot. He’s stronger than you and you know you won’t be able to hold him there for long, but you don’t need long. Your blade sinks into his leg right above his knee, twisting before you yank it back out and he tugs his leg from you with a scream. He expects you to attempt to hold onto it, so when you drop it the force of his pull twists him off balance and he has to stumble to catch himself, grunting through the shooting pain the steps cause. 

“You’re a fool. You’re a fool and I warned you.” You spit blood at his feet. He looks up to meet your eyes again and there’s a split second where you’re concerned about the rage so clearly shown on his every feature. Taking a deep breath, you force your body to relax, shaking out the tension in your joints and twisting your head until your neck cracks loudly. 

The sounds of the crowd have risen, voices overlapping and in the back of your mind you register a familiar voice shushing them all. The man in front of you is too focused on kicks, anything to keep you as far from him as possible thinking his strength lies in his reach spanning farther than your own. He swings a hand and his fist connects with your temple, your entire head rings, vision going blurry and black around the edges and you gasp. 

It takes you a moment to catch your bearings, a few stumbled steps and ragged intakes of breath, and that’s all it takes. The bottom of his foot lands solidly on your chest and he pushes with a force that likely cracked several ribs, knocking you to the ground. His own chest heaves with exertion, walking forward to stand over you and you can see the way he struggles with restraint, unused to leaving an enemy alive after a fight. 

He opens his mouth to speak and hesitates at the last second. Blood trails down your chin, shadowing a grin that gives him pause in his victory, but not long enough to stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “Fair and square.” 

“I said disarm me,” 

He puts the pieces together too late. 

The knife still clutched tightly in your hand that wrapped around where he stood slices through the back of his ankles on both feet and he drops with a scream. Crumpling to the ground, the Thenn grabs at his bleeding feet, attempting to staunch the blood that flows around his fingers and pours onto the ground below him. You’ve risen to your feet in his panic, swaying slightly as your head gets caught up in the dizzy waves of a concussion. Luckily your adrenaline still pumping through your veins is enough to keep you standing long enough for him to look up at you and lock eyes one last time. 

Your knife finds its home in the small space between the side of his collarbone and neck, right where it’s still soft and relatively easy to drive it as far in as it will go. You push until the heel of the knife clinks into bone and he finally collapses below you, ripping the hilt from your hand in his fall. He lets out one final choked off gurgle, eyes rolling back and lids closing and he’s dead. His and your blood stains your hands and clothes, a messy watercolor of death.

Now that the fight is over your body threatens to collapse, hands on your locked-up knees to keep from hitting the ground. Eyes slammed shut in an attempt to limit the way the world spins on his axis like a top and warm large arms wrap around your middle to vault you into the air. 

The earth shakes below you, but maybe that’s just Tormund in his raucous laughter and shouted words. “I told you all! Mine doesn’t need anyone for anything! Only needs me around to fuck them ‘til they cry!” 

Heat blooms in your face at his exclamation to the surrounding crowd, your hand smacking into his shoulder feebly. You doubt that even with all your strength you could do much to the man beyond a bee sting, but he grunts in fake pain at your strike just to indulge you. “I don’t think I need you for even that, I did a pretty good job at doing it myself before you came along.”

“But I do it better.” 

His almost crystal blue eyes meet yours and he’s wearing that shit-eating, Tormund Giantsbane, wolfish grin. The one that probably earned him the name Tall Talker if you had to guess. The look is more familiar than even your family and you can’t help but mirror it back at him in your own way, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“Aye, you uncivilized great behemoth of a man. You do it better.” 

Tormund connects his lips with yours, quickly licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, drinking you down. He gets the satisfaction of the taste of you and the bitter clash of your blood that only spurs him on until his hands are fisted in your shirt and you’re whining into his mouth, almost grinding onto him from your place in his arms. 

His hold on you only tightens until he pushes on your cracked ribs and you jerk away from his touch with a broken gasp. You drop your head to his shoulder, breathing slowly through the sharp pain until it passes, slipping back into the gentle throb it sits at as a baseline. Tormund presses a kiss to your forehead, one hand softly running up the line of your spine in comfort, already walking towards your shared home. 

“Let’s get those clothes off and I can see just how hurt you are.” He says, pushing aside the door and kicking it shut behind the two of you. He sets you down on the bed delicately, not wanting to cause you anymore pain and you smile up at him standing above you. 

“I’m fine really. Well– I might have a concussion.” 

“I’ll get you taken care of my pretty little crow. Then I’ll make you cum on my tongue so many times you cry. Seeing you kill a Thenn has me harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life.” Tormund speaks the words like they’re normal, a casual conversation and mention of murder being sexy. Of course you’re sure a big part of the whole sexy-murder thing has to do with his hatred for Thenn’s and the specificity of your victim. Not that you’ll complain, or turn down the offer. 

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

The Legend of the Gobblewonker

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1 (next), Headhunters Pt. 2, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 2, The Inconveniencing, Dipper Vs. Manliness

The first thing that seems suspicious to Stan is now refreshed he feels upon waking up.

He hasn't felt this good in thirty years. Hell, maybe even longer than that!

It's like the strain of constant all-nighters and age-related body aches have been lifted from him overnight.

Stan feels like a twenty year old again and it freaks him out. 

His back doesn't even ache when he sits up and overcompensates the motion, nearly throwing himself out of the bed.

He hits the floor with a muffled grunt, surprised when the landing doesn't hurt. His skin is so thin these days that just bumping into the dining table leaves him bruised for weeks.

Stan rolls to a stop, sitting against the wall with his hair flopping in his face.

"Just great," he grumbles, pushing his unruly, brown curls out of his eyes. He paused, brow furrowing as he contemplated the strands between his fingers.

Wait― brown?

His hair hasn't been brown since before Soos was born and hold on! How long has it been since he could see this clearly without his glasses? Granted, his vision is still pretty blurry looking at things up close, but he could make out the babes on his magazines over on the dresser. 

He really should put those away somewhere in case the twins decided to come snooping in his room.

Almost robotically, Stan picks himself up off the floor and puts away his copies of Fully Clothed Women. Then, with poorly concealed anxiety, he turns to face the mirror. A terrified teenager stares back at him with wide, clear eyes. The absence of cataracts makes denying the reality of his situation an impossible feat.

The face in the mirror is one he loathes. The boy who ruined his brother's future and tore apart their family. He has a rounded baby face with only a hint of a sharp jawline waiting to form. His eyebrows are as brown and thick as his hair, dark curls that stick up all over the place without extra-strength gel to hold them back. There's acne spots on his chin and not even a trace of stubble to hide the freckles he's had since childhood. Even the boy's ears are smaller and he's screaming. 

Stanley Pines is screaming in his bedroom like he's being murdered and he can't figure out how to stop.

"Grunkle Stan!"

The twins burst into the room like wrecking balls, brandishing a golf club and a grappling hook with fear in their eyes. 

At least he hid his magazines in time.

They scream at the sight of him and, hey, he can relate, but the sound hurts his ears. Hurts enough to stop his own screaming. 

Even in a seventeen-year old’s body, he might still need the hearing aide after that. 

"Grunkle Stan, what happened to you?" Mabel shrieks, her eyes wide. "Was it the gnomes? Did they use some kind of gnomey magic on you as revenge for me not marrying them?"

Dipper, half-hidden behind his sister's wild bedhead, stares at him with a slack jaw. Apparently, he's been left speechless by the sight of his now teenage great-uncle.

But… gnomes?

Already the kids have gotten involved with the town's weirdness.

Stan has to salvage the situation as best he can before the twins run off into the woods in search of some mystic answer. 

He runs a hand over his hair, smoothing it back only for it to spring forward again and stick to his forehead. Ugh. Had he always been this sweaty as a teenager?

He pitied Dipper if that were the case.

"Beats me, kid." Stan says as he looks back at the mirror, trying to keep a hold on his rising anxiety. That same horrible face stares back at him. He shudders and forces his gaze back to the twins. "Probably the result of some radioactive runoff. It'll fade in a day or two, no sweat. But stay out of the woods. I don't want you running into anything and makin' me change diapers. You two want breakfast? I'm thinkin' pancakes."

“Grunkle Stan, how can you think of food at a time like this?” Dipper cries, his voice breaking. Yeesh, is Stan going to have to worry about his voice doing that again? “What if this is some magical curse that’ll deage you right out of existence? Ohhh man, I gotta check the journal!”

Well, that’s a horrifying thought.

But Stan’s mind short-circuits at the boy’s words.

Journal?

Journal?!

Only a few days in Gravity Falls and the boy finds the very thing Stan’s spent thirty years looking for.

What kinda cosmic bullshit―?!

Stan groans and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Look, kid. You wanna hit the books, then fine.” he huffs. “But you’ll do it at the breakfast table. Mabel, sweetie, you wanna help me get everything together?”

Dipper looks affronted by the brush-off, but Mabel looks conflicted. She looks Stan overly slowly, taking in the way he’s standing straight and his clear eyes. There’s anxiety written all over his face that he’s struggling to conceal behind an expressionless face.

“You’re sure you feel alright?” she asks, coming to some conclusion about his new state.

Stan softens at her concern and gently ruffles her hair.

“Better than I’ve felt in years.” he confirms solemnly. “And I’ll be even better once I get some food. C’mon, kids.”

The twins follow him without complaint, but much concern in their body language.

Stan fights the urge to look back at his strange reflection. This was just perfect. Not only did he have the kids underfoot, but he was also so close to that final piece of the puzzle to getting his brother back only to have to figure out a way to get it from his great-nephew without being found out. And on top of that, he had somehow become seventeen again overnight!

A long day stretched out ahead of him and made his chest clench. There would be no opening the Shack today, that was for sure, but…

Well, he’d gone to bed with the thought last night. What was stopping him from putting it into motion now?

A Family Fun day was just what they needed with this new revelation. And he’d be damned if he let some Gravity Falls weirdness get in the way.

Getting the kids into the car is easy enough. They're not willing to let him out of their sight for long and it was a headache in and of itself to shake them long enough to put his fishing gear in the car. They don't question his choice of shorts and a T-shirt.

His suit is too big for him now, loose in the shoulders and stomach in a way it's never been before. No girdle needed and he loathes the idea of taking the suit in any in case this sudden weirdness fades and he's left without his signature look.

The twins take their arrival at the lake with less grace.

And maybe coming out to the lake where the whole town has gathered isn't the best of ideas with him looking this way. But Stan has half of a plan to deal with that when someone brings it up. It'll be fine. They'll be fine.

"C'mon," he urges the twins when they still seem skeptical. "This'll be great! I've never had fishin' buddies before. The guys at the lodge won’t go with me― they don't like or trust me."

The words don't actually sway them, but like he said: they don't want to let him out of their sight. If he wasn't so relieved about keeping them out of the woods, the sentiment might bother him. He's been around the block way longer than they have. And he's taken care of himself just fine since he actually was seventeen. He didn't need to babysat.

But he'll use their concern to his advantage.

They're not impressed by his handmade hats or his joke book, but they don't get the chance to protest before McGucket arrives in the middle of another one of his episodes.

But the town hillbilly's words seem to light a fire in Dipper about a monster hunt. And, of course, Mabel is ready to follow her brother into the unknown.

Which is when Soos comes in.

Stan had hoped to keep him out of it for a little longer, but the man is practically the only family Stan's had in ten years. There was never a chance at keeping him out of the loop for long.

He freaks out. Stares at Stan like he's the one of the Wonders of the World and, for once, Stan hates it.

"Yeah, it's really me." Stan grumbles, a pout forming as he crosses his arms. "Now shut your yap so we can get fishin' ''

"I dunno, Mr. Pines." Soos says awkwardly, scratching at his scalp. His hat is dislodged by the movement, revealing a few wisps of his dark hair. "You sure it's a good idea to go out like that? I mean, what if you turn into a merman or something? Dude, that'd be so cool if you did, but I don't think it's a good idea to mess with magic like that, dawg."

"There's no magic here," Stan insists grumpily, glaring holes into his handyman's head. Seriously, he had to worry about him blowing the lid on everything, too? "I just wanna go fishin', is that too much to ask?"

The kids look conflicted, but it isn't enough to keep them from getting on Soos' boat and dragging Stan along.

Well, as long as he looks like a teenager, then he's gonna act like one.

Stan plops down in the seat behind the wheel and refuses to join the others as Dipper goes about explaining his plan. He knows that fishing doesn't seem like the most fun  of pastimes, but there was more to it than that! It was a chance to sit down with someone and talk without the distractions of everyday life getting in the way. Like the forced bonding that came with high school with thae chance of free dinner at the end.

Still, it is a little funny watching Soos eat fish bait. Stan turns his head and refuses to laugh at him. Or at Mabel's terrible ventriloquism. There was an idea for a shack attraction.

Scuttlebutt island is just as terrible as he thought it'd be, all wet fog and strange shadows in the distance. Stan has no idea about what’s lurking here and he hurries out of the boat in case something tries to grab the kids.

And something did. A huge, hulking monstrosity of a sea beast.

Once, Stan had dreamed of finding something like that alongside his brother, him punching the thing into submission so Ford could dissect it.

Forty years and a pair of kids by his side turned that dream into a nightmare.

He found himself screaming again, a twin under each arm as he and Soos sprint away from the Gobblewonker, only a step ahead of those sharp teeth. Then it's back into the boat where he has to hold onto the kids to keep them from flying out of the boat while they race across the water, nearly overturning some Hallmark family and their boat. Dan Corduroy and his sons go right in the drink before Soos crashes the boat into a hidden cave behind the falls.

Dipper is ecstatic with the capture of the lake monster before it's revealed to be McGucket piloting a monster machine like the Wizard of Oz.

"You just don't know the lengths us old-timers go through for a little quality time with our family."

The words ring more true Stan cares to admit and they seem to reach the twins, too.

"You think we still have enough time to go fishing?" Dipper asks hopefully, in sync with his sister as they don the hats Stan gave them.

He smiles reluctantly at the sight and they take the remnants of Soos' boat back to the Stan 'O War II.

"Hey, you knuckleheads ever seen me thread a hook with my eyes closed?" Stan grins once they're safely in his boat.

"Five bucks says you can't do it!" Dipper accepts eagerly, showing some of Stan's own personality.

"You're on!" Stan declares, trapping the boy in a noogie.

Dipper shrieks and laughs, unable to fend him off until Mabel jumps in to help.

"Five more bucks says you can't do it with your eyes closed plus me singing at the top of my lungs!" she screeches with her hands around his throat and joy in her tone.

"I like those odds!" Stan roars with laughter as he plucks her off his shoulders to blow raspberries against her belly.

It's not the perfect Family Fun Day he'd hoped for, but there's more laughter in that one afternoon on the lake than he's had in forty years. And he’ll take that for all it’s worth, Gravity Falls weirdness involved or not.

[steddiealltheway]

Part two of The Danger in Romanticizing. Part One. Ao3 Link.

The entire time Eddie is over, Steve can’t stop smiling. There’s just something about him that puts Steve at ease and simultaneously keeps him on his feet with the continuous banter. And he brings out a side of Chrissy that he’s never seen before that makes Steve like her even more. Even Robin seems in constant high spirits around him, making jokes about nerdy shit that has Steve exchanging confused looks with Chrissy.  

But Steve also finds solace in Eddie whenever they become clear third wheels to the couple. And honestly, it’s nice to have someone else to share these moments with, and he doesn’t just mean Eddie. The four of them together fill a hole in Steve’s heart that he didn’t know was empty. 

When it gets late, Eddie and Chrissy begin to excuse themselves, and Steve’s heart sinks a little. But at least he knows he’ll at least see Chrissy soon. 

He moves toward the front hallway as the girls go into Robin’s room to have a private moment before they say goodbye. 

Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and smiles at Steve. “I’ve never had someone around for this part. Then again, usually I just go to my room.” 

“I do the same, but this is nice.” 

“It is,” Eddie agrees, taking a step closer to him. 

Steve takes a stabilizing breath as Eddie pushes into his personal space hardly for the first time that night. It seems like he’s incapable of keeping his distance, but Steve doesn’t mind. 

“It was really nice meeting you. Better than I expected,” Eddie admits. 

Steve laughs. “I would hope so, considering we were prepared for the worst.” 

“And it’s a good thing I was so I could be slightly prepared for the sight of your closet,” Eddie jokes, crossing his arms and leaning forward. 

Steve lightly shoves him back while rolling his eyes, but Eddie just chuckles in response and bounces right back into his space. Steve fixes him with a look and asks, “What are you going to do when you inevitably see me in my horrible clothes?” 

“Begrudgingly admit that you look good in them.” 

The comment takes Steve off guard, but as he’s searching for a way to reply, Eddie points behind him. Steve turns and finds that he’s pointing at a picture of Robin at her high school graduation in her cap and gown beaming at the camera as Steve pulls her into his side with a proud smile wearing one of his favorite striped polos. He smiles at the memory. 

“I don’t know how you do it, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.” 

Steve snorts and turns back to Eddie. “I doubt I could pull off your style either.” 

Eddie looks him up and down for a moment before saying, “If I wasn’t about to leave then I would say we should trade clothes right now.” 

“Maybe another time?” 

“Definitely, as long as there’s no photo evidence.” 

Steve laughs again and claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad we finally met.” 

“Me too,” Eddie says with a small smile. 

Steve isn’t sure why, but he lets his hand linger on Eddie’s arm for a moment, debating if it’s too soon to hug him goodbye. 

Unfortunately, Robin and Chrissy decide that’s the best moment to leave Robin’s room, so Steve quickly drops his hand from Eddie’s shoulder and shoves it in his pocket. He ignores the look Robin gives him and moves toward the front door. 

They go through the process of saying goodbye and Steve hugs Chrissy while Robin pulls Eddie into a hug. When they pull away, Steve can see Robin and Chrissy watching him and Eddie intently, so in a moment of panic he holds out his hand in front of him, going for a handshake and an awkward, “Good to meet you.” 

Eddie just smiles and takes his hand, shaking it once before letting go. Steve tries not to let his hand linger for too long and pulls it through his hair to give it something else to do. 

He watches sadly as the pair leave, understanding why Robin always lingers in the doorway for a little while after Chrissy leaves. 

He watches as Eddie turns back and gives him a final wave that Steve quickly returns before he gets into what must be his car with Chrissy. Once they drive off, Robin slowly closes the door. 

The pair linger for a moment then Steve rushes off to the living room saying, “I need to call Dustin!” 

He starts dialing the number before Robin can say anything about the evening, and Steve tries to ignore why he’s unwilling to reflect. Luckily, Dustin’s mom answers the phone quickly. “Hello?” 

“Hi Ms. Henderson, it’s Steve.” 

Claudia coos on the other line, “Steve! It’s so good to hear your voice. How is life in the city?” 

Steve smiles and sits on the arm of the couch. “It’s great! I’m really enjoying it here. In fact, I think Dustin would too. I was wondering if he could come visit one weekend. I could even get Robin to take him on a tour of the college.” 

“That sounds wonderful! I was just-” There’s a little commotion on the line as Steve hears Dustin ask who his mom is talking to then rustling as Dustin tries to take the phone from her hands. “Dusty-!” 

“Steve!” Dustin yells into the phone. 

Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing a bit. “Hey Henderson, you’re never going to believe who I just met.” Robin shoots him a smile as she goes into her room and closes the door. 

“Carl Sagan.” 

“No. Wait, who?” 

“Carl Sagan,” Dustin repeats sounding annoyed. “You know the astronomer and astrophys-” 

“Let’s circle back to this later. But think about some of your favorite books,” Steve tries again. 

Dustin pauses before saying, “Well, Tolkien is dead, so I’m not sure who you could be talking about.” 

Steve sighs and gives up. “Eddie Munson.” 

There’s a pause on the other line then a gasp. “No way! He’s never put any author description or any way to contact him! How could you have met him?” 

“Friend of a friend,” Steve answers simply. “But guess what?” 

“He’s a total asshole?” Dustin guesses excitedly. 

Steve pinches his nose and dramatically slides onto the couch. “You’re killing me, Henderson. But no, he’s not an asshole. He’s actually really great, and he agreed to meet you. Plus, apparently, Maybe We’re the Same was originally a novel instead of a children’s book.” 

“You’re telling me that there’s more to the universe that I will directly be able to ask the author about?” 

“Yes.” 

Dustin laughs on the other line and yells, “Mike is going to be so jealous! Do you think I could bring some of Will’s drawings that were inspired by the book? He’s always wanted to get feedback from Eddie.” 

Steve shrugs. “I mean yeah sure. But I’m not sure what he’ll really be able to say.” 

“Dude, Eddie illustrated the book, of course he’s going to have a lot to say. I wonder if he could use some of Will’s art if he ever decides to publish the original novel! Oh! You should bring him to Hawkins whenever you visit so he can meet the whole party! Only after I visit though! I want to be able to have bragging rights.” 

Steve smiles as he listens to Dustin rant, but he gets stuck on the fact that Eddie illustrated the book and finds himself wondering what else he draws and if his original novel included more drawings that he had to cut from the children’s book. If so, how could he decide what to keep and what to remove? 

Steve shakes his head as he goes down a rabbit hole of more questions for Eddie that he wants to ask. It’s like everything new he finds out about him makes him want to learn more. 

“Earth to Steve. Do you copy?” Dustin says loudly. 

Steve blinks and clears his throat. “Yeah. Sorry, I was in my own world for a second there.” 

“I was just saying how I’ll have to ask my mom if I can visit during fall break which is about three weeks from now.” 

Steve smiles and sits up. “Yeah, I’ll have to check my calendar, but I usually don’t have anything planned for the weekends. I’ll also have to check with Robin, but your mom sounded excited about you visiting when I mentioned it to her earlier.” 

“Awesome! I can’t believe this! But hey, Suzie is going to call soon, so I have to go, but call sometime so we can catch up!” 

Steve smiles sadly and nods. “I’ll call when I can get some plans solidified. It was good talking to you. Tell Suzie I say hi.” 

“I will! Bye, Steve.” 

“Bye, Dustin.” Steve puts the phone back in its holder and tries to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought of all the kids growing up. He slowly stands up and makes his way to Robin’s door, knocking before pushing it open. 

She looks up at him from her small desk and puts her pencil down. “Dustin’s visiting?” 

“If you’re okay with putting up with him for a weekend.” 

Robin leans back in her chair and sighs, “I’m probably going to regret saying this, but I kind of miss the kid. So, I don’t mind putting up with him as long as I don’t have some big exam or paper coming up and he bothers me while studying.” 

“I may have also told his mom that you wouldn’t mind showing him around the campus,” Steve confesses, deciding to bite the bullet early on so she can’t complain too much later. 

Robin’s mouth pulls into a flat line before she throws her hands up and says, “Sure. Why not? As long as Chrissy can help because she’d be better at selling the place.” 

“Sound good,” Steve affirms with a smile, stepping back to leave Robin to her homework. 

“Wait,” Robin says and crosses her arms. “What did you really think of Eddie?” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. He thought he was pretty clear about how he felt. “He’s great. I mean, I can see why you would think we wouldn’t get along, but that’s just surface-level stuff.” 

“He’s not too much for you?” Robin presses on. 

Steve shakes his head and says, “He’s...” he trails off when he realizes the next word that comes to mind is perfect. He clears his throat and corrects himself. “He’s really great." 

It’s like a weight is lifted off Robin’s shoulders. She’s quick to ramble, “Okay, that’s great! Now we can hang out more as a group, and there isn’t this overbearing weight of ‘what if they hate each other?’ Because at first, we both agreed that you two would either hate each other’s guts or you’d absolutely...” she trails off and freezes. 

“Absolutely what?” 

Robin shakes her head and looks down at her nails. “You’d absolutely hit it off like you just did now,” she completes the thought, but Steve can tell that’s not what she was going to say. 

“Mhm,” Steve says, trying to pull the truth out of her. 

Instead, Robin just blazes on saying, “But you know I tend to assume the worst, and Chrissy sometimes does too.” 

“It’s like you two were made to worry each other to death,” Steve teases. 

Robin flips him off and turns back to her work staring at some type of worksheet. “I’m glad you like him.” 

Steve’s heart beats a little too hard at the comment. “Me too.” He steps out of the doorway and says, “Good luck with your work.” 

“I’m gonna need it,” Robin groans. 

Steve closes the door behind him and makes his way to his room, grabbing Eddie’s book as he sits on his bed. His fingers trace over the cover of The Boy as he looks off in the distance at the dragon coming to attack the town while Dart stands at his side. Steve has no idea how Eddie can be so damn talented and embarrassed about it. He wonders if he’s the same way about whatever instrument he played in his band. 

Steve sighs and lays back, trying not to think too hard about the man as he flips through the pages of his book with new appreciation for all his drawings. When he gets to the end of the story, he closes it and places it on his nightstand, staring off at his blank walls. 

Eddie was right, he needs to decorate. But he’s not getting rid of any of his clothes. 

Steve shakes his head and wonders how someone new can have such a big impact on his life in such a short amount of time. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve rushes to get ready, opting to get a few more minutes of sleep before going in. In his rush, he forgets to leave Robin a note to tell Chrissy to tell Eddie he says hi. But as the day goes on, he can’t help but think that the notion of the note could’ve been a little too ridiculous. 

He forgets it entirely when he gets in the tedious process of going through paperwork, but he’s glad that he has an excuse for staying away from the floor where Collin is swaggering around. Steve sometimes wonders if all his stories are lies to cover the fact that no one finds him as attractive as he finds himself. 

When the clock hits five, Steve immediately clocks out and rushes to get back to his apartment. As soon as he’s inside, he feels a sense of relief. 

Robin peaks around the corner while he’s taking off his shoes. “Hey, how was work?” 

“Same as always.” 

“How’s Collin?” 

Steve chuckles, “Same as always. How were your classes?”

Robin groans, “My sociolinguistics professor still talks too damn fast, but the class is literally about language. And I had my work shift without Chrissy today.”

“Tragic,” Steve teases, making his way to the fridge to figure out what he’ll make for dinner that night. 

“Oh! I nearly forgot. Chrissy wanted me to tell you that Eddie asked her to tell me to tell you he says hi.” 

Steve slowly turns around and squints at Robin as he processes what the hell she just said. 

“Eddie says hi,” she quickly clarifies as it finally clicks. 

Steve smiles, thinking that maybe the note wouldn’t have been so ridiculous after all. “Well, tell Chrissy to tell Eddie that I say hi.” 

“Will do,” Robin says, saluting him before making her way back to her room. 

The rest of the night goes by fairly quickly once Steve starts making dinner, opting for an easy enchilada recipe for two. Him and Robin fill each other in on the rest of their days over dinner like always, and Steve follows the tradition of hanging around the kitchen while Robin does the dishes, going on about random stuff like trying to plan what they’ll do when Dustin gets there. 

At eight, Robin makes her way to the couch and settles in next to their phone to complete her nightly call with Chrissy. Steve politely excuses himself (rolls his eyes and tells Robin to not be so disgustingly in love when they have thin walls) and puts on some light music to give her privacy. 

Steve sits on his bed and debates going through his latest sports magazine, but instead, he stares at his walls and tries to imagine hanging stuff up. He’s not sure why it’s so hard with just his room since every other place in the apartment is decorated just fine. But maybe it’s the combination of his childhood bedroom like he told Eddie and the fact that maybe his walls reflect how he feels about himself. 

He doesn’t mean for it to be a sad thought. But outside of high school, he feels... unimportant and uninteresting. And maybe a little bit stuck. 

His mind flashes back to his conversation with Eddie asking him why he doesn’t do something else. Honestly, he doesn’t know what else he would like to do. He makes it by at his dad’s dealership, but he doesn’t really enjoy his job. Sure, interacting with people can be nice, but the paperwork just gives him a headache. Or maybe it’s just Collin. 

He sighs and lays back on his bed. Maybe one day he’ll figure it out. 

There’s a light knock on his door and Steve props himself up on his elbows as Robin opens the door. “There’s a call for you.” 

Steve frowns. Usually people don’t call him. “I didn’t hear the phone ring,” he comments as he makes his way to the living room and picks up the phone. “Hello?” 

“What are you wearing?” 

Steve laughs as Chrissy yells, “Eddie!” in the background of the call. He can practically see the face the two of them are making at each other even though he has only known Eddie for a little more than twenty-four hours.  

“I’m wearing one of my green polos with khakis,” Steve answers easily. “No belt though because I took it off once I got home.” 

Robin freezes on her way to her room and turns around with a frown on her face. 

“That sounds horrible.” 

“Well, I could wear something like a button down, slacks, and a tie like my coworker wears if that’s what you prefer,” Steve replies, laying back on the couch with a big smile, ignoring the look Robin is giving him. 

“I’d actually prefer you in noth-” Eddie starts but is quickly cut off on the other line by Chrissy which is unfortunately muffled by what Steve assumes to be a hand over the phone. When the muffled noises go away Eddie says, “Chrissy told me I’m not allowed to be my flirtatious self with you yet.” 

“Once again, they’re trying to keep us from each other. But Robin hasn’t banned me yet, so I can ask what are you wearing?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie says with what sounds like a proud smile. 

“Nothing?” Steve repeats and whistles low. “You and Chrissy are definitely too comfortable with each other.” 

Robin starts waving her hands at Steve to get his attention. He glances at her and she’s quick to mouth what the fuck? Steve laughs and says into the phone, “Hold on a second, I have to explain to Robin that we’re not actually having phone sex.” 

“Oh my gosh, Steve,” Robin says and puts her head in her hands. 

Eddie gasps loudly, “We’re not? What a shame. That would be a fun first phone call.” 

Steve smiles and quickly remembers that he actually needs to ask him something. “Not to change subjects, but I was wondering if your weekends are typically free. Dustin said he might come up in a few weeks, so I was hoping you could meet him then. If you still want to of course.” 

“I would love to. And yeah, usually my weekends are free,” Eddie pauses before saying, “Saying that out loud sounds so sad.” 

“Don’t worry, my weekends are usually free, too.” 

Eddie dramatically sighs, “What a relief. I was really afraid of not sounding cool especially since you were a former jock.” 

Steve laughs and can practically feel his day shifting from mediocre to good. 

“Well, Chrissy is about to kill me because I promised I just wanted to briefly say hi,” Eddie announces. 

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding a little too flustered for his liking. 

But then Eddie practically giggles when saying, “Hi,” which makes Steve feel better. 

Suddenly, Eddie is quickly saying, “Okay, Chrissy is taking the phone now. Bye!” 

Steve doesn’t have time to properly say goodbye before Chrissy is on the line. “Hi, Steve. Sorry if he bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” Steve insists. “Thank you for giving up some of your phone time to let us talk by the way. I’ll give you back to Robin now.” He tilts the phone away from his mouth and says to Robin, “Chrissy is back.” 

“Thank god. I think I would’ve died if I had to witness any more of that,” Robin says as she grabs the phone and says, “Hi sweetheart. We never should’ve introduced them to each other.” 

Steve just laughs and makes his way back to his room. He turns at the doorway and says, “Tell Chrissy I said goodnight.” 

Robin tilts the phone away from her mouth. “And Eddie?” 

“And Eddie,” Steve confirms with a smile. 

As he gets ready for bed, he’s hit with the thought that Eddie’s “sort of boyfriend” is probably waiting for Chrissy and Robin to get off the phone so he can call Eddie. Or maybe he called before. Steve tries not to let the thought make him too sick, but he definitely has to add it to the list of questions he wants to ask Eddie. He wonders how much the list will grow as time goes on. 

Part Three

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[cryptictongues]

Purrfect Medicine

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: G word count: 4.2k summary: You find a stray cat and Joshua doesn't know how to feel. warnings: This is straight up fluff!

Author’s Notes: Remember when I posted a poll a while back and this and that Clive smut won? Well, here is this one LOL sorry for the wait!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 Link]

The deadlands near the Northern Territories were dreary and dark, something that the realm has become far too familiar with in recent years. Its void of life has created an eerie stain on the map of Valisthea; a tell-tale sign to people that nothing good survives there with its lack of resources. Joshua knew this, yet you had somehow convinced him to set up camp for the night right in the heart of them.

It wasn’t something the both of you had planned for, being that he wanted to get to Prince Dion sooner rather than later. However, you had insisted on stopping for the night when he started to cough non-stop, wheezing more and more with each stretch of travel. He knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, the stubborn being that you are, and he wasn’t in any mood to argue. The last thing he remembers was you setting up the tent around him as he went in and out of consciousness, sleep taking over his brain until he was no longer present mentally. Now, as his mind starts to wake up, his first instinct is to locate your figure. He didn't sense any movement and the sounds of the deadlands were silent. Sitting up quickly, fast enough to make him dizzy, he pulls back the flap of the tent to see everything has been set up for the night, except you were nowhere to be seen. 

Joshua groans. He can’t believe you ran off alone again. After telling you numerous times to not leave his sight, you still don’t listen. While marching to the beat of your own drum is a trait he admires greatly, it drives him absolutely insane at the same time. It is times like these where he wishes his body didn’t fail him so greatly; to have the energy to take care of himself better. It would save him a lot of trouble for himself, but for you especially.

Joshua has known you since the two of you were kids. You were kept in the medicine houses, learning how to heal Rosarian soldiers as the time for war was upon them. He recalls being there a lot as a kid, being as sick as he was. He would always watch you as you watched one of the healers work on him, concentrating on what to do and use for certain ailments. He was charmed the moment he saw you, his chest fluttering in ways he didn’t quite understand at the time. 

Those were the only times he saw you. The two of you hadn’t spoken any words to each other unless needed for assessing, and that was that. It wasn’t until after the events of Phoenix Gate, where he remembers vague images of someone pulling him out of the rumble and loaded onto a carriage, where the girl who made his heart flare worked on him all the way until they went into hiding under the protection of the Undying. Long story short, being the only two children in isolation from the rest of the world made it very easy to become fast companions and the Undying declared you his guardian for his travel due to such a bond. Not that he would have accepted any other answer, for you knew him like the back of your hand. 

Which means he knew that you knew leaving with no warning would upset him, especially out in the deadlands.

Joshua walks out into the open, starting to pace back and forth unknowingly. You have done this before and have turned up just fine. But the what ifs, the what ifs that fill his mind with dread, make him uneasy with the same questions. Does he go searching for you? Does he stay put? What would you do if he left with no sign? It is the same cycle over and over again.

“If you keep pacing like that, this stop will have been for not.”

Joshua whips his head around to see you standing a few feet away, smiling at him like you weren’t just gone for who knows how long. He takes a long, good look at you, examining to make sure nothing is out of place. But you looked just as you did when he passed out; clean and unscathed. 

“I wouldn’t pace if you would just listen to me for once.” He grimaces. 

All you did was smile at him, eyes turning into crescents as you walked towards him. “I apologize, Your Grace. I was out finding some herbs for your well-being, but I am sure you can assume how that went.”

“Well, my darling, this is the deadlands. One can assume that means everything is dead.” He feels his lip wanting to curve into a smirk, but he represses it. He can’t let you keep getting away with this: scaring him and shifting his mood back the minute he sees you. He wants to say more, but the second he starts to move his lips, he hears a chirp come from your satchel. 

You laughed amusingly, from what Joshua can assume is his reaction to the noise. He watches you reach for the latch, opening it slowly. “If everything is dead, care to explain this?”

He watches the satchel move slightly, and then sees two black ears pop up. A moment later, he sees piercing green eyes, and not a moment too soon he sees a pink nose and whiskers. He is at a loss for words as he stares at a black cat. A bloody black cat.

“Isn’t he cute?” You exclaimed, removing the satchel from your body and setting it on the ground, revealing the cats full form. “I found him hurdled in a crevice off the outer cliff. I didn’t see any other cats, so I guess he is all alone.” 

Joshua looks at the cat closely. “How do you know it is a boy?”

You smirked at him. “I can show you if you want.” You go to pick the cat up and immediately it clicks what you were about to do.

“No need!” Joshua rushes out, his face heating up from the embarrassment of his outburst, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“You should see the look on your face!” You laughed, sitting down in the process and letting the cat crawl into your lap. “I was thinking of what we should name him. Lance short for Lancelot? Crow? Maybe something more common like Bernard?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide. “Don’t tell me we are keeping him.”

“Well, why not?” You shrugged. “He could be the best healer in the group, especially if I train him.”

“My love, he is a cat.” Joshua states the obvious. He doesn’t even know the first thing about taking care of a cat. Sure, he knew how to take care of a Chocobo and even a frost wolf, but a cat? That was out of his range. 

“Cats can be wonderful companions, if you let them.” You smiled, slowly cradling the black ball of fur in your arms as you stood up. You walked over to him, holding the cat up by your face to give the most puppiest of eyes. “Come on, Joshua. Can we please take him with us? I’ll take care of him just like I take care of you. Besides, just you wait! I will make him the best healer you’ve ever seen!”

Joshua doesn’t want to give in, but the more he looks at you, the more his willpower crumbles. He hates how easily he folds for you, and as he continues to stare at you and the cat, he knows he has lost this battle. With a long sigh, Joshua nods in defeat. “Fine, but please, for the love of Greagor Herself, don’t run off again by yourself.”

In an instant, he feels your plush lips kiss his cheek. He watches as you buzzed with excitement, holding the cat close to you. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Joshua! You will not regret this!” 

He is going to regret this.

-

It had been a week since Crow, the name you decided to give your furry friend, was found. Like you had promised, you’ve been very good at taking care of both him and Joshua. Joshua was impressed with your ability to multitask between two beings. However, what was starting to crawl over him like a green second skin was all the fault of the little feline.

Joshua admits that Crow is very well-behaved. He doesn’t run off anywhere he isn’t supposed to. He is relatively quiet, letting out a meow or a chirp if he is hungry or wants some attention. He doesn’t get upset being carried in the satchel you carry, quite the opposite really. Joshua has noticed that Crow is quite keen on keeping his head perched over the bag to watch the surroundings during travel. There is nothing to complain about, except for one major thing: how much he got your attention. 

The first night, you had been curled up into Joshua’s side, per usual, with Crow settled at your feet. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he noticed your warmth seemed further away and saw you lying flat on your back with Crow curled on top of your chest. Joshua remembers a glimmer of jealousy in his heart but set it aside quickly. It is just one night. This will not be common practice.

Until it did. It always started the same and ended the same. Joshua started to loathe the damn cat, and he felt silly for it. “It’s a bloody cat!” He thought. He should not feel such negative feelings towards it, but every time he pushes the jealousy out, it rolls back ten-fold.

Joshua is walking side by side with you, the two of you trailing the Crystal Road, getting closer to where the two of you need to be. Joshua is deep in thought, negative swirls of green dancing around his head, when he feels a small bump against his leg. He ignores it, thinking he got too close to your bag, when he feels it again.

He looks down to see Crow looking up at him, eyes wide and mouth curled. Joshua watches him bump his head against his leg, only to look back up at him with his big green eyes. 

Joshua is stumped. Is he hungry? Can he feel the negative energy enclosing in his brain? Can cats do that? 

“Um… dearest…” Joshua says softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful walk. 

“Hmm?”

“Crow wants something.”

Joshua and you stop in the middle of the road, and you spread the bag apart. “What’s up, little guy?” 

You scratched his head, and Crow started to purr. You chuckled, looking at Joshua who was standing there feeling lost. 

“You are so knowledgeable, yet so clueless.” You smirked. “He wants attention. He wants you to pet him.”

“Me?” Joshua asks, seriously questioning how that could be true. Crow hadn’t been craving his attention; it had been yours.

“He wants you to scratch his head. He loooooves that.” You drawled out. “Go on. Just like this.”

You scratched his head around his ears, demonstrating to Joshua how to proceed. He hesitantly lets his fingers run across the back of Crow’s head, just petting him at first to get a feel for how he will react. Crow pushes his head into Joshua’s fingers, which encourages him to start moving his fingers back and forth quickly. 

Joshua couldn’t believe his luck. Crow was purring at the attention he was getting, and it made Joshua grow bolder. He starts to scratch down under Crow’s neck, making him lift his neck further for more room. In a way, this felt very therapeutic to him. It’s as if the twangs of jealousy that filled his head left within seconds, putting a smile on his face.

He hears a small chuckle, and he looks up to see you smiling behind your hand. He perks up, still scratching Crow in the process. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems like the sun has decided to come back out.” You dropped your hand, letting it reach for his free one. “You seemed rather gloomy as of late. I’m just happy to see you smile genuinely."

“I apologize,” Joshua followed up with. “I have so much on my mind.” It wasn’t a lie, of course. He did have a lot on his mind, but he doesn’t have the courage to admit that the main thing getting to him was jealousy due to a damn cat.

“I know, but that’s why you have me. You know I’m always here for you.” You swayed, pulling him in a little closer.

Joshua hums and brings his hand to your face. With a gentle grasp, he pulls you in for a soft kiss, reminding himself that you are indeed here for him. He knows you wouldn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position if you didn’t feel strongly for him. 

The kiss is interrupted by another head bump, causing Joshua to pull away. He hears you laugh and next thing he knows the satchel strap is over his shoulder, the cat in the bag right by his right leg. 

“I’ll let you carry him for a while. He seems to want your affection.” You grin. He laughs softly and takes your right hand to press on the long, winding road with his right hand in the cat bag.

-

Joshua and you made camp, and for once he thought it best to stop for the night. It wouldn’t be long before the two, well three of you, reach the Crystal Belt, so some time to gather himself in preparation for his meeting with Dion sounded best. 

Joshua was settling into the tent, waiting for you to come join him. He had started to help clean for an early start tomorrow, but you insisted he go ahead. While he usually would insist right back to keep his gentleman roots intact, he could feel the long day weighing on his eyelids and chose to let your stubbornness flourish for the night. 

His eyes were starting to flutter shut, until he heard the soft patter of paws near him. He opens his eyes to see Crow staring at him, or at least what he can see of him. His black coat completely camouflages him into the shadows of the night, but his green eyes glimmer in the dark.

Joshua sits up on his elbows, hesitant to move. He watches Crow observe him, the cat's head tilting by the way the eyes become diagonal from one another. Petting Crow in a bag, where he is secure, is one thing. To engage with him where he can make any move he wishes is another. While Crow has been friendly, it has been when you were around. This is the first time he has been alone with the feline, and he doesn’t know how to act. 

Crow had gotten noticeably closer and was now at the crevice of Joshua’s left arm. He stiffed when he felt Crow sniffing him, goosebumps rolling over his body in anticipation. Great Greagor, he is going to jump me. However, not only did that not happen, but the next thing Joshua sees is Crow let out a yawn, stretching his whole body in the process, before falling on his side with his head laying in between Joshua’s elbow. Small breaths can be heard as Crow starts to relax further, causing Joshua to relax with him. He lays back down, getting more on his side so he is in a comfortable position that allows room for Crow to stay undisturbed from his slumber. Carefully, he pulls Crow closer to him, making him snuggle more into his arm. 

“This isn’t so bad.” Joshua thinks, a small smile forming on his lips. His mom never allowed Torgal to sleep with him as a child, her excuse being the wolf dander would deplete his immune system more than it already was. To have an animal so close to him is comforting. It makes him feel oddly safe, even when he feels safe in your company. 

He hears the tent flaps open, and the moonlight shines into the tent. He sees your expression as you look at him and Crow, and his heart melts at how your eyes lit up. He watches you tie the flap so it is slightly ajar, and then watches you crawl in. You sit criss-crossed beside him, very obviously admiring the scene occurring. 

“Well, isn’t this a sweet surprise?” You said smugly, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Joshua lightly laughs. “I guess I can understand why you would want to sleep with him and not me.”

“Awe, was My Lord jealous of the little pussy cat?” You pouted jokingly, and all Joshua can do is groan. He knows it is silly, but he can’t deny it.

“I won’t deny my feelings, though rather immature.” He huffs lightly, looking down at the sleeping ball of fur. He moves his hand to stroke the black fur of Crow’s side, his mood lighting up even further. “This is strangely healing, however. I don’t blame you.”

“Well, you can now have a turn with him. He is a great sleepmate.” You moved to set up a side for yourself, but Joshua carefully reached for your arm causing you to turn to him quizzically. 

“I have a proposition, being that you join us instead of sleeping alone tonight.”

The warmth in your eyes at his statement makes his heart leap, knowing your answer before it slips your lips. He watches you undress to the undergarments that lie beneath your outer clothes, and lifts the covers when you go to lie beside him. He intertwined his legs with yours, both of your bodies getting as close as possible without crushing Crow. His forehead touches yours, inhaling with an ease he hadn’t felt in a while.

“What is it?” You asked, concern in your tone.

“Nothing,” Joshua mumbles, his left arm cradling Crow to his chest and his right hand settling on your waist. “This is just nice.”

You both fall asleep to the soft hum of Crow’s breathing.

-

Joshua’s perception of Crow has changed gradually as you all traveled. When he feels his mood sour, it’s like Crow knows and works to get his attention, and suddenly Joshua feels 100 times better. Crow was therapeutic, in a way, so traveling with him wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. If he was being honest with himself, he felt rather happy when Crow begged for his attention. 

There had been a change of plans in the journey to Prince Dion’s camp. On the belt of the Crystal Road, Joshua had started to feel worse for wear. His coughing had grown rougher and more painful, more blood coming out of his lungs. His chest wound was growing bigger by the day. He knows he is running out of time, so he had insisted that the journey must continue. Once again, however, you did not listen. Which is why he is now laying in a bed at the Dalimil Inn. 

“We really need to get a move on, dearest. We need to get to Dion.” He tries to sound healthy, but even he isn’t dumb enough to think he sounds convincing. He starts to move, wanting to sit up, before another round of coughing rushes out of his lungs.

“Yeah, and you struggling to stay up right is going to help us get there faster.” You snarked, still light hearted nonetheless.

Joshua wishes to retort, but he doesn’t have it in him. He falls back with a groan, his brain pounding and chest tight. He knew keeping Ultima locked away would be hard, but the agony that comes with it is more than he could have realized. Being naturally ill doesn’t provide any immunity to pain, and Joshua was learning the hard way.

You come into his vision, and like the angel you were, you pull the covers over him. Tucking him in like you were his baby, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, which Joshua relished in. He won’t admit it to you, but he has always loved being taken care of. 

“I’m going to run out to the market and find some minerals and herbs for your medicine. I’ll also get you some food as you should eat something.” You twirled a piece of his hair, only to drop it to brush your fingertips against the baby hairs that meet his forehead. “Crow will be here to keep watch.”

Joshua turns his head slightly to see Crow sleeping in the desk chair beside the bed, curled up into the seat. He knew he had to be tired, and a weird sense of envy seeped into Joshua’s bones. He wishes he could sleep with such ease. 

Fingertips graze his chin, rotating it until he meets your eyes again. The way you are looking at him makes his chest feel lighter, even with the chaos and muck that stirs within. Your skin on his soothes him, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch. His eyes flutter shut, and he hears you hum softly. “Try to get some rest. I shall return to you soon.” 

Light pressure sets against his lips, lasting for a few seconds, before releasing. He listens to your steps, and continues to listen after the door shuts. The faintness of your steps disappear, but Joshua still hears them in his mind. The soft pitter-patter of your light feet tap away, and slowly pulls him into a deep sleep.

-

Even in the few moments before Joshua’s slumber ends, he can sense a difference within himself. He feels as if his chest is heavier than before, but not as it was before. The angry flourishes of pain have settled to a dull ache, something he isn’t accustomed to these days. There is a peacefulness that has taken homage, and it is the most calm he has felt in the last few days. The heaviness on his chest is comforting. It felt like the times he would wake up with your head on his chest, with deep breathing that vibrated his being. 

In the early stages of being awake, he reaches for his chest expecting to feel your hair against his skin. His fingers brush against what he believes to be hair, until his brain reminds him that it isn’t coarse and surely doesn’t rise and fall. His eyes snap open, sleepy delirium resolved as he comes face to face with black fur. The light in the room had dimmed slightly, meaning it had been approximately two hours since his slumber. Sometime during the duration, Crow had taken it upon himself to rest on Joshua’s chest.

Crow was purring insistently loud, his eyes crescented as he rests with his body curled. Joshua couldn’t explain it, but the vibrations soothed the violent thumping that would make him stumble with each step. His whole body felt as if he had found an oasis; like he had discovered something that quenched his relief. Or more so, Crow had discovered how to help him. 

Joshua scratched Crow’s head, getting behind the ears, making the black feline purr louder and lean into his hand. He could feel a lump in his throat, for somehow, a cat had come to his aid. A cat took one look at him and knew how to help him. Who knew such a remedy would treat him so diligently and work so well. He presumes Greagor knew what She was doing when you had come across the ball of fur; a healer with a healer cat. 

Joshua was so immersed with Crow’s abilities, that the sound of the door opening and closing hadn’t caught his attention. It isn’t until he feels movement at the end of the bed that his head shoots up to see you with the biggest grin on your face.

“What did I tell you?”

“Regarding?” Joshua asks, confused as to why you are looking at him with such glee.

“I told you I’d make him a great healer!” You cheered enthusiastically. “Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as comfortable as you do right now.”

“You’ve trained him well.” He continues to pet Crow, moving his fingers down to scratch under his neck. “However, I do believe you said he’d be the best healer I’d ever seen. I’ll admit I stand corrected, for he may even be a better healer than you.” He jests, knowing it’ll rile you up.

You gawked at him, “If he wasn’t lying on your chest right now, I’d make you take that back.”

“You can remove him if you’d like. I’d like to see what you’d do.” He draws out lewdly, loving how you are reacting to his quips. 

“Whatever, you perv.” You laughed, moving to crawl beside him. You had gently wrapped an arm across him, right behind where Crow lays. Your head is now beside his and he can’t help himself as he leans in to kiss you. The two of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the moment before the three of you prepare to experience the rough world out there. 

Him, his lady, and their cat.

[sometimesibewriting]

Frustration

🍆18+ smut fic MINORS DO NOT INTERACT  🍆

✨Summary: You and Uryu are searching for something in his family's library but he can't find it. After seeing how upset he is you let him take it out on you.

🍆 Everyone is 18+ in this one shot.

📃Wordcount: 1,479

❌Warnings: Unprotective, rough smex

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55890400

💙I tried to play with Uryu's personality here. I wanted to write him a little rougher here but still have his personality stay close to his canon one. That being said if he seems a little too OOC apologizes. I have so many smut fic ideas for him, but smut takes a while for me to write and edit. So there will be more in the future there just gonna take me a while to get out. （；´д｀）ゞ

"Is this not breaking and entering?" You asked as you turned another corner. "I used to live here remember," Uryu answered sternly. "You don't anymore, besides your dad-" 

"What about that man?" His voice icy. "Never mind." Your body tensed, this side of Uryu was weird to you as he was usually calm and collected. He wasn’t one to let his emotions spill out like that. But right now that wasn't the Uryu before you as the both of you walked the halls he used to live in.

He stopped in front of two heavy wooden doors and tried to push them open but they didn't budge. He sucked his teeth, pulled out his sewing kit, and began working on the lock. Uryu said his dad was at work yet you still kept a lookout, it distracted you from what the both of you were doing.

A click was heard a few minutes later he pushed the door, it opening this time. "Pretentious. He put a lock on the door because of last time." He spoke to himself. 

"Because of you finding the book." Uryu pushed up his glasses shaking his head yes. He walked in and then down the stairs as you stood there staring in awe. The place was big but something about it having a library with shelves and shelves had you floored. What even were all these books about? Did his father read them, did Uryu read any of them when he was little?

You walked down looking all around you. "This is kind of crazy." 

"He's crazy." Uryu spat as he hit the last step you followed him towards the back of the library, "So what are we looking for again?" You asked. 

"Documentation." He began pulling out books flipping through them. "Why would he hide it here? Wouldn't he have that stuff in a lock box in his office or room?"

"Ryuken knows that's the first place I would look, also given that he locked the door I would say I'm right on the money." Both of you began to flip through books you taking one side while Uryu took the other, his suggestion to make things go faster.

You didn't know how long you both spent there but you could slowly feel yourself losing your mind as you looked ahead at all the bookcases. Looking down at the watch you could see there was a lot of time left but still. You heard the sound of a book hitting the floor and walked to the source of the sound.

"Shit," Uryu shouted in frustration leaning against one of the bookshelves, the back of his head hitting the self. You walked over gently putting each hand on the side of his face not sure of what to say. That was when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug.

His face went into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his neck he wasn't crying. It wasn't the best idea but Uryu started kissing your neck. You weren't taken back by this action and just let it happen it wasn't like this was your first time with him anyway.

Uryu worked his way up from your neck to your cheek only stopping a few inches from your face, looking at you for approval, you looked back in a way that gave him that approval. He kissed your lips softly, before deaping the kiss and pushing off the bookcase he was leaning pinning you against the opposite shelf. His hands going all over your body. Stopping at your chest to play with it through your clothes.

He moved his knee to separate your legs apart. His lips moved off of yours so you could both get air, you began rubbing your lower half against his knee glad that you wore a skirt today. Without missing a beat you took off your shirt causing him to go back in for another kiss.

This time you ceased your grinding putting your hand inbetween his legs rubbing him nice and slowly. Uryu rutted his crotch against your hand to get friction, you could feel him getting hard under your touch. His lips parted from you once more, "Can you turn around." It was said in more of a now tone than a question. But his harsher tone didn't bother you, it was kind of hot to see this side come from.

You did what he said turning your back towards him, facing the other bookshelf in front of you he pulled down your panties rather quickly. The air hitting your bare crotch. The situation the both of you were in made the sensation almost feel new. Uryu’s hand went to the clasp of the bar undoing it with ease.

He began to rub between your legs, you spread them further apart as a way to tell him you wanted more. Uryu put one finger in moving it in and out. After a while he added a second then a third, he was going nice in slow which was the norm, he enjoyed riling you up. Between the fingers and the situation, you were slowly becoming undone. Without warning he sped up his pace causing you to hold onto the bookshelf.

Uryu leaned over and said into your ear. "Remember what I said, my dad isn't going be back till one in the morning it's mid-afternoon. You can scream all you want, in fact I would like it if you would.." His tone was icy, it sounded as if he was taunting an enemy that was getting on his nerves. He pulled back and then harshly shoved back in all three of his fingers. Causing you to yelp it echoing off the empty library walls.

"Ishida." You whined.

He grabbed your chin with his free hand roughly making you look at him. "Call me by my first name I don't want to hear my last name right now." You shook your head as he pulled his fingers out of you, wondering if that was him punishing you for doing something wrong. Uryu took the bottom of your skirt lifting it over your butt. He then began to roughly rub his clouted crotch against it rough. "Fuck." He said through labored breathing holding onto the same bookcase trying to steady himself. 

Uryu pulled away, you didn't dare look at him all you could make out was the sound of him undoing his pants. It didn't take long for you to feel his bare hard-on on your buttocks wet with pre-cum. He rubbed himself against you but slowly sighing in relief.

He leaned over again kissing you softly, "Uryu." You said softly as he kissed your lips. "You always taste good to me." He deepend the kiss slipping into you with no problem. "Uryu...fuck." You managed to get out as he sunk deeper into you. He held you as he stayed leaning over you giving you time to adjust. Uryu then pulled back his hips causing you to gasp, he brought them back forward. The sound of both your bodies connecting. 

Once he got a rhythm he sped up, causing you to rock into the shelf. After a few thrusts, his hands came forward rolling your breasts together. His hands then traveled down to play with both your nipples at the same time. Your back arched, the way he always did you made you feel good. But what you were feeling now was way different than the other times you've done it together. It pushed you over the edge and you came the orgasm washing over you.

Uryu pulled out of you but wasn’t finished yet, he turned you around facing him. "Would you let me finish?" He asked breathing heavily. "Of course." You spread your legs once more, he slipped in again. He held your leg against his hip as he began trusting again this time harsher with no regard for your being. 

Your arms found their way to his shoulders holding on for dear life. His trust pushes you into the bookshelf, knocking off some of the books. He pulled out almost far enough to be out of you and then slammed back in. That was when he released into you. He held you both your panting slowing down. Uryu's face softened as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay you were just frustrated." 

"Still I shouldn't have taken it out on you...like that." His voice full of regret. You took a piece of misplaced hair and put it behind his ear. "I didn't mind but I do think it shouldn't be a regular thing, let's clean up and talk about this later. Okay?" You placed a kiss on his lips as he shook his head in agreement.

[ayellowdaylily]

By The Tree - Armin x Reader

» pairing: canon!Armin x gn!Reader

» summary: On a peaceful evening, Armin joined your spot by the tree, confessing something you would’ve never expected.

» word count: 1.4k

» notes/warnings: fluff fluff and fluff, confessions, armin is a cutie patootie, gender of reader isn't mentioned

» a/n: I love armin so so so so so so so much plus he’s so adorable with long hair in mappa’s artsyle ��ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

» song recommendations: Everyone Adores You (at least I do) by Matt Maltese

» Ao3 link

There you sat, book in your lap, by the tree, a soft breeze ruffling the pages when you tried to turn one. It was the spot where you usually found peace, putting aside your duties as a scout to feel relatively free. It was a nice feeling. The sound of nature surrounded you, the soft songs of birds and the distant chirps of crickets filled your ears as your eyes followed the words on the pages. Somehow, you’d manage to escape the cruel reality of the world when you’d sit here.

“(Y/N)!” A voice yelled with the crackle of leaves following. You looked up from your book and felt your heart lift at the sight of Armin making his way up the small hill to join you.

“I always look for you, yet I always find you here.” He said with a gentle smile displayed on his lips. His blond hair swayed with the wind as he strode towards you, strands covering his face while closing in the distance.

“Hi Armin,” You cheerfully replied, patting the soft patch of grass beside you. Taking your offer, the blond sat down next to you, letting his back rest against the tree while his blue eyes wandered to the now-closed book on your lap.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, it’s the book you gave me for my birthday, about the world outside the walls.” You replied, tucking the book under your legs. Lifting your head, you met Armin’s gaze. Was he… blushing? It must be the sun, you thought. After a moment of silence and holding an awkward stare, Armin cleared his throat, breaking the endearing tension.

“Uh, do you like it so far?” He responded quietly, looking a bit nervous.

“I really do ‘Min! These stories… they’re so fascinating, I wish you would’ve talked to me about them sooner, or given me this sooner-” You stopped mid-sentence as you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Really?” Armin responded quickly, his heart racing with exhilaration. He saw how your eyes were sparkling as you spoke, noticing how you were just as fascinated by the subject as he was. It was refreshing to him.

“Yeah! What was that thing called again,” Reaching under your legs, you opened the book swiftly, searching for the elusive name you wanted. But Armin, he simply watched you, grinning from ear to ear, not uttering a word as you rambled excitedly.

“There it is, the sea! The way the book describes it- We have to see it ‘Min. And the…” 

The rest of your words were a blur for Armin as he watched you. From your wide, infectious smile, to the way your hands flew in the air animatedly while you spoke. He watched you as if his eyes were magnetized; your hair blew softly in the wind, your eyes glimmered as you spoke, and he noticed every detail. Armin felt so warm and fluttery every time he saw you, even worse when he was in your presence. He thought he’d melt to the ground like ice. You make him so… euphoric. He never wants that feeling to disappear, especially if he-

“‘Min? Armin? Helloooo-” A voice said, pulling him out of his daydream with a hand waving softly in front of his eyes. His eyes widened as you had caught him in a trance, a light pink spreading to his cheeks and nose while he averted his gaze to the scenery ahead.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Am I that boring?” you laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder. Armin joined in your laughter, as yours was addicting. 

“You could never be boring to me... just… hearing your voice is enough to make my day,” Armin replied in a hushed tone, before turning his head to face you, eager to catch your reaction. Slowly, a bright smile crept onto your lips.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you only gazed into each other’s eyes, both wearing the same cheesy grin and light blush on your cheeks. The light, refreshing breeze returned, carrying the scent of the nearby flowers and ruffling the leaves of the tree above you. The birds' chirping slowly faded as you observed Armin, getting lost in the familiar feeling of his blue eyes. You looked down in embarrassment, your hands playing with the blades of grass at your feet, trying to hide that you were staring at him.

“(Y/N)?” Armin said, drawing a breath before he continued. “This may be random but, do you believe in love at first sight?” It was something that had been wandering in his mind for a while. Right now, it might be his only chance to ask.

“I do” was all you told him.

“That’s, uhm, good to know… do you have anyone in mind?” Armin asked, his hopes were high, hoping you’d say it was- He shouldn’t assume that… Your hand stopped from exploring the soft blades of grass while you thought about your answer. Should you tell the truth?

"Yeah, I do," you muttered softly, not wanting to elaborate. With a curious look, Armin observed your reddening face.

“Can I ask who it is?” He responded softly. You began to stammer, not knowing how or even if you should say it. 

“He probably doesn’t feel the same, it would be useless to say.” You muttered under your breath, keeping your gaze on the green sitting under you. 

“You never know, and even if he doesn’t feel the same, he’d be a fool who doesn’t deserve you,” Armin admitted. His thought was genuine, kind even. 

“You really think that?” You asked him, tilting your head to rest on your knees, staring at Armin as he spoke.

“Absolutely. You’re so… amazing, kind, beautiful. Anyone who doesn’t see that is blind.” You were taken aback by his answer; the compliments sent your mind into a spiral. He was saying that? About you?

The tree rustled behind you as the blond awaited your words, worried he might have said too much. He gazed at you; you didn’t seem afraid, but rather sheepish. Your eyes were irradiated by the sun, making you wince as you wrapped your arms around your knees, tucking them close to your body. You seemed deep in thought, Armin thought to himself.

“Do you believe in love at first sight ‘Min?” You asked, cutting the slight tension in the air.

“I do.” He paused, before continuing, “I’ve felt it for a while now, with… with someone.”

“Oh.” Your hopes fell from their high horse. Why did you feel so disappointed to know that Armin loved someone?

“Would you be shocked if I said I had never believed in love at first sight until I met… the person right beside me…?” 

He did it. He finally confessed.

“Who- wait, me?” You replied with shock. What did he mean by the person right beside me? It couldn’t be you, you were- No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah. It's you, it's always been you.” He whispered, taking his time to look at you, from the way your eyes opened wide to the significant shock on your face, yet, you still looked beautiful.

“I guess…” You hesitated, “I could say the same.”

“Wait, you… you feel the same?” Armin’s blue eyes widened at your confession, his mind easing the scramble of possible answers you could’ve given him, not even thinking about if you ever felt the same.

“Yeah-” You were quickly cut off by Armin.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” His question poked your brain, why hadn’t you?

“I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same.” You confessed, but truly you had never thought about acting on your feelings; you were in the military for the walls' sake, but it felt comforting to let it out.

You both gazed into each other's eyes once more, the sound of nature enveloping you while the sunlight enhanced your reddened faces.

“We’re a bunch of idiots, aren’t we? All this time, thinking our feelings are unrequited when we… we loved each other.” He whispered as his hand lifted to tuck your loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

A sudden surge of happiness coursed through your body; you grinned from ear to ear, never wanting this to end as you let your head fall onto his shoulder. While the sun started to disappear from afar, the soft orange glow illuminated Armin’s face as he replicated the smile plastered on your face, his soft blue eyes glowing with endearment as he looked at you, the person he’d loved for over two years, now finally at his side. The birds' chirping died down as a curtain of darkness fell upon the scene, the soft glimmer of stars enveloping the two of you in a new chapter of your lives together.

[a-honeybees-forest]

Mansions and Magic Don’t Mix

Part 1 of 2

Ao3 Link Word Count: 2.6k Character(s): Joel, Xisuma Summary: Joel and Xisuma go on a mission raiding a woodland mansion together, though it doesn’t exactly go the way they expect, in probably the worst way possible.

Check tags for more information

It was just an invitation.

A friendly invitation, extended from the server Admin to a new member. A possibility to get to know each other a little more - an adventure, one that should’ve been simple.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Xisuma was already waiting by the time Joel got there, leaning against the wall next to the doorway. The doorway was blocked off with cobblestone, which must’ve been Xisuma’s doing.

“Hey Smallbeans,” Xisuma greeted, giving him a subtle nod as he pushed himself off the wall.

“Hey Xisuma,” Joel returned, deciding not to comment on the name. “Is there anything special we’re here for?”

“Not really, I’ve just been planning to raid this for a while now, a few of the Hermits directed me to you to help,” Xisuma answered, pulling his pickaxe from the belt around his waist. He waited as Joel pulled his sword from its sheath and pulled his shield into its proper place on his left arm. “Ready?” He asked when Joel had finished, causing his companion to look up at him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Joel muttered, following Xisuma’s movements as he walked up to the blocked-off door and swung at the blocks, carving a hole just big enough for them both to enter with just a few swings.

Joel moved ahead of Xisuma as he placed the pickaxe back in its place, and he scooped up the two small blocks off the ground, slipping them into the pouch on the belt around his waist. He pulled his sword from its sheath and moved into the mansion after Joel.

The front hallway was empty, and as Joel pulled a match from his pack and lit an already partially burned torch on the wall after a few tries. Xisuma got the idea and grabbed the burned-out torch on the other side of the doorway before he walked over to Joel, lighting the wood on his already-burning one.

“How long were you standing there, again?” Joel asked as he turned away, holding his torch out in front of him and casting the flickering light out into the hallway that was stretching away from them.

“Probably about five to ten minutes, why?” Xisuma replied, turning in the other direction to search for anything that might move.

“And they didn’t find their way over here in that time?” Joel mused, mostly to himself, “Well, then again, they wouldn’t be able to see you. Which way are we going?”

“I’d say left,” Xisuma replied, and Joel started off the way he was facing, keeping his torch pointed in front of him. He could hear Xisuma’s footsteps starting and stopping behind him, and when he looked back, he saw a couple of lit torches set down on the ground. Xisuma was already pulling another piece of wood with coal dusted on the end out of the small bag at his waist.

“What?” Xisuma asked when he noticed Joel’s glance. Joel sighed slightly as he turned around.

“Nevermind. Let’s keep going, they’ll be in here,” Joel said as he gestured into the first room. Xisuma nodded, pressing the torches together as he adjusted his grip on his sword, moving forward into the room.

He had to duck as a vindicator charged at him just as he entered the room, its axe swinging wildly. Joel stabbed it through as it ran towards him, pulling it out again quickly before repeating the motion a few more times until the creature collapsed to the ground. It would lay there for a few moments before vaporizing into code, but neither of them had time to sit and watch it. Xisuma slashed at another vindicator as it came after him, taking a few steps back from the force of its blows.

Joel charged at the only remaining mob in the room before it could attack him, embedding his sword in the handle of its axe for a brief, heart-stopping moment. His eyes widened as the vindicator tried to swing at him anyway. He was forced to let go of his sword and dive out of the way as it almost sent the axe-blade clean through his head.

Joel was just scrambling up when he saw a sword-tip come through the front of the vindicator’s clothing. It froze for a moment, then its limbs dropped heavily, the axe head embedding itself in the wooden floor, before the mob fizzled away into nothing.

Xisuma and Joel locked eyes for a long moment, Joel taking slightly shaky breaths, both of them listening to the utter silence that fell over the room.

Joel stepped forward and grabbed the hilt of his sword, trying to pull it out of the handle of the axe. However, it took him a moment - and a few pulls of the sword - to get it loose.

“What in the hell is the material they use for those things,” Joel muttered to himself as he glanced over the blade quickly, before he turned his attention back to Xisuma, who had just placed a torch down on the floor.

“Good question,” Xisuma replied, running a gloved hand down the axe’s handle before he stepped around Joel, heading back out into the large, dark hallway. “Let’s go, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Joel let a soft huff escape his lips as he started after Xisuma, watching as his companion set another torch on the floor of the hallway in an attempt to light up the mansion. Xisuma was right - they had a long way to go.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Luckily, most of the other rooms were like the first. A few mobs, maybe a creeper, skeleton, spider or zombie in a few rooms - okay, more than a few, but they were vastly easier to deal with than the vindicators. They had cleared out the entire bottom floor and most of the second. The second floor was marginally easier than the ground floor, mostly because of dim rays of sunlight filtering through the windows, keeping the other mobs from forming so they weren’t entirely overwhelmed.

“Joel, lookout!” Xisuma called from behind Joel, and he dived to the side just as jaws snapped up from the floor, right where he was standing moments before.

“Ugh, I’m really starting to hate this guy,” Joel grumbled, pushing himself up and continuing his circling around the evoker, eying it warily.

“Yeah, I- vexes!” Xisuma yelled in warning, taking a swipe at the one that emerged from the wall with his sword.

“God, I hate these things. Can’t they just give us a break?” Joel complained, jabbing at another vex himself, hissing in pain as he missed and it scraped its claws along his arm. He shivered as he heard almost what sounded like nails on a chalkboard - or nails on metal, he supposed. Either way, it was a loud, screeching sound, one he assumed was the sound of Xisuma’s armor being assaulted.

Joel would’ve turned to help, if it hadn’t been for the vex that now seemed like it was targeting him. For every one hit he got on it, it got at least two on him, leaving long scratches everywhere it touched him. Joel was gasping, his lungs burning when he eventually got the final hit on it, and his entire body ached and stung.

“Hey, Smallbeans-” Joel heard Xisuma start, but he was cut off halfway through, and Joel spun around towards the sound of his voice, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the scene in front of him. Xisuma’s leg was caught in the teeth of one of the jaws reaching up from the floor, and he seemed to sway on his feet.

“Blummin’ hell, X?!” Joel exclaimed, dashing over to him and grabbing for his arm, but he missed as Xisuma vanished. “X?!” Joel yelled, glancing around frantically as panic started to set in. What the hell? How had he managed to lose the Admin?!

Joel hesitated just before he was about to step forward, and he glanced down at the small figure on the ground. He leaned down to grab a mini-sized version of the person who had just been standing in front of him.

“X? How did you-?” Joel muttered, glancing back at the evoker in the corner of the room as he spoke and he faltered. “Okay, nevermind. Well, didn’t know they could do that, but that’s for later.”

Joel closed his hand around Xisuma as he turned, coming face-to-face with a group of vindicators.

“Should we go now? Yeah, we should go,” Joel said nervously, mostly to himself, and he took a slow step back. His eyes widened as he heard the telltale sound of snapping, and he wasn’t able to move his foot away before it was captured in a large jaw.

However, that wasn’t what he was the most worried about at the moment.

The vindicators charged at Joel all at once, and he had to shift Xisuma to his non-dominant hand so he could both clumsily swing at the vindicators and use his shield to take the heavy blows coming from his other side. His leg was quickly released as the jaw retreated into the floor, and Joel backed up quickly, pressed backwards by the relentless attacks.

He pressed himself into the corner, holding the limp Xisuma gingerly in his hand as he held his shield up in front of him, occasionally stabbing at the vindicators with his sword. Joel could hear his shield starting to crack, and his eyes widened. The moment his shield broke, he was essentially virtually defenseless. At least, he couldn’t protect Xisuma anymore, not properly.

“Sorry,” Joel apologized, just in case Xisuma was still awake. He moved Xisuma to his other hand so that he could raise him into his mouth and slip him inside. The first thing that he noted was that Xisuma’s armor was cool and rough, and Joel readjusted his grip on his sword as he shifted Xisuma around in his mouth, trying his best to coat him in his saliva. He mentally apologized to Xisuma again, tipping his head back slightly as he swallowed him. It was a bit earlier than he would’ve liked, but the cracking of his shield was freaking him out.

Xisuma was like a little weight that settled into his stomach - he was surprisingly heavy, though it might’ve been his armor. Whatever it might’ve been, it was at the back of Joel’s mind as he jabbed at one of the mobs crowding him again, and he grinned when it toppled to the ground. Joel didn’t waste a second, slipping out of the temporary gap in the barricade of bodies and narrowly dodging a blow to his head. He swiped at the nearest vindicator, leaving a deep gash in its leg. It growled in anger, bringing its axe down on his shoulder, and Joel let out a pained yell.

He didn’t look down at his arm, not wanting to see the split-open flesh, but his arm hung down uselessly at his side, the tip of his shield scraping across the floor.

“Shit,” Joel muttered, jabbing clumsily at the vindicator, and spearing it right through its axe-wielding arm. It howled, but the sound abruptly ceased as Joel swiped at it again, slitting its throat messily. Joel turned immediately, dropping his shield as he started running. He could hear the angry noises of the mobs behind him as he ran, but he paid them no mind, he was faster than them. He didn’t bother to sheath his sword, just holding the blade away from him as he turned sharply, dashing down the stairs. He barely avoided crashing into the wall on the landing, but, despite that, he didn’t waste any time in throwing himself down the rest of the stairs and out the hole in the wall of cobblestone covering the doorway.

Joel didn’t stop running until he made it to the Nether portal, hidden in the trees a few dozen metres from the mansion. He let out a soft gasp as he sank to the ground with his back pressed against the obsidian frame. He let his sword lay on the ground by his side as he gingerly pulled his injured arm into his lap, hissing as the open wound was pulled at. It hurt to move his neck, which he discovered painfully when he tried to get a look at the wound on his shoulder. He hadn’t brought any healing potions, and there was no way he could bandage it up properly.

Joel groaned, tapping on the black screen fixed onto his wrist, only to frown when it didn’t turn on. When he looked closer, he noticed that there was a long scratch etched into the surface of the screen.

“Stupid vex,” he hissed, clenching his hand into a fist for a minute before he sighed, letting the tension out of his shoulders, which caused him to hiss in pain again. Damnnit, he had to get to the medbay under his own power. Sure, he managed to get outside, but the adrenaline had worn off now, and every part of his body ached. He didn’t think he could get up again.

Joel hesitated when he felt the slightest movement from inside him, and he glanced down at his stomach, carefully moving his good arm to cover it. He had forgotten about Xisuma in the panic of trying to get out, but now he was painfully aware of the small figure resting inside him. What had even happened to him? Why did he shrink, why did he collapse?

The questions were bouncing around in Joel’s head, but he didn’t dare say any of them out loud, worried that he might startle Xisuma. Did he know what had happened? Or was he completely passed out by the time Joel had eaten him?

Joel was silent as he felt more shifting, and he bit his lip. Xisuma was clearly waking up. What the hell would he say?

He felt what might’ve been a hand press against the inside of his stomach, and, a moment later, he heard a questioning word, “Beans?” The voice was weak and sounded raspy, but otherwise sounded okay.

“Xisuma?” Joel returned, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Hey… what happened…” came the soft reply, and Joel hesitated for a moment before replying.

“You kind of, shrunk? And collapsed? Then I was surrounded, and I couldn’t-” Joel tried to explain, but he was cut off after a moment.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Are you alright? Get away… okay?”

“I’m fine,” Joel lied, “just scratched up. My comm broke, though. What about you?”

“Dizzy,” Xisuma replied softly, “and everything feels a little fuzzy. I think I’m lightheaded.”

“I don’t know what that evoker did to you,” Joel muttered, half to himself, “we should get you medical attention.”

“Yeah…” Xisuma answered, but his response was more faint than last time.

“Xisuma?” Joel asked.

“Tired. Think I’m gonna… close my eyes for a bit,” Xisuma murmured, his voice dropping in volume the more he spoke. Joel was relieved when he heard Xisuma was going back to sleep. At least he didn’t have to explain why he couldn’t let Xisuma out. He pushed himself up slowly, painfully, using the obsidian behind him for support.

Get to spawn, he repeated in his head as he stepped into the swirling purple portal. He closed his eyes as the spiraling magic took up his vision and the world started twisting around him.

This was making him so nauseous.

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Season's greetings! This is my Clone XReader Life Day Exchange gift for @orbitalmirror for the @cloneficgiftexchange run by @ghostofskywalker!!! ❤️💚❤️

Prompts: “So for this Life Day thing, what do people do?” || “I’m not exactly inclined to trust clones.”

Words: 4625

Warnings: None except flirtation and some innocent kisses

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61331332

A/N: I've only written Echo as a supporting character so I hope I did him justice and hope you, @orbitalmirror, enjoy the fic! (Sorry it's a little angsty at first!) ❤️💚❤️ Shout out to @eclec-tech for the impromptu brainstorming session in which she allowed me to use her refugee/Pabu twist on my Wookiee Life Day celebration premise. And thank you to @cloneficgiftexchange for running it!

A Wonderful Life Day 🎄 (Echo X Reader)

Ever since the clone troopers' hideout on Teth was compromised by a CX assassin, Echo and his renegade clone brothers had been on the run from the Empire and trying to find a new base of operations.  

The research facility on Tantiss and its head scientist were no longer a threat, but that didn't mean the Empire wouldn't be. Echo, Rex, Gregor, Howzer, and the other surviving clones that joined their band of brothers still had a lot of work to do. There were more clone troopers out there who needed their help and no time to stop and smell the roses.

Not only were clones in need of help, but many regular folks.  While Rex searched for a new base location, Echo continued to run missions on his ship, Remora. When picking up two clones who were deserting the Empire, he got more than he bargained for when the they insisted on bringing along a Wookiee family of seven members, a Twi'lek female, and two humans, one male, and one female: you.

You had been very iffy about taking refuge with the two clone troopers whom you had only met several weeks ago.   A Wookiee family had already taken refuge with you in your home after the crime of blowing up an Imperial credit exchange was pinned on them. You figured it to be an inside job so the true culprits could line their pockets and so the Empire could get some of the non-humans 'off world.'  

You were friends and worked with the matriarch of the family, Verbecca. Since you had grown a bond with the Wookiees and saw first hand what the Empire was up to, you felt the need to leave, too. You didn't mind leaving. The farther away you could get from the Empire, the better.  You didn't just want, but needed to see Verbecca and her family to safety.

You were not so sure the clones, Kent and Leviathan, or Levi for short, or their contact were trustworthy, however. They were as guarded as you when you talked to them to make sure everything would go according to plan, but overall they did seem willing to help. 

You boarded the ship with a satchel containing a few changes of clothes, a memory stick with photos and documents, your life savings, and some other odds and ends mementos. You didn't mind having your life packed into one bag that you could carry with you. There were many others who were not so lucky to have even that.

The other refugees all took seats in the main hold while you sat in a corner by yourself near the cockpit to see if you could get a peak at where you were heading. You were trying to have faith that the clones would hold to their promise and be ready for anything if they didn't. After all, you had seven Wookiees on your side and you were familiar with the old saying about how they were strong enough to pull an arm out of its socket.

The pilot of the ship, who introduced himself as Echo, was a clone trooper unlike any you had ever seen before. He had an implant that wrapped around his bald head and covered his ears and an interesting set of armor in rich autumn colors that juxtaposed against his pale skin yet somehow matched his serious demeanor. He stood in the doorway between the cockpit and the hold after the ship jumped to hyperspace. 

"Excuse me, Echo. Where are we going?" you ventured to ask.

Leaning against the door jam, he folded his arms, one which you only now noticed had a prosthetic scomp attachment on the end. You wondered if he had a run-in with a Wookiee...

"Somewhere safe," he said in a very deep and confident voice.

You could not help but be suspicious though as it was a somewhat purposely vague answer. "That hardly sounds comforting."

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to trust me."

"I'm not exactly inclined to trust clones." You didn't mean it to come out so bluntly, but your recent experience with the Empire wasn't in their favor.

"And I'm not exactly inclined to trust anyone but my brothers," he countered with a little bit of a stern and defensive stance.

On one hand you had seen the clone troopers basically transform overnight, from regular stationed soldiers under the Republic to the strict occupational forces of the Empire. The citizens they were once supposed to protect, were now subjected to a loss of freedoms, forced to have chain codes and curfews.

On the other hand, you remembered them once being honorable and chivalrous, and you knew how much the clone troopers suffered throughout the Clone Wars. Certainly Echo seemed to have suffered some sort of injury to have so many bionic implants and a prosthetic. You also heard hearsay about how they had been treated after. There was no helping the leaden feeling in your belly for being insensitive, especially to someone who so far did seem to be trying to help you and a cabin full of beings he never met before.

The thing that bothered you the most though was the change in his expression from just casual and conversational to really feeling offended. His grayish, hazel-brown eyes pierced through your sarcastic slip. Eyes that you knew had seen quite a bit more than yours, even though yours opened for the first time long before his.

Or maybe your eyes were just opening now as you suddenly truly saw the clone, no, man, for who he was. His chiseled features were paled by the rigors and misfortunes of war, but somehow that struck you even more. There was a story or two there and you wanted to know more about this mysterious trooper.

You could not apologize enough for your indiscretion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insinuate that you were untrustworthy. I- I-we,” you stammered and then sighed. “We've been through so much.  But I do appreciate everything you've done. Truly."

Echo relaxed some. Maybe he was a little harsh, maybe it was the duress of what happened on Teth, Tantiss, and the galaxy in general.  Always on the run since he was born and even when he was stuck in one place, in stasis, it was hardly restful. "It's all right. To be honest, clones aren't any different from anyone else. I've had my fair share of run-ins with certain untrustworthy clones, and a mess hall fight or two."

You appreciated his forgiving candor. "Mess hall fights? We called them food fights back in school. Hard to imagine you getting mixed up in one, let alone two,” you said with a little more levity trying to make him forget your earlier snarky attitude.

"Well, sometimes loyalty means more than not getting in trouble." Now it was Echo's turn to fondly remember all of his brothers and the shenanigans they had that Echo tried to stop but always somehow got stuck right in the thick of. A nostalgic smile spread across his lips.  

"So, you do smile," you remarked to him. It was nice to see. Up to now, he seemed all business.

"Once in a while.” He huffed a laugh. “I try not to make a habit of it. People might get the wrong idea.”

That was a puzzling statement and you wondered what he meant by it. There actually was a little disappointment in your demeanor as it seemed maybe the wrong idea was you entertaining the thought that he could like you, even as just a friend. But more and more as you gazed up at him, you couldn't help wondering if you could be more than that which was absurd considering you had just met him and never took any interest in any other clone that had been stationed on your homeworld.

The Wookiees vocalizing in conversation and whimpering caught your attention away from those spiraling thoughts.

Echo sighed as he observed the seven Wookiees he had not expected to be picking up. "Kind of wish Tech or Hunter were here."

"Well, looks like there's plenty of tech on the ship.” Your eyes wandered around to all of the blinking lights and machinery. “And I think the Wookiees had their fair share of run-ins with hunters."

“That sounds like something Tech would say,” Echo chuckled again. Or even Wrecker, but Echo kept that to himself so as not to confuse you more. "Tech and Hunter are my brothers,” Echo clarified. “Clones."

"Oooohhhh.... Of course. Oops." You laughed nervously.

Echo found himself enjoying talking to you, and to be honest, looking at you, so he gave a more detailed answer to prolong the conversation. "Tech has a translator on his helmet. And Hunter, well, he understands Shyriiwook. Just don't ask him to speak it."  He face contorted into a comical grimace which you found endearing.

You laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Non-Wookiees attempting their language is certainly very entertaining. Don't ask me how I know.” You winked playfully. “I don't speak it, but I do understand them,” you said with a gesture of your head towards your Wookiee friends. "They hope they can celebrate Life Day wherever they're going." When Echo stared at you with a quizzical silence, you added, "It's a holiday.”

Echo nodded. "So, for this Life Day thing, what do they do?”

“They celebrate family, joy, and harmony. On Kashyyyk, they traveled to the World Tree which was decorated with glowing blue orbs and there is also a big feast and other festivities and traditions based on tribal affiliation."

"Oh, that one. Yeah, I've heard about it. Well, we can't take them to Kashyyyk. The Empire is active there, as well as Trandoshan hunters, speaking of those. It's not safe.”

"Maybe we can help them celebrate wherever it is you're taking us," you said as more of a personal, out loud brainstorming rather than a suggestion to Echo, but he seemed to have taken it to heart.

"Hmm,” Echo hummed thoughtfully. He didn't know why he had taken such an interest in you or the Wookiees' plight, but he had an idea. “Maybe. I'll comm ahead to our destination. They might be able to help."

You smiled and Echo couldn't help but feel a little relief that maybe you trusted him more than when the conversation began, and furthermore, he didn't know why it mattered so much to him, but he headed back to the cockpit a little lighter in his step.

*

When you arrived at your destination, you were surprised to see that you were on an island paradise surrounded by beautiful waters sparkling with sunshine. A swirly tower sat atop a huge labyrinth of smaller structures that consisted of homes and shops.  There was rugged, yet beautiful architecture and pretty flowers everywhere.  It looked like the vacation posters you would see in the city tram stations to destinations that you could never afford to go to, or have anyone to go with. No wonder Echo wanted to keep it on the down low.

A stray thought entered your mind, maybe Echo could walk on the beach with you...

You and the other passengers walked down the ramp and were greeted officially by the Mayor of the island, Shep Hazard.  He welcomed you all with a handshake as well as his daughter, Lyana, and a woman with purple hair, Phee Genoa. Phee walked off with one of Echo's brothers who stood out for the goggles he wore.  They escorted Kent and Levi to perform some surgical procedure from what you overheard.

“Will they be okay? I heard the word surgery,” you asked Echo with concern.  It didn't play very well into your trouble with trust.

“Yeah,” he sighed with a hint of relief. “Yeah. They'll be fine.”

You were still concerned, but couldn't ask any more questions because a little, blonde girl ran and gave Echo a big hug then whispered something near his ear. Echo nodded at you with the subtlest hint of smile and you knew that the secret she was telling him had something to do with a Life Day celebration. Since there were smiles and cheerful expressions among the island's other greeters, you figured it was good news and your distrust was once again unwarranted. You nodded and smiled with understanding and appreciation before being whisked off to your new lodgings along with the Wookiees who you were happy to find out would be your neighbors!

*

As the early afternoon passed, you found yourself thinking a lot of Echo, wondering if you would see him again, or if he would be off on another refugee pick-up.  But even so, he would come back eventually.  But you would also probably be spending all that time thinking about him as you did today.  There was just something about him.

When the sun was about to set, the little girl who had hugged Echo earlier came knocking on your door with Lyana.

“Hello. I'm Omega!” she said excitedly. “We're here to collect you for the celebration!”

“Come on!” they exclaimed in unison, skipping backward and encouraging you with a beckoning arm gesture.

Lyana clapped her hands with enthusiasm. “It's time to celebrate! Follow us!”

As they went about gathering the rest of the refugees, both old and new, you ran in to Kent and Levi, now with bandages on their heads. “Are you guys okay?” you asked them.

“Never been better,” Kent replied with a broad smile. “How's the Wook family doing?”

“They're great. They have a hovel right next to mine and they're relieved to be safe. I couldn't be happier for them.” You stopped and faced them. “I also couldn't be happier for you. I just wanted to apologize about any doubt I had.”

“We understand,” Levi said. “We had our own doubts about Echo to be honest. But sometimes you have to trust your gut.”

Your heart fluttered a little, almost as it was a sign telling you to do the same. “Yeah. That is very good advice,” hoping your smile didn't give away your friendly aspirations toward Echo.

“Come on!” Omega and Lyana continued to wrangle everyone up long and windy steps to the courtyard atop the island after they had gotten all of the new refugees. The Wookiee children roared with just as much excitement.

Many of Pabu's citizens were already gathered around the great Weeping Maya tree in the center of the courtyard decorated with lights and seashells painted blue to emulate the traditional glowing orbs.  Wearing what red clothing they could find, a shirt here, a scarf there, they did their best to emulate the red robes of the holiday on Kashyyyk,

Gryrrrwarcca, the patriarch of the Wookiee family, stood before the tree with Verbecca, their three children, his brother in law, and an old family friend. He and Verbecca began a ceremonial speech that few understood, but listened intently nonetheless.

One of those not understanding was Echo who when you turned your head to the right, was magically standing next to you. You gasped in surprise even though you were happy to see him, especially after wondering if you would. “You're here!?” you said with a bit of a questioning inflection mixed with excitement.

“Yeah. I figured you would be the best person to stand next to since you can translate,” he said a little sheepishly with his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You translate what Gryrrrwarcca just vocalized: "He said: 'Oh great tree, we thank thee for your joyous blessings.'”

Verbecca spoke next. You translated again. “She said: 'For the life of every plant and creature, big and small, living in harmony.'"

Now all of the Wookiees and some in the crowd chanted as one.

"'We all are family.'"

Gryrrrwarcca held his arms up in a welcoming gesture  and roared a pleading prayer. Verbecca growled and roared a hopeful wish.

“He said: 'May the balance of life return' and she said: 'Happy Life Day to all, thank you for your generosity and hospitality.'”

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Shep followed with a closing speech. "We are all family, and we are grateful to welcome you to our island and hope you, and all refugees, flourish in this sanctuary.  Happy Life Day!"  Shep now mimicked Gryrrrwarcca's outstretched arm pose to be rewarded with a big hug that lifted him off the ground from the Wookiee patriarch.  Cheers from the gathered crowd followed.  Your eyes teared up because it was a lovely feeling to be part of an inclusive and compassionate society.  You only wished more galactic citizens could live like this and that there was more you could do to help them.  

When you looked up at Echo to smile at him because he helped make this possible, you couldn't tell if your eyes, blurry from your own tears, were tricking you or not.  But it looked like his eyes which looked at you so sternly on the ship, were now looking at you with equal emotion for the beautiful ceremony you both had just witnessed.

*

The feast was grand.  You got to meet Echo's family.  Tech was the name of the one with goggles and apparently he and Phee had something going on.  (Maybe there was hope for you yet.)  The other one whose name you heard before, Hunter, would not oblige you with a sample of his Shyriiwook, sadly.  Wrecker was the largest clone you had ever seen and had a heart to match; he hit it off very well with the Wookiees.  And there was one more, Crosshair, who didn't say too much unless sarcasm was involved, which you low key appreciated.

After that you got pulled away to the festivities.  Some young clone cadets handed out blue snowcones meant to represent the blue Life Day orbs. Gryrrrwarcca's children enjoyed those most and you translated that they politely requested seconds which they slurped up gratefully and insisted on being a new Life Day tradition.  There was a band that sang some old Life Day carols.  There were some games and competitions which involved sports balls painted blue and even some dancing.

You saw Echo talking to another woman. She was very attractive and you couldn't help feeling a little pang of jealousy.

After she walked away, you meandered casually over to him. "Who's that?" You asked trying to be as uninterested as possible.

"Emerie?" Echo asked completely aloof that it was out of a curiosity spurned by the ever slightest amount of jealousy. "She's a doctor. A science doctor. Doctor Emerie Carr."

"How do you know her? Is she a refugee like me?"  Once again you tried to sound as disinterested as possible, but you had a feeling that you were failing at that.

Echo wasn't as bad as Tech, but he knew his brothers would waste no time teasing him for not always being exactly aware of when he was being flirted with. Who could blame him? He knew he was very by the books to use an old turn of phrase. His cadet mates didn't tease him about reading the GAR regulation manual for nothing. But your interest in Dr. Carr coupled with questions about any relationship he might have with her finally tipped him off.

"She's a clone, like me. That makes her my sister, I guess." Echo paid attention to your facial features as you reacted and just as he suspected, there was a sense of relief in your eyes and the relaxation of the muscles around your mouth even betraying your own emotional caution when a subtle smile got past your defenses.  

"I didn't know there were female clones," you remarked with genuine curiosity.

Echo huffed a laugh. "Neither did we. Omega is our sister, too." He couldn't help but smile at you, he wanted to put you at ease, to let you know you could trust him, especially after what you said when you first met. Considering that you seemed to single him out for conversation, he had a feeling you did.

He continued. "Emerie helps us find more of our brothers and rescue them from the Empire."

Your mind did a brief calculation of all the times you tried to help others, like Verbecca and her family, checking in on your elder neighbors on your homeworld, even volunteering for various causes. You were no doctor like Emerie, but you knew you were capable and skilled in other areas that might be useful.  And you wanted to repay the kindness you had been shown, especially by Echo.  "Is there any way I can help?"

Echo had not expected you to offer, especially after just arriving to a safe haven that was also picturesque and peaceful. It was pleasant surprise though, because to be honest, they needed all the help they could get. Plus, he'd get to have more conversations with you.  And see you as well.  There was no denying he was attracted to you, and it wasn't like any attraction he ever felt before.  Without sounding too eager, he finally replied, "I'm sure we can find a way. You've already done so much for Grrocca."  

You could not stifle a giggle.

Echo furrowed his forehead. "What? What's so funny?"

"Gryrrrwarcca."

"That's what i said. Grrrreerocca."

With your hand covering your mouth, even though there was no way to hide it, you laughed again. "Close enough.” You smiled cheerfully, but soon became serious. “But that was you and the great people of Pabu here. Not me. I only translated."

"Not only translated. You took them in, protected them, escorted them offworld to make sure the Empire didn't get 'em, leaving behind your life on your homeworld. That's more than you think." Echo could not help but admire your selflessness.  He knew all too well what it was like to lose one's home.

Compliments were not something you took very well, and much to your chagrin, it was probably showing in your sheepish expression and body language.  You nervously glanced down at the water in the distance.  "I just like to help people."  You shrugged your shoulders then looked back at Echo.  "And I'd like to help you.  Any way I can."

"Just like I always say, we can use all the help we can get."  Echo watched as your gaze went back out to the ocean.  "You keep looking out to the ocean.  You're not thinking of going for a swim are you?  Apparently there's some pretty big fish out there.  With even bigger teeth."  

"I think I had enough fish at the feast."  You smirked sarcastically.  "I did think about taking a walk on the beach though," you said hoping Echo would get the hint that you wanted him to go, too.

Echo knew what you were asking and he replied in the same subtle manner.  "There's a lot of winding walkways and alleys, like a maze.  I wouldn't want you to get lost."  He started walking.  "Come on."

Echo was right, there were a lot of walkways and steps that had no particular pattern that you wouldn't be able to decipher without giving it much thought.  Finally, you reached the sand at the base of the huge island.  The sound of the waves lapping at the shore was music to your ears.  "This is the first time I've ever seen an ocean," you softly announce as you stare in wonder at the surf and sky of orange, pinks, and blues.

"Really?"  Echo was taken aback by that confession.  He had been too so many different worlds.  Sometimes he forgot some people never left their planet let alone their home town.

"Landlocked. Not even a lake nearby."  You don't know if it was the Life Day brew you drank, the emotions of the day turning out so perfect after worrying so much, of leaving your homeworld behind and seeing an ocean for the first time, or simply being in close proximity to someone you felt a real connection with, but you were overwhelmed with gratitude.  “Thank you for rescuing us and setting up Life Day for my friends.” Before you knew it you were on your tip toes to give Echo a kiss on the cheek. You gasped after doing it, knowing that you had made yet another indiscretion. “Oh, I'm sorry, that was a little forward, I just am so grateful for your help, and it's just so lovely here, and you're so lovely, and I just wanted to thank you.” You winced smacked your forehead at your gushing and rambling.

Echo meanwhile was quite amused by your explaining away of the little peck on his cheek. If he was being honest, he wouldn't mind if it were more than that. After a little chuckle at your expense which was only fair after you laughed at his rather poor Wookie name pronunciation, he placed a hand on your shoulder.  “It was my pleasure to help them, and you.” He then took your hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a little peck as you did to his cheek, but he had a hard time letting go of your hand and instead held on to it.  “You sure you want to leave behind the safety of this place. This view?” 

You couldn't deny, the transition from sunset to twilight sky over the water, the sound of the ocean waves, the balmy breeze, and smell of flowers, and salty sea air were enticing. But you needed to trust your gut, and your heart.  “I can think of a much nicer view than this.” You gestured with a flick of your hand towards the sea and then gazed up into those steely eyes, which seemed to soften the more you peered into them.

Echo brushed your hair from your face, admiring the features that made you, you. None so spectacular as your eyes that seemed to see what made him, him. The more he stared into your eyes, the more he understood the simple wish behind them. He tipped his head down, continuing to read your expression, relieved to understand that you welcomed his own forwardness, but he dare not forego being a gentleman. "May I?"

You were sure your eyes were twinkling as much as the stars appearing one by one in the sky as you let Echo know that you welcomed his affection and trusted him implicitly.  "Yes."  You smiled.

Echo leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek as you did to him, but let his lips linger a little longer than yours had.  It was the first time in a long time that he felt like he didn't have to rush or worry about anything.  "It's just that it's so lovely here, and you're so lovely."

It was a lovely moment, but you couldn't help a small laugh.  "It sounds like you're echo-ing what I said earlier."  You smirked with a raised eyebrow, even though you knew it was sincere and not teasing.  You just trusted he actually  meant it, because you knew he was one of the most trustworthy and honest men you'd ever met.

"Why do you think my name is Echo?" he quipped with a playful shrug of his shoulders.

Your smile was probably big and goofy, but you didn't care.  You squeezed his hand which was still holding yours affectionately.  "You know, I think it's fitting to celebrate Life Day here.  It's like we all get a second chance at life.  And other things," you said coyly.  

"And other things," Echo smiled, something he found himself doing more since meeting you.  "Couldn't have said it better myself.  Happy Life Day."

"Happy Life Day, Echo."

[boldlyvoid]

I Know Places: Roadkill

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: Once again, Aaron puts himself in harm's way. Once again, reader scolds him for it. Bickering like an old married couple in front of the whole team, it becomes glaringly obvious that they're more than just coworkers now.

Warnings: background Moreid, Canon Typical Violence (mentions of possible rape, car accidents, hit and runs, murder) angst with a happy ending, arguing, worrying, makeup sex (first time together) teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies.

Word count: 14.9k

Not much changes between them at work. They’re still acting as professionally as possible, only now with longing stares all across the country and only one bed during their hotel stays.

In the last few weeks, they’ve had 4 cases. Each has gone by as smoothly as possible, without accidents or escapes or injuries. And Aaron’s stopped obsessing over Foyet, for the most part. He still reads the files when he has free time and he asks Penelope to add new perimeters to her searches, but other than that, he’s taken a bit of the weight off his shoulders to share with the rest of the team when the time comes. 

Everyone knows they’ve just not filed the paperwork because it’s a hassle and Strauss, their section Chief would find some way to make it a problem. She’ll find out eventually, but until then, they’re just going with the flow, experiencing life together as a happy couple as long as they can. 

He hasn’t told Haley yet, either. Seeing as she doesn’t want to admit that Conrad— her “friend” who’s always over during pick up and drop offs with Jack— is actually her boyfriend, they don’t have to tell her that they’re anything more than friends either. Jack likes Y/N, he holds her hand at the park and always asks if she can stay for a sleepover when he’s spending the night at his dad's. It’s the sweetest thing. 

Every morning that they’re in Quantico, they meet at the round table at 10 am to prep new cases. They come in to work together at 8:30, holding hands while carrying coffee in their other. When they get up to Aaron’s office, JJ is in there with a file and an awkward, press-lipped smile on her face. 

“What’s up?” He asks, letting go of her hand and walking over to his desk. 

“Police in Bend, Oregon have asked for our help… this unsub is running people over with his car, there’s been two victims in the last 12 days,” she explains. 

“Okay, I’ll look over the file and we’ll meet in the briefing room early today, tell the others 9:30 at the latest,” Hotch orders. 

“Got it,” she picks up her things and starts to leave. She pats Y/N on the arm with a knowing smile, “See you out there.” 

“You certainly will,” she smiles back at her. “Actually, I’m going to go help her photocopy everything and get ready, I’ll see you in there?” 

“Okay,” Aaron nods. “Save me a seat.” 

“Beside me as always,” she teases him one last time before heading out. 

She’s so cute, he just shakes his head, watching from the window as she skips down a couple of steps and heads over to her desk. She says hi to Anderson and waves at a few people before following JJ up to the briefing room to make photocopies. He is so in love with her it makes him feel a little crazy. He has work to do, but his mind is stuck on her. He’s happy. At his desk. He's... happy? 

For the first time in his life, he’s happy while at work.

And everyone knows it too. He’s staying at work less, still keeping up with his paperwork somehow, coming in a little later in the mornings, and he’s smiling more often. He’s heard the rumours and the mumblings, he knows people think he’s like this cause he’s getting laid again… but the truth is they haven’t. 

He sleeps at her house, she sleeps at his, they sleep in the same bed on cases and they’ve come close to it before, but they haven’t had sex yet. Neither one of them has brought it up yet. 

The first week they were together, they were busy on a case. The second week they had a pretty gross case and neither one of them was in the mood after it and then he had Jack all weekend. Then last week, she was on her period and he was happy to dote on her and give her a massage and cover her in kisses before sleeping beside her and holding her close but not too tight. He loves her so much, this relationship is so much more than just physical… he’s only had sex with 1 woman in his whole life, and even then, it took them over a year to do it because they were in high school. 

This is just what he’s used to. He’ll be ready whenever she asks, he doesn’t need it… does he crave it? A little. She’s beautiful. He has to see her in action with her shirt rolled up and her bulletproof vest on. He sees her manhandle creeps and cuff them, sometimes even fight them a little. He listens to her give orders and put people in their place. Of course, he wants her. But he knows how to wait. He’s a patient man. 

He has to shake all the thoughts out of his mind before he cracks open the case file. He takes another sip of his coffee and starts to read over the police report. He looks at the photos, the coroner's report, the witness statements and everything else JJ thought was important to include. 

This is a weird one. He’s never seen a serial killer who favours vehicular homicide. Most of them want to do the killing themselves, they want to use their hands and feel the glory. This guy might not even be a guy. It could be a woman, using a vehicle might give her the power she lacks. The way they’ve been hit, backed over and hit again… that’s anger that comes from planning and a desire to kill. It’s unlikely that these are just victims of happenstance, this killer is calculated and these women that died were chosen for a reason. 

He gathers all his things and meets the others in the briefing room, Derek, Spencer and Dave have yet to show up but they’ll be in soon. Right now, it’s just the girls. 

“And then— oh, sorry, sir,” Penelope stops whatever she was saying as she sees him. 

“On, no, it’s okay. You can keep talking… unless you don’t want me to know?” He hesitates to sit down, he’d leave if they needed him to. 

“No, it’s fine,” she sighs. “Kevin is interviewing with the NSA for a new job and he can’t even tell me where he’s going if he gets it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he feels terrible for her. Long distance sucks. But he sits down, ready to listen, wanting to be there for her and offer some wisdom if she wants it. 

“I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen. What if he never comes home? What if I can’t talk to him? What if he breaks up with me right before he goes and then I never hear from him again? I’m not ready to just lose someone in my life permanently.” 

“You’re Penelope Garcia,” he reminds her. “You can easily find out where he’s going… and you can easily stop transfers from going through, remember you held mine up so I could stay here?” 

She nods, “I still feel sorry about that, sir, I didn’t mean to start things with you at home.” 

“It’s okay, I’m much happier now,” he smiles over to Y/N. “I wouldn’t have my beautiful girlfriend if I still had a wife.” 

“Very funny,” Y/N can’t believe he said that. She laughs and shakes her head, she licks her lips and laughs again. “You really just said that?” 

“And I mean it,” he teases, reaching over for her hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses her hand, making the other two women swoon a bit. 

“Hotch, I had no idea you were a romantic,” JJ teases him. “Were you always like this?” 

He shrugs, “I was a teenager the last time I was in love like this.” 

“In love?” They hear Derek's voice as he and Reid come through the door. “What did I miss?” 

“Nothing,” Y/N waves it off, trying desperately not to be the centre of attention. “We’re just talking about our relationships, anything you two want to share?” 

“no—“ Derek starts but Spencer sits beside her and smiles. 

“Derek’s never not been the sharing type and then he started dating me and now he’s like Fort Knox about it all,” Spencer teases. 

“Hey,” Derek sits beside him and swats his arm. “It’s because I love you, you’re not some rando who came home with me once.” 

“And what an honour that is,” Spencer teases again. 

Derek’s just about to say something when they hear the whistling. Dave comes in with his coffee and the remnants of a lipstick stain on his cheek and sits down in the only empty spot left. “What’ve we got today?” 

Everyone shares a few looks and knowing smiles, but Aaron answers. “A weird one in Bend, Oregon.” 

“An unsub who kills with his car,” Y/N adds. 

“They’ve had two victims in the last 12 days,” Hotch explains while they all open their files and have a look.

JJ stands, holding the remote for the projector, She starts to show them their victims. 23-year-old Maria Delgado was stuck while out on a jog and the second, a stranded motorist, Shannon Makely, 43. 

“What makes the locals think that they were connected?” Derek asks. 

“For one thing, they were both backed over after the initial impact,” JJ explains, showing them the photos again which makes Penelope shield her eyes. 

“No accident there,” Dave grumbles, cheerful mood already gone. 

“Plus, the treads found at both scenes match. Large vehicle, all-terrain,” Aaron adds but doesn’t cover all of it. 

JJ moves to more photos on the screen, the ME report as well, “Wounds also indicate a raised bumper, so they’re thinking a large SUV or a truck.” 

“Do they know the model or make?” Spencer asks. 

She shakes her head, “Tyres aren’t factory issues. They could be on a number of different vehicles.” 

“And no witness at either incident?” Y/N asks, flipping through the file, not finding anything. 

“No, just the unlucky people who came across the bodies after it had already happened,” JJ sighs.

“A hit-and-run is loud, usually they draw attention. Somebody usually sees something,” Rossi says, posing the question they’re all thinking. How did no one see it happen?

“Both victims were attacked in secluded areas,” JJ explains further. 

“Two tones of metal make a hell of a weapon,” Derek says with a shake of his head, disgusted by the lengths these killers go through.

“Serial killers have been known to become rather attached to their vehicles,” Spencer throws in. “Bittaker and Norris even gave theirs a nickname—

“murder Mack,” Rossi finishes for him. 

“Bittaker and Norris were sexual sadists. There’s no sign of torture here,” Hotch reminds them.

“Sounds like a thrill kill?” Y/N proposes. “Opportunistic.” 

“Easy targets, randomly selected,” Dave agrees. 

“With this type of impact, vehicles shouldn’t be hard to pick out from a lineup,” Derek concludes. 

“Yeah, there should be significant front-end damage,” Spencer backs him up. 

“Somehow I don’t think this is gonna be that easy,” Dave says, closing his file. 

“I contacted the pilot already, the jet is ready whenever we are,” JJ informs them, closing down the screen as they all get ready to go. 

“Wheels up in 20.” 

—

“I think it's safe to assume this unsub is a male,” Y/N says as soon as the conversation picks back up on the plane. 

“I agree with you, given what we know,” Hotch nods, reading over the file again. “At first I thought maybe it could be a woman, using a car to feel powerful but with the amount of road rage and aggression we see in men, it’s less likely it would be a woman doing this.” 

“It’s also just too messy,” Spencer adds for good measure. 

“Exactly.” 

“And men have an unnatural bond with their cars,” Y/N jokingly reminds everyone. 

“That is true,” JJ gets it. 

“Wait a minute, I don't know about unnatural?” Derek feels offended. 

“I once dated a guy who washed his car more than he washed his hair,” JJ stares him down until he gives in. 

“A nice car needs love,” Rossi pipes up. Derek points at him cause he gets it. 

“And a woman doesn’t?” JJ just blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. 

“I’m not qualified to answer that,” Rossi teases, making them all laugh. 

“I’m just saying, big car… that’s phallic?” Y/N shrugs, looking at Aaron. 

“So he’s compensating?” Aaron poses. 

“Or overcompensating,” Spencer corrects. 

“Impotent?” Derek suggests. 

“Possibly, i-if the unsub sees himself as physically defective the car not only gives him the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield,” Spencer further explains. 

“A way to avoid physical contact?” Hotch asks. 

“Power and control,” Y/N starts to put the pieces together out loud. “Female victims… that almost reads like a rape profile.” 

“Vehicular rape,” Rossi says, taken aback by the mere thought. 

“Rape and thrill kill are two very different profiles,” Derek reminds them. 

“What does victimology tell us?” Hotch asks. 

“Nothing yet,” JJ shrugs, filling through the pages in her file but coming up short. “Shannon Makely was a white, married, 43-year-old commodities trader and Maria Delgado was a 23-year-old Hispanic graduate student and competitive triathlete.” 

“So far gender is our only link,” Hotch agrees. “Hopefully the crime scenes will tell us more… when we get there, Morgan and Rossi you can go to the Makely crime scene. Y/N and I will go to Delgados and then Reid, you and JJ can hit up the ME and then head to the station to set up the boards.” 

“Why do you two get to do everything together?” Spencer whines. 

“Because you’re the doctor, you need to go and pick out shit the coroner missed and Derek is the best at retracing steps, no offence Rossi,” Y/N answers on Aaron’s behalf. 

“None taken. Out of all of you, Derek reminds me the most of what me and Gideon were like in the beginning,” Dave gives him a small smile. 

“He was a great teacher,” Derek says. “But it’s fine, we’re still partnered up in the hotels, right?” 

“Yep,” JJ tries not to smile. “I’ve got you guys in a room with just one queen, down the hall from the rest of us, too.” 

The rest of them smirk too, while Y/N and Aaron haven’t even bothered to get sexual yet, those two weren’t hiding anything. Between strange noises in the middle of the night and the rhythmic knocking of a bed frame on shared walls… it was pretty obvious that the good doctor and Derek Morgan were having a lot of fun together. 

—

When they touch down, they separate into 3 SUVs on the tarmac and make their way from the small local airport 3 towns over all the way to Bend. Aaron and Y/N get a call from one of the local cops, Detective Feder, who is going to meet them at the jogging trail and walk them through everything. The main detective, Quinn, is with Rossi and Morgan at the most recent crime scene. 

It’ll take them about 45 minutes to get there, though the winding country roads on this side of the country are nice, so it’s no big deal. The trees make for nice shade and the shade brings a cool breeze too, when just one state south they’d be in the disgusting heat of California. They have the windows down, the music on low, Aaron holds her hand as he drives and she looks out the window at the scenery. It’s a nice break from the horrors of their job. 

When they arrive, the cop is leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting. He gives them a tight-lipped smile when they pull up, parking right behind him, they get out at the same time. 

“Hey,” the cop waves. “Detective Feder, nice to meet you.” 

He shakes Aarons hand first, “Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N.” 

“Hi,” she smiles while shaking his hand. “Hope you weren’t waiting long?” 

“Nah, I just pulled up not 5 minutes ago,” he waves it off. “Follow me,” he says, leading them behind his squad car and towards the trail. “It’s not a very popular jogging area. There aren’t too many people who can take that hill coming up here.” 

“Well, she was a triathlete,” Y/N reminds him. 

“We figured she jogged in off the main road, headed for the trail up here,” he points to the side. When he gets to the bloody spot on the concrete he stops. “The assailant drove in behind her, and ran her down right here.” 

“Uh… a woman jogging alone, no… she would’ve known if someone was tailing her,” Y/N states, speaking from a woman’s point of view, she knows what it's like to be on high alert at all times. 

“So maybe he was already here?” Aaron proposes. Looking around, there’s a big red garbage bin that’s been dropped off and what looks to be construction equipment set up behind a fence. “What’s the story with all this equipment?” 

“Construction stalled out months ago, no reason for anyone to be up here,” Feder explains. 

Aaron keeps walking, behind the garbage bin, “it’s nice and quiet. It's the ideal spot to wait to run somebody down without being seen.” 

“A little convenient,” Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Too convenient,” Aaron agrees. “What if it was her? What if she were the reason he was up here?” 

“You don’t think this was a random attack?” Y/N’s almost shocked to hear him say that. 

He shakes his head and kneels down to look at the dirt, “oil,” he points, pressing his finger into the darkened wet patch and showing them. “He was lying in wait.”

“Shit,” Feder sighs, he can’t believe they missed these signs. “Okay. We should regroup at the station.” 

“We’ll call our guys,” Y/N says, going to take out her phone. “On second thought… there’s no service.” 

“Yeah most of the county has terrible service,” Feder shrugs. “I’ll radio it in for you, Quinn should get it.” 

“Thanks," Aaron gives him a small smile and then motions with his head towards their car to get Y/N to follow. 

—

“He may have specifically targeted these women,” Hotch proposes to the others as soon as he sits down at the table. 

Y/N and JJ were off talking to family, Derek was on a coffee run, leaving him with the lead detective, Spencer and Dave. 

“That takes thrill-kill off the table,” Rossi sits back, wanting to hear everything hotch learned at the first crime scene. Cause that’s how they worked best, going backwards. 

“Because the murders were planned in advance?” Quinn asked. 

“Yeah,” Spencer hesitates, looking at his board with everything he’s mapped out so far. “This type of stalking behaviour indicates a personal motive. There’s a reason he chose these victims.” 

“So you think he knows them?” Quinn follows up, wanting to get a look inside the genius' brain. That’s exactly why he called them in for this with only two murders and not the typical 3 killings that would garner their attention. 

“Well, he knew their work schedules, jogging routes, drive patterns,” Hotch points out. 

“That would explain how he knew where to strike,” Spencer adds. 

“Explains the Delgado girl, she was on a run, but he could’ve known Shannon Makely’s car was gonna break down out there?” Quinn says, having a hard time thinking outside the box, unlike the rest of them. 

“Did you look at her car?” Rossi asks. 

“Guys at impound said that it was a water pump that blew, said it’s a common enough problem,” Quinn explains. 

“Maybe we should take a closer look?” Rossi suggests.

“Why don’t you head over there?” Aaron agrees, sending the best man for that job. Dave was a car guy, he had fixed up countless classics, and he’d know how to talk shop better than the rest of them. “Let me know what you find.” 

Right as Dave starts to stand up, Y/N comes rushing over to the table, “Shannon Makely’s husband is here.” 

Hotch had requested to talk to him when he arrived, he had questions to ask and hearing them from another man might make it go by easier. Whereas the mother of Maria Delgado would’ve done better with the girls, that’s why he had them speak to her first. 

“Okay, thanks,” he starts to stand, “you want to join us?” He asks Detective Quinn. 

He nods, standing with him. They all head into an office, Mr. Makely is already in there waiting for them, his eyes puffy and red, he’s been crying. Probably a lot. That was a given. Aaron’s not sure how he’d react if his wife— ex-wife died. Even after everything they’ve been through, he’d probably be devastated too. 

“I just want it to make sense,” Mr. Makely cries. “But this…” he doesn’t know what to say. 

“We may be able to make some sense of this with your help,” Y/N offers, her kindest voice on display. She hands him a photo of Maria Delgado. “Do you recognize that woman?” 

He stares for a mere second and shakes his head. Gripping his water bottle like his life depended on it, “No. Should I?” 

“She was the first victim,” Y/N explains. “We’re trying to determine if she was connected to your wife in some way.” 

“Connected?” He asks, having a hard time processing everything. 

“We think he may have been following them. Gathering information,” Aaron adds. “Did Shannon ever mention or notice anyone?”

“No…” his brows furrow as he thinks back as far as he can but his mind is clearly shadowed by grief. 

“Did you ever notice anyone out of the ordinary in your neighbourhood?” She asks, watching him shake his head. “Maybe someone who was walking or driving by the house repeatedly?” 

He keeps shaking his head, he really doesn’t think so. 

“What about a truck? Or a large SUV?” Hotch asks. 

His brows narrow then, his eyes wander back and forth as he puts some pieces together, “Thursday, I was expecting a package, I kept checking the street and there was a truck parked a couple of houses down. I didn’t recognize it.” 

“Could you see anyone inside?” Aaron asks. 

He shakes his head again, kicking himself, “I couldn’t tell, the windows were blacked out.”

“Tinted?” Aaron repeats in a different phrasing, looking to Y/N and then back to him. 

“Yeah, only all the way around, like you see with limousines,” he explains better. He rubs his mouth then, trying his hardest to think back, he visibly hates himself for not remembering more. 

Aaron gives him a moment and then asks one last question. “Do you think that you would recognize the truck if you saw it again?” 

He sniffles and then clears his throat, pulling himself together, he nods, “Mhm, maybe?” 

And so they get him pictures of trucks, makes and models, they print off so many pictures they have to bring in more paper. This is the most this department's printer has ever gone off, as it would seem. 

Dave was back from the mechanic pretty soon thereafter, they were behind on things and asked him to come back in a few hours, meaning Aaron could go with him this time. 

The mechanic working on the little red car pops the hood and brings them around to look, “we figured it was the water pump because it was pretty much melted but what we didn’t figure out on this—“ he pulls forward a piece of rubber tubing with a slit cut through it. 

“This car's pretty new, that wouldn’t be normal wear and tear, would it?” Aaron asks. 

“No, the rest of the lines in good condition,” he explains. “Someone punctured it. You can tell from the smooth edge.”

Aaron leans in to get a better look, “How did they do it?” 

“Probably reached the blade right through the grill. Penknife, something like that,” he hypothesizes. 

“Wouldn’t’ve even had to pop the hood,” Rossi tisks, shaking his head. Theres nothing he hasn’t seen. “And then she drove away without water in the radiator, it explains the overheating.” 

“It explains the pump, too,” The mechanic adds. 

“Could someone possibly gauge how far she could’ve travelled with a car in this condition?” Hotch asks one last question to chase his theory. 

He presses his lips together and shrugs, “Someone who knows cars could make an educated guess, I suppose.” 

“Thank you,” Aaron reaches over to shake his hand, that’s everything he needed. 

Dave does the same thing, shaking the man's hand before the two of them head off back towards their own car. “Sabotage. This guys more focused than we thought. Well organized, highly motivated.” 

“By what though?” Aaron asks, still stuck on that part. “What do these women have in common?” 

“Different ages, appearance, social status. He’s not hunting a specific type,” Dave recounts. 

“Their only connection is the unsub. There has to have been contact before the attacks,” Hotch says, going back on what they’ve profiled before. 

Rossi picks that us, “but we profiled a guy who would be afraid of contact? The trucks a shield.” 

“Maybe the contacts are incidental. There’s something he perceives in their exchange. Something about his perception triggers his fixation,” Hotch explains. “Could be the way she looks at him, something she says, or even something as trivial as what she’s wearing… whatever it is, the victims have no idea what they’ve set in motion.” 

—

Visiting the crime scenes, and talking with loved ones and the mechanic was really all they could do that day. The team goes out for dinner together around 6 and by 8 they’re all in their hotel rooms with nothing to do for 12 hours— or when another kill comes in. 

Y/N and Aaron have a room with two beds, like always, one to sleep in together and one for all their bags to sit on. They change, they get into bed together and by 9pm they’re cuddled into each other and absolutely exhausted. It’s midnight back home, they’d normally still be up at this time but still, all the travel and the emotional toll of talking to victim's families has them pretty wiped out. 

He loves this time of night, the way they cuddle and how she fits next to him like she’s the other half of his puzzle. They talk a little, about the case and also about nothing serious at all. He loves this part of the night, when they’re tucked away in some random bed in a random town in America… he never thought he’d have this. 

He never imagined one day he wouldn’t be with Haley, and even if he did, he never thought he’d be happy without her. So much of his marriage with her was good, he loved coming home to a cuddle and a good night's sleep. But on the other end, he spent a lot of nights completely alone. He would cuddle his pillow and have terrible sleep only to wake up grumpy and keep searching for another psychopath. 

Now, he gets to sleep beside his girlfriend whom he loves so much every single night, no matter where he is. Dating someone on his team was not something he thought would ever happen. He had no idea the joy that dating someone at work could bring him. 

“I love you,” he whispers before kissing the back of her neck. 

“I love you,” she replies, he can hear the smile on her face. 

He holds her a bit tighter, snuggling in against her more, “This is so nice to get to sleep beside you on nights like this.” 

“Oh, Aaron,” she has her hand over his, and she squeezes him lovingly. 

“I mean it… after talking to Shannon Makely’s husband today, I’m just, I’m really glad I have you.” 

She wiggles out of his grip and for a moment he fears that she doesn’t feel the same, instead, she turns to face him. Even in the dark, he can make out her features. He holds her close once more, chest to chest this time, and she smiles. She cups his face and leans in for a quick kiss. 

“I feel the same… but I have a question?” 

“Okay?” 

“If something happened to you, would you want me to talk to Haley?” She asks. “And I’m not talking if you die, I mean, if you’re stabbed or shot or taken hostage, do you want me to talk to her or should that conversation come from Rossi or Strauss?” 

“Oh,” he’s never thought about that. “I’d want you to tell her. I mean, she knows we're close so she probably expects it to be you… but if I ever do die on the job, I definitely want it to be you who talks to her. I want you to be the one to give them access to my apartment and make sure Jack gets all my things and that my funeral goes smoothly.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but her breathing picks up and he can tell she’s trying hard not to cry. “Okay.” 

He simply pulls her in closer and rests his cheek off the top of her head, “but that’s not going to happen.” 

“I know.” 

“And if it’s ever the other way around if it’s Haley who dies before me, I want you to be with me if I have to go through that. If Jack is still young enough to need to move in with me full-time, I’d want you to be around for that too. I know I’d be a mess if I lost her, and if Jack lost his mom, and that’s not because I’m still in love with her… I mean, I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. If I lost her it would be hard on us, but I’d want you to be there with me when things get hard.” 

“Of course, I’d be there for you,” she assures him. “The same way I’d want you to come home with me if my parents passed away. She’s family. I know that. I’m never going to be jealous of her. I’d want to be there for Jack too. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mom as a kid, and I hope he never has to go through that. I’m praying that his mom is in his life for as long as possible and that maybe one day me and haley could even become friends. I want us to be a family, as unconventional as that may be, I love you enough to love everyone in your family, too.” 

He wants to cry now too. When he got divorced he never ever, ever thought that he’d find someone who loves him and his family this way. He never thought his girlfriend would want to be close to his ex-wife. He never imagined a world where his son would have two strong and wonderful women to look up to but that’s what he found.

“I love you,” Aaron says before kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much.” 

She kisses his neck where her head is tucked in, holding him as close as possible. “Sometimes I can’t believe this happened. Like, I thought you were cute when I started working with you and I knew you were married and I thought all Jack's photos on your desk were so sweet. I really just wanted to be your friend after the divorce. I never had a lot of girlfriends, I’m not super close to JJ or Penelope, so getting to know you was the first time I had a good friend in a long time.” 

“Finding friends as an adult is hard,” he sympathizes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without our phone calls… I spent the first few months completely silent in my apartment all alone and then you filled my nights with laughter and smiles and I woke up the next morning excited to go to work. I didn’t even realize I was in love with you until it was almost too late.” 

She smiles, “I only figured it out cause I got jealous in New York.” 

“God, this last year has been absolutely insane,” he shakes his head. He got divorced, he fell in love and the only other woman he’s ever slept with in his life died. In his arms, too. It’s been such a traumatic year but Y/N made it liveable. She made it okay. 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.” 

—

They’re up and ready by 7, unable to sleep in that long when their body clock was off. 

They all leave at different times, JJ left with Rossi just before Y/N and Aaron were done getting ready and texted that they left. Derek and Spencer were running a little late but that was usual. They had just enough time to get coffee at a local family-owned diner and they even get some breakfast sandwiches too, which were on the house as the owners were thankful the FBI was in town to help. It put an extra pep in their step that morning. 

When they arrived at the station, Mr. Makely was already there, still looking through photos of vehicles from the day before but in a new outfit. He went home, didn’t sleep but came back changed to give the illusion that he did. He smelled like booze and the bags under his eyes were the same purple as the tie Aaron had on yesterday. So Arron heads over to the coffee maker, pours the man a cup and sets it down beside him with a smile. 

This was going to be a long day. 

By the time Derek and Spencer get in, Y/N and JJ have already gone through a box of information gathered on the first two victims. Where they grew up, who they went to school with, their family members, hospital records, speeding tickets, you name it and they’ve seen it. Nothing has added up yet. 

Derek takes a seat by Mr. Makely, asking him how he’s doing and questioning him on what he’s able to remember thus far and Marley takes a couple images and lays them out. “These ones stick out.” 

“All Ford models, similar grills like you described yesterday,” Derek nods along. 

“I guess, they just didn’t have that emblem,” he points. “There was no hood ornament, nothing like that.” 

“I understand how hard this must be, but it’ll really help us to know what the truck looks like,” Derek sympathizes. “Our tech girl can put in all these specifications into the system and narrow down who drives this model, she can even go further and track down who’s bought grills and had them shipped to Bend recently.” 

“I’ll keep looking,” he assures Derek with a smile. 

Derek pats his shoulder and then joins the team at the round table. “How’s it going?” Aaron asks. 

“Well, we're down to an older model, black, American-made. Sounds like he de-badged the trucks so nobody could ID him,” Derek explains. 

“I can start a list from the DMV matching what we know?” Quinn offers. 

“That’s gonna kill a lot of trees up in these parts,” Derek makes a joke, even in times like these he still found a way. 

“The trucks only gonna get us so far,” Hotch agrees. “What we need to do is build on the profile.” 

“Well he’s mechanically inclined,” Reid throws in. “He certainly knows his way around an engine block.” 

“And he can pull a dent too,” Y/N suggests. “If he’s fixing the body damage to his truck himself.” 

“Both victims were killed during prime office hours which means he has a flexible work schedule,” Aaron adds. 

“Or he might not be working at all? Uh, stalking someone, getting to know their schedule that’s some pretty serious time commitment,” Reid reminds them all. 

“8% of the states out of work,” Quinn shares. 

“Job loss is a classic stressor,” Derek says for good measure. 

“It’s a start,” Hotch sighs. “Look for men who are employed as mechanics, body shops, and look for those with criminal records. Reckless driving, assault…”

“Two murders in 2 weeks, that’s not much of a cooling-off period,” Y/N says. 

“He’s not going to wait for another opportunity to present itself,” Hotch agrees. 

“No, he’ll create one,” Reid adds, knowing the odds. 

—

The call comes in just after 5 p.m., in the middle of shift change. There was another murder, in the parking garage of the local hospital this time. Aaron heads out with Y/N  Rossi and Reid, leaving Derek with Mr. Makely and JJ to contact the family once they know more. 

When they get there it's a gruesome sight. He was hit in front of the elevator, almost pancaked between the grill of the truck and the metal doors. 

“Impact nearly cut him in two,” Quinn says, closing back up the body bag that the coroner had placed the victim in. “His name is Victor Costella. Pediatrist. He works in the building.” 

“A male victim?” Y/N can’t believe it. 

“There goes the vehicular rape theory,” Rossi says with a sigh, this case was starting to piss him off. 

“He ran down from the level above trying to get away,” Quinn explains. 

“So the initial collision was up there?” Rossi points. Quinn nods, “Let's go see it.” 

They leave the victim where he is and walk up the roundabout ramp towards where he was originally parked. A few cars got caught in the scuffle, and crime scene detectives are already up there taking photos and documenting everything. 

“That’s the victims car?” Reid points at the red coop. 

“Yeah, why?” Quinn asks, not seeing why it’s important. 

“Hold on just a moment,” Reid says, taking his phone from his pocket. “Garcia, I need you to look into something.” 

They all knew what that meant. They were about to have a crack in this case and hopefully one big enough to blow it wide open. 

“It’s a reserved spot,” Aaron points at the wall, the sign is screwed into the concrete wall with Dr. Costella written on it. Rusty and faded, he’s been at this practice a long time. 

“The unsub knew where he was going to park, must’ve gotten here early and picked a spot right across from him,” Rossi explains, turning to look at the other parking spots. 

“Somebody might’ve seen him waiting,” Y/N says, hopeful to talk to an eyewitness. 

“Somebody did,” Detective Feder says, showing up from the lower level and surprising them with his presence. “I talked to an X-ray tech on the third floor, she noticed the truck when she arrived. 

“And he was inside it?” Y/N asks. 

“Yeah but she couldn’t see him because of the tint,” he explains. 

“So how did she know he was inside the truck?” Aaron asks. 

“She said the window was cracked, the occupant was smoking,” he explains further. 

Rossi perks right up, “I don’t suppose your people found any cigarette butts?” 

Feder looks as though he didn’t even think to look, causing Rossi to head over to the vacant spot across from Costella’s and start to look. “What time did the tech get in?” Rossi asks. 

“10 am,” Feder answers. 

“7 hours… a proper addict could kill a while pack in that time,” Rossi mutters to himself, squatting down with his pen in hand, he pushes around a couple balled up, yellow, pieces of paper. “Did you ever smoke?” He asks the group. 

“I used to do a lot of things,” Y/N answers, honestly. 

“I bet you never did this,” he taps the ground. 

“He field stripped it,” Aaron notices. 

“What is that?” Y/N asks, having not heard the term before, or at least not remembering what it meant. 

“Something they teach soldiers to avoid leaving traces in the field,” Quinn explains. 

“They squeeze out the filter and then ball up the surrounding paper,” Rossi gives a more detailed explanation. 

“Okay so our guy could be ex-military?” Y/N proposes. 

Feder takes out some tweezers and an evidence bag, “I’ll get some DNA on this. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s in our system.” 

“If he’s military, why would he choose a truck as his weapon?” Quinn asks. 

“Maybe he drove a tank?” Feder shrugs. 

“That’s a good question,” Rossi assures Quinn, ignoring Feder. “Using a vehicle on the open road is one thing, but this is close quarters.”

“Yeah, the truck is loud and draws attention. Plus he risked rendering in inoperable,” Y/N adds. 

“That doesn’t make any sense?” Quinn is a ball of confusion now. Shaking his head, he just wants this to be over with. He wants answers now. He’s not used to the chase in a small town like this. 

“It makes sense to him. He needs to kill this way,” Aaron says and then takes a deep breath, dropping his shoulders, he places his hand on Quinn's arm. “We’ll figure out why.” 

Reid comes running up the ramp then. Rounding the corner, he’s out of breath already but he has news. “Guys!” They all turn to him. “I think I figured out what connects these victims.” 

He explains it once on their walk back to the SUV and then again at the station, filling in JJ and Derek this time as well. “All the victims drove red, two-door coupes.”

“Don’t you think that could be a coincidence?” Quinn asked, not fully sold. 

“It’s statistically significant,” Spencer says, sassy as ever in his own Spencer way. 

“We haven’t been able to find any other common denominators,” JJ adds. 

“if the unsub is targeting people because of their cars, then his initial contact with them would’ve been on the road,” Hotch explains in a way Quinn would better understand. 

“Exactly,” Spencer nods, giving him a small smile to say thank you. 

“I spoke to the families about the victim's daily car travel— how they got to work, the gym,” JJ points to the board, showing the different coloured pins for the different victims and the routes they took. 

“There’s one road all the victims had in common,” Spencer points out. 

Three pins are along one highway. The same highway Shannon Makely was murdered on. 

“Route seven.” Quinn knows all too well what that road is like and they can tell by the look on his face. 

“That means something to you?” Hotch asks, staring him down, he’s talked to the man enough to know whatever he was about to say wasn’t good news. 

“Maybe we should take a drive.” 

—

It doesn’t take long to drive out there, maybe 20 minutes? Quinn pulls over onto the side of the road and puts his safety blinkers on. They get out together and he walks them over to the side of the cliff. There’s about a 200-meter drop from where they are standing down to a clearing of trees.

Spencer gets close to the edge, looking down while Aaron stays back further. He’s not terrified of heights but he knew what was good for him. 

“Anyone living outside bend who commutes toward Eugene, uses Route 7. It’s the most dangerous stretch of highway in the state,” Quinn explains. “They call it suicide seven.” 

Along the roadside there are white crosses, the kind you see on the side of the road in the middle of no where to mark where an accident took place. Either drunk driving or mechanical trouble, swerving into the wrong lane after not enough sleep or black ice in the middle of winter that sends you spinning out… there’s way too many in this little section of highway for them not to find it suspicious. 

“These crosses represent accidents?” Spencer asks, filling in the blanks in his building theory. 

“Fatalities. The fire chief put them up to remind drivers to be careful,” Quinn explains, monotoned and expressionless. 

Aaron could tell he hated this part of the job. He would too. 

“Two lanes, no dividers, I’m assuming there’s a lot of head-on collisions?” 

“Either that or they go off the side,” Quinn says, letting out a deep breath and walking away from the edge. 

“Reid you mentioned the possibility of a physical limitation, something that kept the unsub from attacking in a traditional way?” Aaron asks him. 

“I was talking about impotence but we ruled out sexual motivation,” he reminds him. 

“What if he’d been involved in a crash?” 

“On this road…” Spencer starts to nod, putting more pieces together, Aaron could tell it was starting to make sense to not just himself now. “If the unsub is disabled it explains why he uses a truck— it gives him power, mobility…” 

“But what?” Aaron asks, wanting him to explain everything going on inside his genius mind. 

“The idea that he’s avenging his own physical suffering speaks to a victim mentality that’s inconsistent with the profile,” Spencer explains, puzzled by this piece. 

He thinks back to the conversation he had last night with Y/N. How he’d want her by his side if someone important to him died. He didn’t bring it up then, but if he ever lost her. If Y/N ever died… he’d never be okay again. He never once understood why these men were able to kill so easily and then he fell in love again. Harder than ever before. He would kill for her if he had to. 

“Then maybe it’s not just about his own suffering,” Aaron hypothesizes. “What if he got hurt in an accident that took a loved one? His wife or child, or both?” 

“We’ve had a few cases like that on this highway,” Quinn nods, “I can get the guys back at the station to start pulling files of men who survived while their family didn’t.” 

“Broaden that to women and children who died with husbands who weren’t in the car,” Spencer asks. “He could also have been disabled in combat and come home to his family dead, I doubt it but it's still good to add to the search.” 

“Good idea,” Aaron agrees. 

When they get in the car this time, he feels a little less easy. Turning around, doing a U-turn on this scary patch of road, it made his stomach uneasy. He was never good at being in the car when someone else was driving. He’s old enough now to know a life of having his licence longer than being without it. He hated giving that control away, unless it was with Y/N or Dave and even Derek.

—

When they get back they have just an hour to prep the final profile and before they get in front of the station and local reporters, Aaron pulls Y/N aside. He steals a hug and a kiss from her.

“What was that for?” 

“Cause I can,” he says, just holding her closer. He rubs his hand up and down her back. “I love you.” 

“You can love me all you want once we catch this guy,” she teases as she pulls away. “Come on, we’ve got a profile to give.” 

He knows she’s right, he shouldn’t be doing this here, in a random back corner of the office where no one can see them. He should be prepping with the others, but he couldn’t help it. 

He follows her back towards the others, his smile fades and he puts his stern and serious look back on. It was hard being happy and in love while around such horrible things all the time, but he found a way to make it work. When they get back to the table, the whole station has gathered and a few reporters from the next town over are there too, waiting and ready for the team to start talking. 

“As we speak, this profile and a description of the unsubs truck are being released to state and national media,” Aaron explains, standing with the others in front of the crowd. 

“In addition to what we already know, we believe the unsub is ex-military, most likely army or marines,” Spencer speaks next. 

Y/N takes a half step forward, “We also believe he’s physically handicapped.” 

“Form combat?” One of the officers asks. 

Aaron shakes his head, “most likely from an automobile accident.” 

“An accident that may have occurred along route 7, where the unsub finds his victims,” Y/N adds. 

“And that has something to do with why he’s going after red coupes,” Quinn says, sitting with the rest of his station but still in the loop more than the others. 

“We believe that he holds the driver of a comparable vehicle responsible for his accident,” Spencer explains further. 

“And this person is the object of his rage, but unable to confront them, he’s taking revenge against a surrogate,” Aaron makes it absolutely clear that these victims didn’t hurt the unsub first, they just remind him of the person who did. 

“These boxes contain accident reports uh, from a strip of route 7 between Bend and Eugene. There’s about 5 years worth, we’re going to need everyone you can spare to comb through them,” Y/N says, taking the lid off of one of the boxes. 

“We’ve also compiled a list of local rehabilitation facilities where the unsub may have gone to recover. Use the profile as you canvas these places,” Spencer adds. 

“Remember we’re looking for a white male in his early 40s, former military who may have sustained serious injury in a car accident,” Aaron makes the final summary and then disburse. 

He reaches for the TV remote and then, turns it up to hear JJ on the local news giving the same report. 

“Though only owners of red coupes have been targeted, at this point, we’re asking all the driving public to be vigilant on the road. If you know anyone who fits this description please contact the Bend Police Department immediately. Thank you.” 

While JJ is on the news, Derek and Dave have split off two canvases a few different facilities and ask questions. Y/N is about to leave to hit up a few more with Agent Feder, which leaves Aaron with Spencer to go over everything else and wait for calls. So far nothing serious has come from the lines, mainly people saying they’ve seen reckless red coupes on that road or saying their neighbour has that kind of car, but nothing substantial. 

When JJ comes back she weeds through the emails from the news station, some people have contacted the news instead of the police because they want their 5 seconds of fame if they got the suspect right. So far almost everyone just knows someone with a black truck, nothing about a disabled man or even licence plate numbers to back their theories up. 

And then they get a walk-in. 

“Hotch,” JJ comes over to hear him. “This guy walked in, his name is Gil Bonner.” 

“What’s his story?” He asks. 

“It’s about the unsubs accident he says it’s his fault,” she says, scratching the back of her head and looking as though she doesn’t know if she can believe him or not. 

Aaron stands right up and follows her over to the man with Spencer in tow, he shakes his hand and introduces himself as the head of the investigation, making him follow them into another room to talk privately. “Tell us the story from the beginning.” 

He sits down and stares at the wall for a moment. “It was late and I had spent all day in Eugene with my mom, she’d been sick… I should’ve been driving, but I just wanted to get home to see my little girl. And it was darker than usual. I remember the moon, it was just a sliver. Right outside the Cascades, my phone started vibrating. When I went to reach for it, I knocked it off the far side of the seat and it fell down by the door and I thought I could reach.” 

He gets teary-eyed explaining it all, he can’t meet their eyes for worry they’d look at him like a monster. He’s so filled with shame, he’s been holding this story in for such a long time that recalls it like a folktale. 

“You took your eyes off the road,” JJ says in the most sympathetic tone, talking to him like a teacher or a friend. Trying to make sure he can trust them. 

“It could’ve been for more than a few seconds, but when I looked back up there were lights and this horn was blaring and I swerved at the last second and I just… kept on going,” he explains. “Without a scratch?” 

“You’d gone into the oncoming lane?” Hotch asks, trying to better understand. 

The man just nods. 

“What happened to the other vehicle?” Spencer asks. 

“That’s the thing,” he whispers, brows furrowed, he’s trying his hardest to think back to the exact things that happened that night but the sleep deprivation from that night and the time that’s passed make it hard. “It was in my rearview mirror and then it was gone. Vanished!” 

“Why didn’t you stop?” Aaron asks, there is no way he wouldn’t stop if this was him. 

“It didn’t seem real,” he explains, still not able to look at him. 

“You’re saying you just pretended it didn’t happen?” JJ asks. 

“I guess if you tell yourself something for long enough… You can make anything true,” he says, trying his best not to break down. The guilt is eating him alive. 

“Well you’re here now,” Aaron assures him that it’ll be okay. “Tell us about the other vehicle.” 

“It was the truck you’re looking for.” 

“How do you know that?” Aaron needs him to be as sure as possible. 

“When I saw the news… it all made sense,” he explains. “It’s come back for revenge.” 

They all look at each other, concerned for this man. He’s speaking as if the truck is a ghost and it’s looking for him not that there's a killer out there using this accident as a reason to kill. 

“When did the accident happen?” JJ asks, bringing him back to the real issue. 

“December ’07,” he spits right back, knowing it exactly. “The second Saturday.” 

Spencer quickly reads over the report in his hand, “There were no accidents reported in December of 2007.” 

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Thats— no??”

“Maybe you have your dates wrong?” Aaron sympathizes, it was a long time ago and he was under stress. Dates blur in times like these. 

“Could’ve been November?”

“Uh, memories are kinda like puzzle pieces,” Spencer explains. “And it’s-it’s quite possible that in suppressing these for so long, you’ve sort of rearranged things?” 

He breaks down then, shaking his head. 

“How long was your mother sick?” Aaron asks, maybe this will get them closer to the real date. 

“5 months,” he knows that for a fact. When it comes to sick relatives, to losing a loved one, you don’t forget that. “She… she died in January. That much I know.” 

They let him stay in the room to calm down as long as he needs to but Aaron and Spencer leave. They head back to the table silently and then they both sigh as they take their seats. 

“I feel bad for the guy,” Spencer shares. 

Aaron nods, “I remember when my mother died, she was sick for a few years before. I remember it like it was yesterday… hopefully JJ and Garcia can pull some hospital records and we can pinpoint when the moon was like that in the later months of 2007.” 

“Maybe the others will come back with something from the rehab facilities that we can cross references with him,” Spencer agrees. 

“I hope they come back soon,” Aaron says with his small voice. 

“It’s strange you know? We’ve been a team for years and I’ve been beside Derek almost every day since the start and now when he’s partnered off doing something without me, it feels like I haven’t seen him in ages,” Spencer sympathizes with him. 

“It is weird,” Aaron agrees. “But it’s also nice loving someone so much that a few minutes apart makes you miss them.” 

He nods, trying not to smile too big, “I’m glad she finally told you, I’ve been waiting for you guys to get together for a year.” 

“I’ve been expecting you and Morgan to get together since 2005,” he teases back. 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s always been into you, from the moment you started he was fascinated in you and you just never picked up on it because his flirting comes off as teasing,” Aaron explains. “Y/N was telling me that when we went to Chicago to help him after he was arrested, you were at his mother's house and she said he always talked about you to them. He’s been in love with you a lot longer than you think.” 

“Oh,” Spencer softens. “I had no idea.” 

He laughs, “we know.” 

“I knew Y/N was into you when we were at the cemetery, right after New York,” he explains. “I have never seen someone yell at you like that.” 

“I know,” he just shakes his head with a smile. “It was a shock for me too.” 

JJ comes rushing from the room then, “Hey, I called Y/N and told her about the crash happening between September ’07 and January ’08, she’s with Derek right now at one of the facilities. Feder got called to another issue somewhere else, but they think they found someone who fits the profile. They’re on their way back now.” 

“Sounds good.”

—

When Y/N and Derek get back they take a seat at the table beside their partners and get Penelope on the line. She’s able to send them over details on this guy from the rehab centre, Ian Coakley and Reid pulls the information about said crash from one of the boxes Y/N brought out earlier that day. 

“Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley, going eastbound on Route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road, and flipped numerous times. No witnesses,” Spencer recounts before laying the file on the table for the others to see. 

“His wife was riding in the passenger seat, she died at the scene,” Y/N adds, heartbroken for them. 

“Coakley survived,” Aaron read from the file. “Paramedics indicated spinal cord injury.” 

“He fractured his T6 and T7 vertebrae,” Morgan says with a sigh, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. 

“Paraplegic,” Aaron nods along. 

“That’s not all, he’s a former light-wheel mechanic in the Army National Guard,” Spencer adds. 

“Did it say anything about a red car?” Quinn asks. 

“No. It says Coakley suffered memory loss after the accident,” Aaron reads from the file. 

“Short-term retrograde amnesia is common after a serious accident,” Spencer confirms. 

“I think it’s safe to say he remembers now,” Rossi shakes his head. 

“Do we have an address?” Aaron asks, wanting to go forward with an arrest. 

“I’m working on it,” Penelope says from the office phone which has been on speaker the whole time. “Okay, the house Coakley and his wife bought was foreclosed on 10 months after the accident.” 

“Well, there’s gotta be a paper trail then?” Spencer jumps the gun. 

“Yeah and that trail leads to a land called nowhere,” Penelope spits back. Typing away. “He cashed some insurance cheques during his stay at Adelman's house but after he left... Zilch." 

“Any relatives he could be staying with?” Aaron asks. 

“No, I tried that,” Garcia explains. “There’s no family in the area. My exquisitely educated guess is he’s either squatting or subletting with cash.” 

“What about his truck?” Rossi asks. 

“He owns a ’79 Dodge D100, he bought it used 10 years ago,” she explains. 

“he’s had to rebuild it several times now, parts can’t be easy to find for a truck that old,” Rossi reminds her. She’s found more people with less before. 

“I smell what you’re cooking agent… Checking auto suppliers in Bend… yeah! Rossi gets a fruit cup with lunch. He’s having the parts drop-shipped through Sid’s Auto and sent directly to an address in southwest Bend,” Penelope explains in her ever-Penelope way. 

“Send us the exact address, let’s gear up,” Hotch says as he starts to stand up. “We’ve got two options, either he’s there or he’s out stalking his next victim, I want the crime scene to be there to search the house regardless of if he’s there and if he isn’t I need unmarked cars canvassed in the surrounding areas so he doesn’t get spooked if he comes back and sees sirens and officers. We’re getting this guy. Today.” 

“I’ve sent it to your phones and the fax machine there at the station,” Penelope explains. “I’ve also emailed the information to the local judge, we should have a warrant ready in the next half hour.” 

“You’re a godsend, Penelope,” Derek reminds her. 

“I know. Be safe, come home to me!” 

“We always do!” Y/N smiles before hitting the end call button and joining the others in getting ready. 

—

Derek is the first one inside, like always, he’s followed by Rossi, then Hotch, Quinn and finally Y/N and a few cops. They clear each room, his garage and his backyard, he’s not there. Just like Aaron suspected. 

“His truck is gone,” Derek says as he comes back in from the garage. 

“Get all the vehicles off the street and start a perimeter,” Rossi orders to the other officers. “If he comes back this way we’ll want to be ready for him.” 

“On it,” they all scatter like flies, leaving the house just as the crime scene unit comes in with Reid and JJ. 

“Rossi,” Derek gets his attention, “you’re gonna want to see this.” 

Rossi follows him out into the garage leaving Y/N and Aaron in Coakley’s kitchen. “I want you guys to search everything, find me any clues as to who he’s going to be getting next, Quinn and I are going to be driving around Route 7 and the reservoir looking for him. Radios work better than phones up here,” he hands Y/N a walkie and then another to JJ and Reid. “Give this one to Dave and Morgan, Call me if you hear anything.” 

“You bet,” JJ gives him a smile and starts getting to work. 

“Hey,” Y/N stops him before he heads out. “Be careful.” 

“I always am.” 

They head out then, Hotch drives this time with Quinn in the driver's seat. He’s a quiet man, he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and he could do without small talk. Aaron liked that about him. So far they’ve only talked about the case and similar ones like it, he’s asked questions about if they’ve seen anything like this before and about the other team members but that’s about it. 

So needless to say, he’s shocked when he brings up Y/N. 

“You two been together long?” He asks. 

“Hm? Oh, me and Agent Y/L/N? A while now, yeah,” he tries not to smile. 

“She’s nice, smart too,” he compliments. 

Aaron just nods, “She’s amazing.” 

They’re quiet again for a while, the radio on low and Quinn hums along. He looks out the window and points out every black truck they see but none of them have the License plate they’re looking for, but they know he’s out there. 

They get a radio in from Morgan about 15 minutes into the drive, Coakley had photos of previous vics and one man they haven’t seen before. Garcia traced his licence plate and Derek took Y/N over to the guy's house to ask where he is. He’s on a bike ride, headed towards the reservoir. They have this man's bike path mapped out and are chasing him.

“Hotch, we’re on Route 26 heading towards the reservoir, I think we’re about halfway around the loop. So far, no sign of him,” Y/N radios through. 

“Copy that. We’re headed southbound on 20. Hopefully, we can hit route 26 before they fly by,” Aaron radios back. 

He speeds up, zooming along the old country roads, dust flying behind his tires. He’s careful around the edges, hyper-vigilant that this is a scary road and he’s not the only one on it. 

The next radio in is from JJ. “Hotch, you know how Coakley was driving his wife’s car on the night of the accident?” 

“I remember.” 

“It was a red coupe,” she explains. 

“Are you sure?” He can’t believe it. 

“We have pictures,” she says, completely positive. 

Hotch looks at Quinn carefully and then back to the road, Quinn holds his own radio to his mouth, “What does it mean?” He asks. 

“Maybe there was no other car on the road?” JJ hypothesizes. 

“Think about it, the make and model of his target car keeps changing,” Y/N chirps in from her end. 

“Like he knows they aren’t right,” Hotch adds. 

“And his doctor at the rehab facility called it fluid memory but what if it was more than that?” 

“So if it’s a single car accident—

“It was Coakley's fault,” Y/N cuts off Quinn. “He was driving back from Napa Valley that night. That’s a long drive.” 

“Fell asleep at the wheel,” Quinn can fill in the blanks himself. He’s heard it all before. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“The guilt of that would be overwhelming. The truth, almost impossible to take,” Y/N adds. 

“So he’s projecting blame?” Aaron asks, corroborating his theory. 

“A red coupe did cause the accident, and he was driving it,” Y/N assures him he’s right. 

They reach route 26 then, tyres squeal as he takes a turn and then he gets right back up to speed. Aaron follows the winding path and from his elevation, he can see the truck chasing a group of bikers as they come up the hill. There’s an intersection coming up, the bikers are already heading through it as Aaron goes even faster, hitting 120mph now, he’s going to meet Coakley at the intersection. 

“HANG ON!” 

Aaron smacks right into the front end of Coakley’s truck as the bikers get away without a scratch. The airbags deployed, they get ditched and the ringing in his ears comes back. He can’t move from his seat, he can barely open both eyes, and he knows he’ll be diagnosed with a concussion as soon as he’s seen by someone but he doesn’t care. 

By the time he’s able to get out of the vehicle, it’s too late. The truck has backed up and he’s about to head off after the bikers once more. But Quinn draws his weapon and starts to talk to him anyway. 

“You can’t blame other people for what you’ve done Coakley!” 

That’s not going to work. 

“Detective!” Aaron yells from his seat. 

“You know the truth! No one else needs to die,” he continues. 

“It’s not going to help!” Aaron tries to get him to stop. 

“There was no other red car, was there?” He finally says, making Coakley snap back into reality. 

These cases end in 1 of two ways. Either kill themselves or get the cops to do it for them. 

Aaron unclips his seatbelt and starts trying to get out but there’s too much damage to the front end of the SUV. His door won’t budge. Coakley is starting his truck back up and he’s about to get away so he pushes harder on the door. It pops open just as Coakely speeds off. 

Y/N, riding with Derek, sees Aaron leaning against the SUV and the blood on his face. She jumps out of the car before it even comes to a halt while Aaron shouts, “Go! Go!!” Making Derek keep chasing him. 

“Aaron Hotchner!” She scolds him, “What the fuck was that?” 

“Oh, don’t start with me,” he waves her off, heading back to the crashed SUV to talk to Detective Quinn.

“You do this all the time!” She yells at him, following him over. “You put yourself in harm's way and you get hurt and then you get pissy that you can’t go back to work right away. Maybe if you stopped putting yourself in the middle of shit—

He turns back to her in the middle of her rant, “I get it! I’m an idiot! But at least those bikers are still alive!” 

“Thank god for that!” She yells right back. “It's not like we need you to stay alive too.” 

“What is your problem? I’m clearly alive right now?!”

“This time.” That’s all she says. She turns around and starts walking away, up the hill and towards where Derek and all the cops drove. 

She makes him feel bad, but at the same time, he’d do it again. His job isn’t to protect and serve, it’s to profile and track down killers. That’s it. He should know that by now… but it doesn’t stick. He’s never been just a normal cop, Derek has, so his instincts aren’t always questioned. It’s ingrained in him. The team brushes it off and sometimes Aaron has to give him a talk. 

No one ever gives Aaron the talk. Except Strauss, sometimes she gets on his ass but it’s never got a good reason. 

Having someone he loves so much, who loves Him so much, yell at him… that’s new. And he doesn’t like it. 

—

Y/N has her own room key, she leaves the precinct before the others and heads to their room so that she doesn’t have to talk to Aaron or see him anymore. She’s still so mad at him. He knows it too. 

He arrives at the hotel later on, slowly but surely, he shows up after she’s already changed and sitting in the middle of her own bed. Making it clear to him that he can have the other. She’s in the one furthest from the door, on what is usually his side so that she’s extra far away from him when he gets in. 

“Hey,” he says with his safest voice, watching as she simply raises her brows to acknowledge him and then goes back to her book. She sighs, a huff of air leaves her nose and she’s biting her tongue, She clearly wants to say something but doesn’t. 

He drops his bags on the floor, kicks off his shoes, tosses his suit jacket onto the free bed and slowly makes his way over to her bed, sitting on the edge with his ankle locked under his other knee. He cocks his head to the side and stares softly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Okay.” 

“I mean it. I just get so caught up with these guys that I forget that you’re right behind me and you’re watching and everything I do has consequences that you have to deal with, too,” he explains, trying to be as genuine as humanly possible. He wants her to believe him. 

“Did you at least get it checked out?” She asks, softening a bit. 

He nods and points to the bandage on his forehead, “No concussion and my ear is okay. My chest might bruise up from the seatbelt and this little cut will heal in a day or two, but other than that, I’m okay.” 

She nods then too, getting a little choked up. “I can’t lose you. I just got you. I never thought it would happen, Aaron. I thought you loved your ex-wife still and my little crush would end up suffocating me until I moved units. I didn’t think you’d ever love me back and to see you get hurt again after everything we’ve gone through just triggered me a little.” 

“It’s okay,” he quickly gets up and sits closer to her, pulling her in for a hug. He rubs her back and kisses the top of her head. “I love you so much I’m never going anywhere. I’m not saying I won’t get hurt again, I can’t see the future, but I’m going to try and stop putting myself in the middle of things.” 

“You promise?” She whispers, tossing the blanket away so she can crawl into his lap. She cups his face as she sits down on him. “Please?” 

He nods, “I promise, sweetheart. I’m not going to put myself in the middle of this shit anymore.” 

“So we won’t have screaming matches in the middle of the woods anymore?” She teases. 

He smirks, “Not unless you want to.” 

She manages to laugh, dragging her hands down to his tie, she starts to undo it. “I mean… it was pretty hot. I like when you’re angry, every time I’ve seen you put someone in their place I get a little hot and bothered, so it was strange having you yell at me for a change.” 

“When you yelled at me that first time, in the cemetery,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “I had to go back to the car because being a little high and in pain… and then getting yelled at like that…” 

“Seriously?” Her jaw drops and she looks at him like she’s starving.

He nods again, “You’re hot when you’re in charge.” 

She just smirks, pulling his tie off, and she keeps unbuttoning his shirt. She pulls it out of his suit pants, finishes off the buttons, and then runs her hands over his chest. Through the sprinkling of chest hair, she feels him up, “I thought our first time would be more slow and sweet and cute… but now I want to get all bossy and make you fuck the shit out of me.” 

“Make me?” He chuckles, “Really?” 

“Yeah,” she teases. She leans in and kisses his cheek, “I think,” and then his jaw, “You should,” and down his neck,  “fuck me,” her kisses go lower, “‘n show me how sorry you are.” 

Her hands now roaming around to his back, over his hips and over his bulge. He basks in it, already getting hard underneath her from just the memory of her wrath. She keeps kissing down his chest until he cups her face and brings her in to kiss her on the lips. He’s kissed her a million times by now but it’s still so exciting. The way she melts against him, the feeling of her tongue against his, the way she slightly whines when his hand starts to move down to her neck and his thumb caress her jaw.

“Mm,” she mumbles as she pulls away. “Can we—“ he steals another few kisses. “Too many—“ more kisses. “Clothes. Need you.” 

He lets her pull back enough just to look at him, both catching their breaths, “You have me.” 

She reaches for the hem of her shirt and he stops her, taking it in his grip instead he begins to lift it over her head. Arms in the air, he gets it up as much as he can from this sitting position and they laugh when she gets trapped inside her shirt and has to help him pull it all the way off. She tosses it to the side and then rests her hands back on his chest, gently running her fingertips down to his belly button, she starts to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops. 

He kisses her again and again and again until she starts to grind against him, wanting more. He cradles her body and carefully starts to sit up on his knees, laying her back down against the mattress. He hovers over her and kisses her jaw and down her neck, trailing his hands down her sides until he reaches her shorts and he pulls back just so he can get them off her. 

She helps him get them off and sits up on her own knees to kiss him while she pushes his shirt off his shoulders. He blindly flings it to the floor and she reaches down to unbutton his suit pants and reach her hand in there. Between his pants and his boxers, she cups his length and starts to rub. His hands land on her shoulders, smoothing down the warm skin of her back he pulls her in flush against him and slightly moans into her mouth. Her free hand comes up to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him as close as possible. 

She smiles into the kiss, he simply bites her lip as he pulls away. He takes a peak between their bodies to see her boobs pressed against his chest, “you gonna let me go so I can take these pants off?” 

She leans in and steals another kiss, “Mmm, maybe,” she kisses him again and again. “Just hurry up about it.” 

He’s quick to get off the bed and push both his pants and his underwear off, he even pulls off his socks and leaves them all behind in the pile of discarded things. She’s sat there, leaning back with her hands flat on the mattress, she looks him up and down and then her eyes stay fixed on his cock. 

“Like what you see?” He teases her, he grips her ankles and tugs her to the edge of the bed. 

She’s a bit shocked, laughing it off, she grips his sides and stares up at him, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He hauls her to her feet, cups her cheeks and he smiles. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she smiles back. “Are you nervous?” 

He nods, “Just a little. It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve had sex…” 

“We’ll its been a lot longer than that for me and I’m almost positive that sex hasn’t changed that much in that time,” she teases. “I love you and I trust you, so I know it’ll be good.” 

He kisses her once quickly, “just good?” He kisses her again, the side of her mouth this time. He starts to kiss down her neck, over her collarbones and he cups her boobs so he can smother them in kisses too. Eventually starts to kneel, taking his kisses lower, he starts to take her panties off, kissing her lower stomach and then he looks up at her. “Sit down, let me show you how good I can be.” 

She sits on the edge of the bed, he spreads her legs and kisses from her left knee all the way down her thigh and then her lower lips. He spreads them with his fingers and licks a stripe over her cunt, making her gasp as she reaches out to grip his hair at the root.

She holds back her pretty little noises, and as much as he wants to tell her to go wild, he knows JJ is just past that wall in her own room. From all the teasing Derek and Spencer get, she wasn’t going to be loud enough to be added to the relentless jokes her coworkers make. 

He teases her hole with his middle finger, feeling how wet she already is, he circles around the opening a few times before plunging his finger inside. 

“Fuck,” he groans against her, flicking his tongue back and forth, sucking at her skin and fingering her cunt all at the same time. “You taste like heaven.”

She grinds against his face, barely sitting on the edge of the bed anymore as he wraps his arm around her legs and holds her impossibly close to his mouth. The sound of him eating her out is disgustingly euphoric, he’s so deep it’s like he’s eating her out in search of her soul.

She’s trembling as she gets closer and closer when he stops fingering her, sucking the wetness from her and bringing it back up with his tongue before he sucks on her clit again. That does it, she cums instantly with a shout, covering her mouth and hoping he doesn’t let her hit the floor as she grinds and thrashes through her orgasm. And he doesn’t stop, tongue fucking her to taste the best part. 

Her feet touch the floor, and her back is the only part of her still on the bed as she rides his face through it. He pulls back and lets her drop down to the floor and sit in his lap but his "old man" knees are starting to hurt like this, she goes to kiss him and he lets her get a few kisses in before he holds her closer and starts to stand with her. He pulls away just enough to turn her around and push her against the mattress, he kisses her spine and folds himself over her. He moves her hair off her back and kisses her neck. Again, right under her ear, “Are you ready?” 

“Please, please,” she begs. “I need you.” 

“I might have a condom in my—

“Don’t need it, I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” she assures him. 

“Are you—

“Aaron, fuck me, please,” she begs, sticking her ass out even more, taunting him. 

He stands up straighter and grips his leaking cock, tapping it on her ass a few times before guiding it between her folds. Teasing her, he grinds the head against her clit a few times before aligning with her hole and starting to push in, inch by inch, she gasps at the feeling and sucks in a sharp breath the deeper he gets. 

He folds over her as soon as he bottoms out, kissing her shoulder gently as he reaches out for her hand on the mattress. He interlocks their fingers, holding her hand above her head, he’s as close to her as humanly possible and yet he wants to be closer. He wants to live in her, settle in right beside her soul and never leave. 

When he starts to thrust, he goes slowly at first, she reaches back behind herself and rests her hand on his side. Her nails dig into his skin and she whines, “Oh my god, Aaron.” 

He kisses her neck and right under her ear, “Can you feel how sorry I am now?” He slightly pulls out and snaps his hips against her then, fucking her quick and dirty.

“Yes, yes! Oh my god, we should get mad at each other more often,” she all but screams, slightly muffled by her face against the mattress. 

He pulls away, letting go of her hand so he can rest his on her lower back as he fucks her harder. She brings her one leg up onto the mattress, opening herself up so he can get a little deeper. He grips her leg under the knee and keeps going, harder and more frequent thrusts, making her gasp and moan into the mattress to try and stay quiet but she can’t. It feels too good for her. 

For him, it’s even better. The way she sucks him in, how warm she is, how wet she is… she’s even better than he ever imagined and he never wants it to end. But he misses her face. He wants to embrace her and hold her close and make love to her, not just fuck her. So he pulls out. 

“wha—

“Roll over. Move up,” he instructs her, kneeling on the bed, he watches her do just that and gets between her legs. He hovers over her, leaning in for a kiss as she reaches between them and guides him back inside. 

Kissing her as he trusts, their lips move together and their tongues clash through breathy moans and whispers of “I love you.” Her legs wrapped around him, her arms around his middle, her nails dug into his back as she kneaded at his skin. 

He reaches between them, his hand on her pelvis and his thumb starts to circle around her clit. He wants her to be as close as he is, he wants them to cum together. He wants her to enjoy this as much as he was, and from the way she clenches around him and the cute little noises she makes, he knows she is. 

“Oh, Aaron,” she whines, tossing her head back. 

He kisses her cheek and buries his head in the crease of her neck as he drives into her over and over. He starts to smile to himself, thinking about how she said sex hasn’t changed that much since the last time he had it… But he’s never had sex as good as this. It was never this passionate, never this needy, never this euphoric. 

He bites her gently, grazing his teeth along her skin, making her gasp. He wants to suck at her neck, cover her in marks, and let everyone in the world know he’s been there and she belongs to him. He feels so possessive. He knows he can’t. They have to sit on the jet in front of their friends for most of their morning and well into the afternoon tomorrow and if they’re unlucky, start another case right after. He can’t mark her the way he wants. But he can make her his in another way… 

“You close?” He asks, prepared to hold back if she isn’t. 

But she nods enthusiastically, “god, yeah.”

Through bated breath he asks, just to make sure, “Are you still okay with me finish—

“Yes, yes, please, cum in me?” She begs. “I need it, Aar, please?” 

“I got you,” he assures her. “Let go, sweet girl, whenever you’re ready.” 

His trusts stay steady and even, his thumb circles her clit, and he kisses just under her ear. She grips him so tight, wrapped around him like her life depended on it and her breathing changes. He knows she’s right there and he’s going to be right after. He wants to feel the way her orgasm sucks him in deeper, the way she pulsates around him, the way her body goes limp and quakes and the beautiful sounds she’ll make before he gives in. He already got a taste of that earlier, but now he wants to memorize it with his cock deep inside of her. 

She starts to quake then, her thighs rumble against him. Her back starts to arch, pushing her core closer to him instinctually like this is what she was made for. Her orgasm is right there, bubbling to the top and about to spill. He gives her one last piece of motivation. 

“Come on, cum for me,” he whispers. “Be a good girl and— oh, there it is!” He teases as she releases. 

He was right. She clenches around him, pulling him in even deeper. He moves his hand away from her clit, wraps them around her back and starts to fuck her even harder, making her cry out over and over, completely disregarding the fact that her coworker is in the next room. He’s so close, right there, he moves to kiss her on the mouth again and she cups his face as he does so. Breathing while kissing her, his hot breath on her face as their lips and tongues meet once more. 

His body heats up, his stomach starts to feel like a swarm of butterflies and then it erupts through his bloodstream. He cums with a deep groan, dropping his forehead against hers, he fucks into her once more and stays there as rope after rope of cum releases inside of her. 

“I love you,” he pants, collapsing on top of her, holding her back just as close as she’s holding him. “I love you so much.” 

—

On the jet in the morning, everyone sat down with their coffee and quiet. Dave has a manuscript for his new book to proofread. Derek has his music. Spencer has some medical journals he finds interesting and JJ has a big smile on her face. “You guys will never guess how long the couple in the room beside me was fucking last night.” 

He watches as Y/N’s eyes widen and the colour leaves her face. He just bites his tongue, pressing his lips together he flips through a file, pretending not to hear her. 

“How long?” Derek asks. 

Just as she goes to answer Spencer speaks up, “Weren’t you beside Y/N and Hotch…” 

“I hate you guys, I hate you so much,” Y/N finally bursts out. She shook her head, mortified. “I can’t believe you. I can’t. Seriously?” 

They all laugh, Spencer and Derek are relieved that they’re not the only ones to get embarrassed now and JJ is just happy she’s the one to get to start the teasing this time after a year and a bit of being teased about Will. 

“I can write you all up, remember?” Aaron reminds them, trying so hard not to smirk but he fails. He knows he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. He had the best sex of his life last night, he’s allowed to glow a bit. 

They shut up after that but Spencer does reach his hand over, palm facing Y/N, and she gives him a reluctant high five. 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans 

IKP

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[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Walking Hand In Hand

Day 27 of Flufftober and the prompt is Afternoon Stroll. I hope you enjoy and you can read it on Ao3.

Eddie Diaz was holding Evan Buckley’s hand.

Their hands fitted together perfectly in a way that Buck had thinking that maybe the universe had designed him and Eddie to be perfect for one another. What was the Greek soul mate theory? That Plato had said that humans once had four arms, four legs and two faces. That Zeus had punished them for their pride and split them in half and doomed us to walk the earth searching for their other half.

Their palms had linked up perfectly together, their finger tangled with one another. Their palms were the perfect temperature as they swung lightly between them as they strolled leisurely along the lake.

Buck had the urge to pinch himself to make sure that he was dreaming. His heart kept skipping in his chest with rush after rush of endorphins released though him every time Eddie’s thumb brushed against the sensitive skin on the back of his hand. He felt giddy, like he was a teenager once again trying to kiss a girl for the first time.

His imagination (and yeah, Buck had daydreamed a lot about holding Eddie’ hand recently) had not done the actual action justice. There was something so intimate that came with holding someone’s hand. A small gesture that was soft and meaningful, a small touch that could hold and a ground a person.

Buck had always loved holding hands. He was a tactile person and so holding his partner’s hand while they walked down the street or while they watched a movie made Buck’s insides sing. But hand holding wasn’t for everyone, and Buck had a few partners who didn’t enjoy the act.

But holding Eddie’s hand…Buck never wanted to let go.

A squeeze had Buck dragging his gaze from their fingers to look up at Eddie. His best friend (partner? Boyfriend? Guy he was going out on a first date with?) was already looking back at him, smile soft if not a little concerned.

“You’re deep in thought,” Eddie said softly.

Buck smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No need to be,” Eddie said. “What’s got you thinking so hard.”

Buck lifted their joined hand. “This.”

Eddie looked at their tangled fingers before snapping his gaze back to Buck’s. “Good?”

“Good? Ed’s, no, this is beyond good. This is – you and me – this is the best hand holding I’ve ever done!”

Eddie laughed, though not unkindly. His cheeks were flushed pink and there was a pleased smile on his lips. “Yeah?”

Buck scoffed. “If hand holding were an Olympic sport, we’d have gold.”

“Good to know we have something fall back on after once we retire from firefighting,” Eddie teased, lowering their hands so they swung between them again.

“Did you know that in 2004 over five million people held hands to form a human chain. It was 652.4 miles long,” Buck said.

Eddie blinked. “Really?”

Buck nodded. “It spanned from Teknaf to Tentulia, Bangladesh.” An irrational thought popped into Buck’s head. “Not – not that I want to be holding anyone five million people’s hands. I only want to hold yours.”

 Eddie squeezed Buck’s hand, giving him a soft smile. “I know.”

Buck let out a nervous breath. “Your hand fits perfectly.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it,” Eddie said softly.

Buck tripped at the look of adoration that Eddie gave him. Eddie’s hand tightened around Buck’s, steadying him as he got his feet back under him. Buck felt his cheeks flush hot, and he glanced to see if Eddie had noticed. The other man had, of course, but the expression from his face hadn’t changed.

“You okay there?”

Buck groaned softly. “Stopping looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked, head cocking to one side.

Buck swallowed thickly. “Like you love me.”

Eddie hummed under his breath. “Would it be so bad if I did?”

Buck shook his head, making himself dizzy. “God no. Eddie, that would be – that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie stopped them in the middle of the path, tugging Buck so they were facing one another. He took Buck’s other hand in his, holding it tightly as if he was afraid that Buck would run. As if Buck would be running anywhere other than into Eddie’s arms. Didn’t Eddie know that he was a sure thing?

“Evan,” Eddie said, voice low and smooth. “Do you know why I asked you out after our shift?”

Buck gave a half shrug and jokingly said, “You had nothing better to do?”

Eddie’s look was sharp. “No. I asked you out after our shift because I am tired of pretending that I don’t want you to come home with me after every shift. That we are finally in a place where we can be together because we are both emotionally ready.”

Buck swallowed past the thick emotion that had lumped in his throat. Buck had been playing that moment in his mind on repeat ever since the two of them had left the firehouse. Buck had just finished getting dressed when he had turned to see Eddie waiting for him.

“Do you want to get some food with me?” Eddie had asked.

Buck had opened his mouth to suggest their usual post-shift café spot when he had caught the nervous expression on Eddie’s face.

“You know I’m always up for that with you,” Buck had responded truthfully.

Eddie had nodded, his gaze drifting over Buck as if he was seeing him for the first time. “You are, aren’t you.”

Buck hadn’t been quite sure how to respond to that, so he had said nothing. Instead, he had watched Eddie come closer to him, his breath hitching when Eddie stopped right in front of him. Eddie had taken a deep breath, locking eyes with Buck.

“Evan,” Eddie had said softly. “Will you come out with me?”

And Buck had been able to see what Eddie was really asking. Because when had they ever needed words to know what the other was thinking? But this was Eddie and Buck had been hopelessly in love with his best friend for so long he had to be sure.

“On a date?” Buck had asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“On a date,” Eddie had responded firmly. “If you’d like.”

Buck had felt his breath rush out of him. “Yeah, Ed’s. I’d like that.”

Eddie squeezed Buck’s hands, drawing him out of his thoughts and back to the present.

“I asked you,” Eddie continued. “Because I’m done being scared and I’m ready to take our family, the one we have been building for years, to the next level if you are ready.”

“Eddie. I have never been surer of anything in my entire life,” Buck said honestly. “You and Chris are what I have always been looking for and – and we built it together. I’m all in, Eddie. You’re it. My other half.”

Eddie smile was beautiful as he shone the full force of it at Buck.

“Sounds like you love me,” Eddie teased lightly.

“I do,” Buck said, and he didn’t care if it was too soon. He was in love with Eddie Diaz, and nothing had ever felt as good as this did.

“I love you too,” Eddie said, eyes shining. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Buck’s in the softest kiss that had even been placed on Buck’s lips. He pulled back before Buck could really deepen it but he didn’t go far. “We are going to finish our lovely stroll around the lake. Then you’re going to drive us home and we can see where else we fit perfectly together.” He dropped one of Buck’s hands and started tugging him back into a walk.

Buck followed easily, letting Eddie pull him along. “Best first, last date ever.”

Eddie beamed back at Buck and Buck felt like his heart might burst right out his chest. He didn’t take his eyes off Eddie had they continued to walk, not wanting to miss another moment of their forever together. 

[owletstarlet]

patron saint of the lost causes (1/2)

“You can stop looking at him like that.” Taki’s voice is frank, but not unkind. Katsumi could not be less in the mood for whatever the hell kind of conversation this is about to be. “Like what,” he replies anyhow. “Like you broke his best friend."

(For @goodlucktai. You know what you did.

ao3 link | part 2

The thing is, Katsumi really doesn’t want to hear that he couldn’t have known what was going to happen. He knows. Knows because nobody will let him forget it. Knows from his 2AM search history the night after, curled up on his side on a guest futon in the Fujiwaras’ sitting room, feeling pinned down by the blue glow of his phone screen under the duvet.

Here’s how it happens.

***

It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, exactly, to be alone with Tanuma Kaname while walking the forty-five minute round trip between the temple and the combini through nothing but trees and rice paddies and still, thick summer air. Tanuma’s a decent guy. Quiet, thoughtful. And, as he’d made very clear within two minutes of Katsumi meeting him, fiercely loyal.

All good traits, really. But carrying a completely meaningless conversation with someone he honestly doesn’t know all that well doesn’t seem to be within his skill set. And that’s fine, it’s whatever.

It’s just that Katsumi’s starting to feel like a jackass when he’s the only one who’s talking.

School’s been out less than a week, and for some godforsaken reason he’s been talked into coming all the way out to Hitoyoshi by the group chat he’d been added to months ago, for some other godforsaken reason. The conversation had turned to potential vacation plans—the seaside, or a theme park. And it’s not like Katsumi would’ve said no; he’s got a whole month to fill here. But when Tanuma had either hedged or failed to respond altogether, the others had gotten it out of him pretty quickly that the better part of the month both before and after Obon would be full up with temple preparation and events. Apparently, even back when the temple had still stood vacant, some of the locals who had ancestors’ graves out in the crumbling cemetery there would still come out to tidy up as best they could and leave behind their flowers and incense and prayers. This is the second Obon since the temple had reopened, and not only were more visitors expected, but they’d need to be able to properly host them and provide an adequate place of worship.

From just that couple of messages, the others seemed to work out in short order just how overwhelmed he was. Which was news to Katsumi; sure, the guy wasn’t much of a texter, or talker, for that matter—but the messages had just seemed brief, concise, and apologetic.

But when they all show up on the temple doorstep a week later and Katsumi sees the way Tanuma’s shoulders sag with sheer relief, he knows the others were right.

Thus began a multi-day frenzy of scrubbing wood floors, polishing every metal surface within an inch of its life, weeding, dusting, and near-vicious refusals of Tanuma’s father’s offers to compensate them for their efforts. Katsumi certainly wasn’t against the concept of getting paid for busting his ass like this all day, but the man was drowning in paperwork and nonstop phone calls and visitations on top of whatever else it is that priests do all day, so he’d let it drop.

“He really does just radiate that dutiful son energy, huh,” Katsumi says to Kitamoto one day, leaning on a rake and blinking the sweat out of his eyes in the brutal 2PM heat, watching Tanuma pause to tug a crooked, bright red knit cap back into its place on the head of a tiny Jizo statue with endless care. He didn’t mean it as an insult, but it sounds kind of dickish coming out of his mouth anyhow. “Just looking at him is making me tired.”

Kitamoto hums. “That’s part of it,” he says, at length. “But this is his home, too.”

***

Katsumi feels sort of bad that Tanuma has to make this annoyingly long walk just because he himself doesn’t know how to get to the nearest Lawson. He’d lost a fierce, best-of-ten coin flip battle with Nishimura over whose turn it was to pick up snacks. It’s not that it’s a nightmarish distance away considering they’re on the bare outskirts of town, it’s just the late afternoon sun beating down on them that makes him ready to commit  homicide. And most of the way there between the wooded temple grounds and the main residential area is along a dusty gravel road between sunken rice fields, riddled with potholes and not especially worth it to navigate with a bike.

And Lawson isn’t even good.

Precisely none of this is Tanuma’s fault. This is an objective fact that he, of course, knows.

But they’ve only just left the store, and Katsumi ran out of random topics to fill up the stagnant air about ten minutes ago. The best he’s got at the moment, short of intermittent bitching about the heat, is his completely unfounded opinion of some new game he’d seen an ad for at the register which he never intends to play.

And Tanuma doesn’t look especially anxious, or at least not like he’s here under duress or anything—he was the one who volunteered to show Katsumi the way— but he doesn’t look especially comfortable, either. He’s already fished a bottle of tea out of the shopping bag, fiddling with the wrapper between sips and watching the dusty gravel crunch beneath their shoes. His responses aren’t rude, just a little off key, a subdued smattering of ‘oh’s and ‘hm’s and ‘I see’s that don’t always quite sync up with Katsumi’s words, a second too late or too early.  

Maybe it’s the truly ridiculous heat that’s getting to the guy. But he’s drinking his tea, and he’s wearing the same old wet towel he’s had slung around his neck all week, ojiisan style. He’d just re-soaked it again in the little sink outside the combini bathroom. It’s funny, Katsumi thinks, that Tanuma’s such a painfully self-conscious person, but then there’s these odd little things here and there that it doesn’t even seem to occur to him to be self-conscious about at all. He didn’t get out much as a kid, from what Katsumi’s heard. It’d be almost endearing if Katsumi was in any sort of mood to be endeared. As it stands it’s too fucking hot out here and now he kind of wants a stupid neck towel too.

Katsumi doesn’t want to make shit awkward, not when he’s staying in his house. But why had it been somehow easier to talk to Tanuma when they were being chased around some hell-mansion about to be murdered by some ghost-doll-things.

He’s not gonna take it personally. Even with his actual friends, where he seems most at ease, Katsumi’s seen him get fidgety, fingers worrying at a fraying shirt hem or drumming on his knee like he doesn’t always quite know how to physically handle too many eyes on him at once, or so many voices in the room. And more often than not, if one of the others picks up on this, he’s seen them seamlessly take the volume down a notch, give him some room to breathe, a little radius of calm. As though his comfort level is some sort of sixth sense for them all.

And Katsumi’s starting to wonder if running his mouth so that Tanuma wouldn’t have to was really the best course of action here. Maybe silence, comfortable or otherwise, would’ve spared them both.

Hell, too late now.

“…and it’s only available on the newest consoles, because of course it is, and even though Sakatani managed to get his hands on a copy and says he’ll let me play, apparently the graphics are kind of ass, so—uh. You good over there?”

Tanuma’s pinching the bridge of his nose, mouth twisting a little and pace falling a half-step behind Katsumi. He doesn’t really answer, just gives an absent diplomatic little hum like he has done for most of the conversation.

Katsumi stops walking.

“Hey.”

And Tanuma honest-to-god almost shuffles right past him, reaching up to rub at his temple now. He only stops when Katsumi snags the strap of the little freezer bag that he’d brought in a thoughtful yet desperate bid to keep the drinks cold and the tops of Nishimura’s chocorooms from all melting together inside the box. Tanuma blinks hard, like all the dust in the air has gunked up in his eyes.

Katsumi frowns. “Your head hurts?”

Tanuma just blinks again, nods once. The look on his face is strange. Vague, kind of.

Katsumi swears under his breath. “Hey,” he says again, louder, when Tanuma’s gaze slides away and out of focus. He grabs his shoulder, shakes him just enough to get his hazy attention back.

“Is this some youkai thing?” He tries to make the words slow and clear. “’Cause if we need to run…” Their chances wouldn’t be stellar, probably, out in the very-wide-open with no visible houses or people that Katsumi can see, but if they booked it they might make it back to the temple in 20 minutes. Barring being gutted in a rice paddy by invisible monsters.

Tanuma frowns, like he’s trying to grasp at the edges of his focus. “I don’t…”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t think so?” If there were time, Katsumi would feel like an ass for getting in his face and snapping at him. But he can feel Tanuma listing forward where he’s still gripping his shoulder, and he puts another hand under his elbow to steady him. “Should I call someone?”

Blink, blink. Apparently, that was too many questions at once. “…hot,” is what Tanuma finally settles on, in a small voice. Then his knees buckle.

Fuck.

Katsumi just barely manages to keep Tanuma from a total faceplant. He’s not so heavy, but it’s so abrupt that trying to catch him sends Katsumi falling back hard onto his own ass as Tanuma’s knees hit the ground.

Katsumi yelped as they went down, but Tanuma hasn’t made a sound. They’re both on their knees. Katsumi’s got him by the shoulders, and his head’s lolling forward, bumping into Katsumi’s chest.

And, shit. He was not lying. Katsumi can feel the heat rolling off him. He manages to maneuver a hand up to the side of his neck, and very nearly yanks it away, hissing through his teeth.

“Right, so,” he mutters. “Probably not youkai shit, then.”

Probably not doesn’t mean definitely not, though, and even as he’s trying to lower Tanuma fully onto the parched ground, curled onto his side, Katsumi’s fishing out his phone.

One bar. He’ll take it.

He hesitates for a second, torn between dialing Natsume, firing off a group message, or just calling an ambulance. He settles on the first—Natsume’s got the fastest mode of transport, which also happens to be an apparently giant and terrifying monster, if Sensei’s own words are to be believed, so that’s two birds one stone.

He hits Natsume’s name, fingers shaking.

And, dead air. Not even a dial tone.

He swears, checks the screen. Zero bars. A stupid little red x where the bars ought to be.

Goddamn backwoods towns and their goddamn backwoods reception.

“Hey.” He lays a hand on Tanuma’s shoulder. Katsumi can’t see his face, but his breaths are coming short and harsh. “I’m gonna borrow your phone.”

Less than one minute later and he’s given it up. Tanuma’s got the same network carrier, and an older phone to boot. It’s like there’s some fucked-up barricade made of yellowing rice fields, choking air and far-off cicada screeches between themselves and outside human contact.

Well then.

Tanuma’s eyes are open now. Not a lot, but that’s got to be better than passed out. Katsumi manages to work an arm under his shoulders, get his opposite hand under his head and neck. “Let’s get some tea in you,” he says, because he’s not sure what the fuck else to do. He can feel a pulse that’s far too quick thrumming under his fingertips, can see the intense splotchy flush across his cheeks that seems to have crept up out of nowhere. Tanuma doesn’t answer him, just scrunches up his eyes against the direct sun on his face, makes a small pained noise that makes Katsumi feel ill.

Making him drink turns out to be less than an inspired plan. He doesn’t seem to register the tea at first, letting it dribble down his chin, but then after a few slow gulps, he gags. And then proceeds to be sick, all over Katsumi.

“Eh. Didn’t like this shirt, anyways,” Katsumi tells him, hoping to exude literally any emotion other than pure terror, and barely managing to turn Tanuma’s face away in time before he gags again.

By the time he finishes, there’s tears in his eyes, and his breaths are coming ragged and loud. He doesn’t seem to notice that Katsumi’s dug through the combini bag, sliding the 2 liter of mugicha under his head and neck like a pillow, and tucked the bottle of Calpis that Taki had asked for underneath his armpit. The rest of Tanuma’s own bottle he upends over his neck and chest, soaking his towel and the top of his shirt. That, at least, elicits a reaction, a faint confused “hm” that would be perfectly reasonable for anyone whose friend has just drenched them in a bottle of jasmine tea.

It makes Katsumi smile, just a bit. “Gotta cool you down. Sorry.” He’s got no idea if it’s the correct thing to do; he’s based the entire tactic on some random lackluster TV drama he’d seen years ago, where some captain of a school track team overheated during a practice, and her teammates tried to care for her on the field while someone fetched a teacher.

At the very least, it didn’t seem to be hurting. His eyes are open wider now, marginally less clouded over. Katsumi’s positioned him on his side again in case of more puking, his cheek squashed against the tea bottle, and he seems to be focused on some spot on the gravel past Katsumi. He looks like he wants to say something, mouth forming around the shape of words, but nothing comes out.

Katsumi turns. There, lying maybe a half meter away on the ground, is something small and rectangular. Some kind of talisman, Katsumi thinks; it’s made of thin pale wood and covered in some inked-in kanji and symbols he can’t make out. He doesn’t touch it, at first. “This is yours?”

Tanuma nods, just a little, then screws his eyes shut like his head is protesting the movement. But by his side his fingers twitch vaguely in Katsumi’s direction. It must’ve fallen out of his pocket when Katsumi was getting his phone. Katsumi scoops it up and places it in his palm, and Tanuma’s fingers close immediately around it.

He digs his own phone out again, an exercise in futility, and dials 119, resisting the urge to chuck it into the field as the call refuses to connect. It’s not like he couldn’t half-drag, half-carry Tanuma back towards the nearest house if he really needed to, but god knows how long it’d take, and even with his net zero medical expertise it seems like a bad idea to be moving him from this spot unless it’s on a stretcher, or on the back of a giant invisible wolf monster.

Tanuma’s staring at nothing at all again, his knuckles white from gripping the talisman. Katsumi frowns, grabs Tanuma’s wrist.

“You’re gonna break it. The wood’s pretty thin.”

Tanuma, predictably, ignores him. Even as weak as he is, with his thumb digging into the center of the thing, he’s likely to snap it in half.

But he doesn’t, or can’t, resist when Katsumi takes it from him. “Let’s keep this in one piece, huh. We need all the damned luck the gods want to chuck our way right now.” He’s about to slide it safely back into Tanuma’s pocket when he pauses, glancing down at the talisman.

“You’re sure nothing’s about to pop out and eat us, right?”

But Tanuma’s eyes have fallen shut again. He doesn’t seem to have passed out; he’s still gasping like he’s run a marathon.

“Right. Gonna take that as a yes.” He finishes tucking the talisman away, then slides his hand up under Tanuma’s fringe. He frowns. The intense heat, he was expecting. What he was not expecting was the desert-dryness of his skin. Katsumi’s own hair’s been plastered grossly to his forehead all week long, only to poke up and frizz at odd angles throughout the day. He hadn’t noticed earlier because of the damp towel and the tea-soaked shirt, but Tanuma’s not sweating.

He swallows back panic. God knows how he’s got any more panic to spare, really. “Look,” he says, not expecting an answer. “Nobody’s coming, because apparently nobody in this entire fucking town uses this road except us, so I’m gonna get help.” He blows out a breath. “I think we passed a pay phone. Ten minutes ago? Maybe less. I’ll make it five. If you get eaten by monsters while I’m gone and I ran in this weather for nothing I am gonna be pretty damn irritated.”

***

The only coffee the vending machines have, at least on this floor, is some dismal off-brand that only comes black. But Katsumi resolutely ignores the acid roiling in his stomach when Kitamoto passes him one and pops the tab. It’s something to do. Chug coffee, scroll his phone. Rinse, repeat. At least it’s cold.

“Hey.”

Something lands in his lap. A squashed-looking cinnamon roll, another vending-machine offering.

“Eat that too or you’ll puke again, probably,” Nishimura tells him.

Katsumi has to bite back the reflexive dickish retort. Nishimura looks just about as shit as Katsumi feels, but he’s still got it in him to be kind. Katsumi’s got nothing in him but raw nerves and stomach acid, at this point.

“Right,” he mutters. “Thanks.”

There’s not even a good reason anymore for the weird shitty haze over his brain. When Tanuma’s dad had called, just before three AM and only two-ish hours after they’d been forced to leave the hospital last night, the news had been good. He was awake, talking a little, and the fever definitely wasn’t gone but the numbers were creeping back downwards. They’d need a few days, at least, to run some barrage of tests and keep an eye out for lasting damage. Tanuma’s dad had been judiciously vague about just what kind of damage, but the half dozen browser pages on heatstroke currently open on Katsumi’s phone had given him a pretty grim idea.

The Fujiwaras’ house had been closest to the hospital, so they’d spent the remainder of the previous night all sleepless and huddled together on the floor of Natsume’s room. Katsumi hadn’t even put up a fight when they’d dragged his futon into the very center of the room between Kitamoto’s and Natsume’s, when Nishimura had idly flopped his own legs over Katsumi’s, or when Taki pulled up some aggressively cheerful magical girl anime on Natsume’s laptop to fill the dead air. When Sensei had tucked himself in by Katsumi’s hip and gone to sleep. When Touko-san had patted his arm, after their very late dinner, her eyes so gentle it hurt. He’d felt liminal, then, like he’d take off and run if he could just escape his own skin, but at least with the others all squashed up against him he could remember to breathe.

It's past 10 in the morning now. Visiting hours had started at 9, and they’d all piled on the first scheduled bus towards the hospital this morning and arrived before 8, anyhow. They had, of course, not been allowed to step foot out the door without a bag loaded up with bento lunches and a firm promise to Touko-san they’d be back by late afternoon when visiting hours had concluded to get some rest. Though she’d been saying something about “getting some things ready” to bring over herself for Tanuma and his dad, and based on the look on her face when she’d said it Katsumi’s half expecting her to march through the waiting room doors in the next hour or two like a woman on a mission with half the contents of the closest supermarket and drugstore loaded up in her arms. The thought makes his chest feel tight.

But they’d shown up just in time to be informed that Tanuma had an MRI among other things scheduled that morning, and that no, they did not know how long it would take.

Across from Katsumi, Natsume’s dozed off, despite his own best coffee-fueled efforts. He’s slumped sideways onto Taki, lank-haired and restless, flicking through an old magazine with disinterest as her heel bounces on the scuffed linoleum. Sensei’s perched across both their laps, still absurdly half-stuffed into the duffel bag in which they’d smuggled him through the hospital doors, which seems pretty pointless to Katsumi if he’s just going to sit there with his entire head sticking out at this point. But he seems entirely unbothered, his eyes closed; maybe asleep, maybe not. But they’re the only ones tucked over in this little alcove of a waiting room, and damn if not a soul has interrupted them for a good two hours.

It’s probably for the best that Natsume’s getting some sleep, really. He hadn’t gotten any more than Katsumi had; Katsumi had heard his muffled hitched breaths last night when they were all pretending to sleep. Out of all of them, he’s said the least this whole time.

“You can stop looking at him like that.”

Taki’s voice is frank, but not unkind.

Katsumi could not be less in the mood for whatever the hell kind of conversation this is about to be. “Like what,” he replies anyhow. 

“Like you broke his best friend,” Nishimura says, lowly, before letting out a slight oof like he’s been elbowed in the ribs.

Damn. Alright then.

None of them seem to be holding their breath for him to respond, at least. They don’t seem to know what to say, either, really. He’s weighing the pros and cons of just fleeing to the bathroom when Kitamoto finally says, “Natsume knows better than anyone that this isn’t on you.”

“Why?” Katsumi feels his gut give a little lurch. “Was it some kind of youkai shit after all, then?”

Taki shakes her head. “I mean, you’ll have to ask him, but. Sensei did go and check the area out last night and ask around and everything, and it all seemed normal.”

Sensei remains silent, naturally, but his ear flicks in Taki’s direction.

Kitamoto’s mouth twists. “What I meant was, just keeling over in random places with no warning or explanation is like. A hobby of Natsume’s.”

“We love it,” Nishimura mutters. “It’s great.”

Sensei huffs.

Katsumi glances at Natsume, still slack and dead to the world on Taki’s shoulder. And okay, maybe he kind of still looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over. But much less so than when they were kids. Less so even than the first time Katsumi had come to this town. “How many times constitutes a hobby?”

And Nishimura frowns, then honest-to-god starts counting on his fingers.

Taki watches him, mouth twisting like she’s considering it. “I guess it depends what counts as keeling over. Or what constitutes a warning.

“Enough times,” Kitamoto says, decisively.

Nishimura scuffs his toe on the floor. “And with me and Acchan, he’d just be lying through his teeth about it, for months, because he didn’t think he could—“

Could what, Katsumi wonders, but Nishimura never finishes the thought. Kitamoto bumps their shoulders together Nishimura huffs, apparently relinquishing the rant building inside him, but Katsumi thinks the look on his face, the tightness in his eyes, is just this side of grief.

“Anyways,” Nishimura says, after an uncomfortable beat, sounding only slightly more subdued. “Even if you don’t wanna hear it, you’re the Big Damn Hero in this situation. No ifs-ands-or-buts, okay. We all know it. Natsume knows it.” Taki nods, flint-eyed like she’s daring him to argue.

“You can’t predict this stuff,” Kitamoto adds, after a moment, his expression hard to parse. “With anyone. And you’ll just make yourself crazy thinking you can.”

“Okay,” is all Katsumi can think of to say. It sounds dismissive, probably, but it’s all he’s got right now. He watches Natsume scrunch up his nose in his sleep. The council hath spoken, and he is too goddamned tired to refute them.

tbc