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scarlettriot · 3 years ago

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Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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archived-kin · 4 years ago

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late with lucifer

note from kin: i just realised that the title sounds like a talk show ffs

anyway get ready to get SAPPY (and also get ready for a low-key out of character lucifer)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn! reader, lucifer, satan, beelzebub, belphie

pairing(s): lucifer/reader

warning(s): brief existential dread right at the end but i think it’s relatively light

genre: fluff all the way (with maybe a teensy bit of angst???? i accidentally got kinda deep towards the end)

Deciding to commit yourself to a bona fide workaholic music nerd who would sooner chop his own hand off than skip a single working day for potentially the rest of eternity has been... a choice and a half, to say the least. Yes, he’s a sweetheart most of the time, and you love him more than possibly any being in the known universe (though jury’s still out on cats and the dragon you met a couple of months ago who brings you giant mouthfuls of leaves every weekend), but you’d be lying if he didn’t have qualities that make you want to drop kick some sense into him sometimes. And one of those qualities happens to be his absolute refusal to just take a damn break.

“Just one more hour,” He keeps telling you whenever you ask him if he’s finally finished with his mountain load of paperwork. “One more hour, and then we can spend some time together.”

It has been five hours since Lucifer went to his study to ‘get a bit of work done’. Five hours of attempting to finish the mountain of books Satan has recommended you in the corner of the library, probably irritating the poor guy to no end with your constant restless shifting. You're surprised that he hasn’t up and left to go read in his room in peace - then again, it’d be hypocritical of him to tell you off for moving about. You’d think a bookworm like him would be so absorbed by his beloved books that he wouldn’t be able to move at all, but he fidgets about so much when he’s reading that you’re surprised he hasn’t somehow worn a hole through his favourite armchair yet. At any rate, you’re pretty sure you can see him getting ready to flip himself upside down for the seventh time this evening in the corner of your eye.

You try once again to focus on the lucrative business deal happening in Chapter 52 for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, but your brain just doesn’t seem to be listening to you right now; no matter how hard you try to register what’s going on, the words just don’t want to be processed. Finally, checking the clock on the wall for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, you decide that you might as well go bother your busy bee upstairs. It’s been at least a fortnight since you’ve been able to spend a full evening or night with him, and, if you’re honest, it’s beginning to get a little on your nerves.

Satan barely looks up from his book as you hop to your feet and begin making your way out, though he does lift a hand to wave a brief goodbye. Contrary to your prediction, he has not flipped himself upside down, but is now sitting the wrong way around on his armchair instead, facing the seat’s back, with his book carefully balanced on its head. Unconventional, but you’ll give him credit for the creativity.

The House of Lamentation is oddly quiet for a Friday night, but you’d guess that’s because Asmo and Mammon, the two loudest members of the house, have taken it upon themselves to celebrate the arrival of the weekend by going out for the night and probably blowing their savings in the process. Well, Asmo will be blowing his savings - Mammon will most likely find a way to put his spendings on one of his other brother’s tabs, or worse, yours. Then again, you don’t buy things often, so you suppose you can spare a bit of cash. (Knowing Mammon, though, he’ll probably buy enough to put you in debt for the rest of your life.)

On your way through the corridor, you’re struck by a sudden idea. Lucifer’s been shut in his study ever since he got home from the R.A.D., which means he most likely won't have eaten anything. At any rate, you know for a fact he wasn’t there for dinner with everyone else, which means you now have a much better excuse for going to see him other than just wanting to. Lucifer may be a stubborn demon, but he's never been able to resist a mug of tea and some biscuits on long nights when it's you offering them.

Beel is rustling about in the snack cupboard when you slip into the kitchen - no surprises there, but it is a little odd that he’s going for the lighter foods rather than something more filling. You'd comment on why he's down here so late into the night - he should really be in bed - but then again, it's Beel. He'd listen to his stomach over his brain any day of the week.

“Oh, hey,” He greets as he retreats from the cupboard with an armful of what look like several cookie boxes stacked on top of each other. “Did you get hungry as well?”

You shake your head and pull two mugs out of the crockery cabinet. “Nope. Just thought I’d bring Lucifer some tea and biscuits, you know?”

“He’s been in his office for ages,” Beel agrees with an earnest nod. He glances down at the heap of cookies in his arms, then pauses. “Ah… here.”

You look up as you fill the kettle with water to see him holding one of the boxes in his arms out to you. “...what’s this for?”

“There aren’t any biscuits left in the cupboard,” He says by way of explanation, shaking the box he’s offering to indicate that you should take it. “So you can have these.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that, Beel!” You gently push the box back towards him and give his arm a fond pat. “I’ll just bring him something else. Go ahead and eat the cookies, okay?”

On any other occasion, Beel would most likely have accepted your offer without hesitation (the day that Beel rejects food will probably never come, but you have a sneaking suspicion that a black hole would rip this reality apart if it does), but it must have been a really good day for him in terms of being fed, because he actually continues to try to give you the box. You’re tempted to coo at the big softie’s uncharacteristic generosity, but you’re not particularly sure how that would go over with him. If being in a relationship with Mr Pridey McPrideface upstairs has taught you anything, it’s that you can never take a reaction for granted.

“No, you have it,” Beel insists, shifting so that he doesn’t drop the rest of his biscuits and stubbornly attempting to shove the box into your hands. “I’ve got plenty right here.”

Your surprise must show on your face, because a moment later he smiles a little sheepishly and adds, “I promise I’m not sick or anything. I’ve still got lots right here. One box won’t make that much of a difference.”

You think it over for a moment as the kettle begins to bubble aggressively behind you. You’re a staunch believer in the fact that one should never deprive Beel of his food, partially because he’s an absolute sweetheart who deserves the food he eats, and partially because something bad could and probably would happen if said food is taken from him. Then again, you’re not taking the food from him, strictly speaking - he’s the one offering it to you. That exempts you, right? At the very least, you have a counter-argument if Belphie tries to persecute you for taking his beloved twin brother’s biscuits. (He probably wouldn’t - the kid adores you - but it’s good to be prepared for possible trials.)

“Ah, fine...” You eventually relent and allow Beel to press the box into your hands. Your compliance is well worth it - the beam on his face and the little pat he gives the box in your hands in satisfaction could probably cure multiple strains of cancer. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

He flushes slightly. “I-it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” You tell him firmly over your shoulder, beginning to busy yourself with the teabags and sugar as the kettle hisses to a halt. “Personally, I think I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life.”

You smile to yourself as Beel laughs a little bashfully behind you. “Thanks…”

“No problem, bub,” You reply, pausing in your work to turn around and shoot him a wink. “Hey, chuck me a spoon, would you?”

He nods and does just that - literally. He throws the spoon across the kitchen with such precision that it lands perfectly in your outstretched hand.

You thank him and begin to pour the hot water into Lucifer’s mug. He says that he likes his tea as is, without any bells or whistles or fancy additions, but you’ve been doing this thing for long enough that you know that he actually prefers his tea with a teaspoon of honey and just a splash of lemon. He just refuses to actually say it out loud.

(To be honest, you’re not sure why he does that - does he think tea with honey and lemon is a wimpy drink or something just because you told him it’s often drunk as a remedy for a sore throat in the human world? Knowing the way his mind works, it’s probably something along those lines, but still, it’s a weird conclusion to make.)

You finish preparing Lucifer’s tea quickly - you’ve done this so many times that the movements have become second nature to you at this point - and start making your own. The drinks are finished a minute or so later, and with that you begin setting up your little snack tray.

After a moment’s debate, you decide that today is worth going the extra mile, and start to carefully arrange the biscuits on a pretty plate. It’s a bit of a hassle to get them into the right formation, but it’ll be well worth it once you get them to their intended receiver - Lucifer always gets the fondest little smile on his face when you bring him his biscuits in patterns, and that man doesn’t smile nearly enough for your taste. Personally, you’d quite like it if he smiled like that all the time, but then again, their rarity is what makes them so precious to you.

Ah - you’re starting to get sappy again. That’s a surefire sign that you haven’t spent enough time with your beloved demon lately. Well, it’s a good thing you’re going to see him now, isn’t it?

The door to Lucifer’s study is still as tightly shut as it was five hours ago when you approach it, but you doubt he’s actually locked it. He’s stopped doing that ever since your visits while he works became a regular thing - he hasn’t said it out loud yet, but you know that it’s his way of showing you that you’re always welcome to come in.

Unlocked as it is, though, you can’t exactly turn the doorknob to let yourself in. You’re a human of many talents, but being able to balance a heavy tray in one hand is not one of them. Lucifer’s tea wouldn’t make into his study - it’d just end up all over the floor.

“Lucifer!” You call softly through the door, mindful that he might be having another one of his work-induced headaches, “I’ve brought you some tea! Open up!”

For a while, the only reply is silence. You know there shouldn’t be any reason for him to be, but you can’t help but worry briefly if Lucifer’s somehow angry at you. Then again, Lucifer’s always liked to play the fashionably late card against you - whether to tease you or to disguise something, you’ll never know.

It turns out that your little worry was unfounded - a few moments later, the door swings open to reveal your favourite demon in all his exhausted-looking glory. Lucifer, who looks like the physical manifestation of work burnout, offers you a tired smile, and stands back to let you enter.

(Here’s a little secret - Lucifer would never tell you this, but he’d perked up like a kid when candy is offered the moment he heard your voice. Still, gotta put up the cool front, right? Even if that means waiting restlessly right next to the door for a minute so that you don’t think he’s over-eager…)

“Thank you.” He murmurs as you bring the tray over to his desk and set it down on one of the few patches of wood that aren’t covered by papers.

You dramatically pretend to swipe sweat from your forehead as if you’ve just finished a ten-mile run and shoot a smile up at him. “All in a day’s work, love.”

He smiles softly and leans in to gently press a kiss to the crown of your head. His pale cheeks have darkened slightly - Lucifer’s always been a softie when it comes to the host of sappy nicknames you’ve given him. One gentle ‘sweetheart’ and he’s melting like an ice cube on a hot day. It’s the sort of thing that people like Mammon and Levi would probably call gross or something, but you honestly couldn’t really care less about that. It’s not harming anyone else and it makes both of you happy, so why shouldn’t you give your lover as many endearing pet names as you can come up with?

“What even is all this?” You ask, peering at the papers scattered across the desk as Lucifer moves over to have a look at the plate of biscuits. You look up just in time to spot the way his eyes light up slightly when he sees the flower you've arranged them into.

“This and that,” He replies vaguely, hovering a single gloved hand uncertainly over the plate, as if trying to decide which biscuit he can take without spoiling the pattern.

“That’s hardly an answer at all,” You complain, plucking three broken quills from among the documents and waving them at him. “Why do you keep using these? A pen would be way more efficient.”

“Official documents should be written in the traditional way,” Lucifer tells you. He takes his time chewing the biscuit he’s finally chosen before continuing. “And Diavolo prefers quill and ink calligraphy to look at.”

“Honestly…” You round the edge of the desk and reach up to brush some powdered sugar from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to do absolutely everything according to him.”

Lucifer blinks down at you, lips parting slightly in half awe and half surprise as you smile at him. “Ah…”

His smile widens slightly, and he gazes at you with so much fondness in his eyes that you almost feel a little weak at the knees at the very sight. Lucifer really is a dangerous demon - in more ways than one.

“Well, c-come on, then,” You prompt him abruptly, not wanting him to realise how much his gaze has affected you, because you just know it’s going to give him an ego boost. He pauses in surprise as you start tugging him over to the big armchair beside the fire - the one that the both of you can fit snugly into together. “Let’s have a drink together.”

“I still have papers to fill out—” He attempts to say, but cuts himself off as you shake your head and stubbornly attempt to push him down into the seat. It doesn’t work - Lucifer’s much stronger than you, after all - but he does at least seem to appreciate the effort.

“You’re taking a break whether you like it or not,” You insist, starting to smack lightly at his arms in an bid to get him to listen to you. “Papers can wait. I’m more important.”

That does get a little chuckle out of him, and he finally relents, sitting down with a subtle sigh. “That goes without saying.”

You laugh, suddenly a little more hot around the collar than you’d have liked. “You said it!”

Pausing to retrieve the tray with the tea and biscuits and set it on the table beside the armchair, you quickly join Lucifer in front of the fire, snuggling in at his side and letting out a blissful sigh as you feel him start to draw circles on your arm with his fingers. It’s a sort of habit that he’s developed over the last few months - you’re not sure if he even realises that he’s doing it.

The two of you stay like that in comfortable silence for several minutes. Lucifer’s tense shoulders relax more and more with each passing moment, and soon enough, he’s sprawled out against you, pressing his cheek lovingly into the crown of your head.

It’s only at moments like this that you get to see this softer version of him, so you always cherish it when it happens. Lucifer may be a slightly passive-aggressive panther who could kill most beings with a swipe of his hand if he sees fit, but, every now and then, he’s a sleepy panther who’ll roll over and let you scratch behind his ears.

Conversation is usually sparse at times like this - the two of you are content enough in each other’s presence that you don’t really need to make small talk. Today, however, Lucifer seems to have something he wants to vent about.

“Belphie has been missing a lot of his homework again lately,” He murmurs. You make a noise of affirmation to indicate that you’re listening, staring at the mugs of tea sitting on the table and pondering whether the two of you will actually manage to part for long enough to drink them.

“Is it anything important?” You ask after a moment, playing absent-mindedly with his left hand. He doesn’t make any move to stop you as you mess about with his slender fingers, so you assume that he doesn’t mind.

“Mostly essays,” He replies, shifting slightly and letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s never liked writing them, but he hasn’t had so many missing before.”

You make a thoughtful sound. Now that you think about it, wasn’t Belphie confiding in you about this the other day?

“It’s just hard to sit down and concentrate sometimes, especially when I’m always so tired,” You remember him saying resignedly over hot chocolate and marshmallows. “It’s not like I don’t want to turn all my homework in on time. Sometimes I just can’t.”

“Well, you shouldn’t force yourself to do them, either,” You’d replied, giving his shoulders a sympathetic pat. “Needs over school of course. If you need to sleep more, then sleep more - if you feel like you can’t write the essay, then don’t write the essay. I’ll talk to Lucifer if he gets mad at you.”

He’d given you a grateful smile then, and turned back to his hot chocolate with a marginally brighter look on his face.

“Belphie’s been having a lot of nightmares lately, so he isn’t getting as much sleep,” You say slowly. “I told him to go ahead and take as many naps as he has to. His needs are more important than schoolwork, after all.”

Lucifer takes a long while to answer, but you don’t mind. It’s only fairly recently that he’s really come to terms with the idea that he doesn’t need to be so hard on his brothers - that it’s okay to put their comfort before whatever image of respectability he’s trying to keep up for Diavolo. The change has been somewhat jarring, according to Satan, but it’s not an unwelcome one, and you’ll gladly take responsibility for it with your constant reminders and careful explanations that Lucifer’s younger brothers have their own problems that he needs to give more leeway for.

“...did he come to talk to you about this?” He asks finally.

“Yeah.” You can’t see his face, but you can practically hear the frown beginning to pinch at his brows. “I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but he does want to make you proud. He’s never wanted to disappoint you.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it with a low hum. “...Belphie has never disappointed me.”

“Seems that he doesn’t realise that sometimes, though,” You sigh, tracing the seams of his glove with your index finger. “He’s a good kid, really.”

Lucifer doesn’t give a verbal reply, but he does hum again. You shift slightly and turn to look up at him; he looks back at you with sleepy, half-lidded crimson eyes. “Take it easy on him, okay?”

He gazes at you in contemplative silence for a long while, blinking slowly like an affectionate cat. Finally, he nods, and you beam proudly, dipping your head to rest on his chest, carefully positioning yourself so that his buttons don’t dig into your cheek.

“I’ll speak to his teachers,” He says quietly. “We should be able to arrange something.”

You smile against the fabric of his waistcoat, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze. “That’s progress. I’m proud of you.”

He doesn’t respond, but you know full well that he loves it when you say that to him. He didn’t in the early days of your relationship, mostly because he’d thought you were patronising him, but now that the two of you are so much more familiar with each other, he’s learnt to recognise that you don’t mince words; you say what you mean, and you mean what you say. Which is exactly why, as the Avatar of Pride, he absolutely loves it when you tell him that you’re proud of him.

Lucifer himself is deep in thought. Struck by a sudden warmth spreading through him, quite independent of the crackling fire before him, he wraps his arms around you, resting his cheek against your head. It’s at moments like these, when you’re so close to him, that he realises just how fragile humans like you are.

It terrifies him sometimes, knowing that the unforgiving march of time means that you cannot be with him forever. One day you will leave, and you will grow old and fade away without him, because, no matter how much he wishes otherwise, you belong to a different realm. You are not a demon, and he is not a human; your worlds can collide briefly, for a single, beautiful moment, but then they will continue to move in their own orbit - and perhaps they will never meet again.

Some would say that, for this reason, he never should have fallen in love in the first place. Relationships like yours have always had a sort of taboo, even in the Devildom, because all beings are not created equal; humans have such short, meaningless lifespans compared to demons and angels, such little power, always depending on leaders and faith in a deity that they cannot prove the existence of. That is what demons tend to think of humanity, and until he’d met you, Lucifer had felt similarly.

But your life has been anything but meaningless, and the power you hold over him and his brothers is far stronger than any amount of potent magic that any being holds. The seven lords of the Devildom would lay waste to all three realms should anything happen to you.

Lucifer had never thought that he had the ability to love so deeply and so purely, but then again, he’d also never thought that a human like you could exist. It seems that he’s been wrong about a lot of things, and he can only pray that he will be wrong in his prediction of how this will end.

But you’re with him now, curled up against him with a content smile on your face. For now, you’re here, and while you are, Lucifer doesn’t want to waste time on worries.

Your story is yet to reach its ending, and if Lucifer knows anything, it’s that he will stay by your side until then. As long as your worlds are still connected, he will continue to love you, and he will love you long after your worlds separate again.

He’s sure of it.

#unedited #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #lucifer x reader #swd lucifer #swd satan #swd belphegor #swd beelzebub #fluff #lucifer is one of those characters that you can interpret in SO many ways and i love that for him #he's pretty fun to write as well #existential dread #we love a good big brother lucifer #for those of you reading these tags here is a hint for the next obey me piece #remember the simeon with a himbo bf piece?#we're getting a part two baby #(warning: the part two is likely not going to be anything remotely like what you're thinking of)#;)

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noteguk · 4 years ago

Text

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure.

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon!

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get.

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical.

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.”

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.”

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.”

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.”

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.”

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?”

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.”

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.”

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse.

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue.

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?”

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.”

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship.

No, he could never do that. He would not.

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot?

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just—

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this.

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that.

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened.

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time.

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking.

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place.

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks.

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut.

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob.

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work.

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science.

God, he was an idiot.

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…”

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.”

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.”

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.”

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.”

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?”

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything.

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?”

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story.

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before.

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.”

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?”

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.”

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs.

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard.

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased.

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said.

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue.

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva.

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking.

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches.

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive.

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva.

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster.

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him.

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.”

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach.

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth.

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.”

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come.

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him.

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth.

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right.

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!”

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan.

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?”

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.”

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!”

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t.

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed.

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

#hoseok #smut #hoseok smut #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jung hoseok #pwp #drabble #smut drabble #x you #x reader #reader insert #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #college au

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chickwiththepurpleguitar · 3 years ago

Note

You said to put a rebuke prompt in here sO what about a sickfic? Luke is sick and Reggie and Bobby try to take care of him but then Reggie gets sick and all that's left is a grumpy Bobby who is tired of their dumbassery

Sorry this took so long. I hope you like it!! My first try at rebuke, but hopefully not my last ;)

read on ao3 here!

The minute Bobby gets to school, he knows today’s going to be kind of a disaster.

His first clue? Luke’s not there yet. He’s not exactly late, and isn’t in any real danger of being so—it’s only 7:30, and the first bell doesn’t ring until 7:55—but if Bobby’s being honest, he can’t remember the last time Luke wasn’t early. Usually, by the time Bobby gets to school, Luke’s already bouncing around the halls somewhere, playing his guitar in the stairwell or pretending to flirt with girls outside the library or trying to break into Bobby’s locker because Bobby refuses to give Luke his combination.

Luke doesn’t like school, but he likes being at home even less. And at least at school, his friends are there.

His friends are there now—two of them at least—but Luke isn’t.

It just doesn’t bode well for things to come, in Bobby’s opinion.

“Hey,” Reggie says when he meets Bobby at his locker, blindly bumping Bobby’s fist as he glances up and down the hallway. “Luke’s not here yet?”

“Guess not.” Bobby shuts his locker and shoulders his backpack. “Alex still home sick?”

“Think so,” Reggie confirms with a nod. “He said on the phone last night he was gonna try to be back today for a Spanish test, but I don’t know, he sounded pretty rough.”

Bobby grimaces. “Better he stay home and not infect the rest of us. He can always retake a Spanish test.”

“Yeah, but you know Alex.” Reggie shrugs. “If he’s not back, can I come over tonight? Since we won’t rehearse, I mean, just—just to hang out?”

A smile pulls at Bobby’s lips as his stomach does a weird, not unpleasant, flip flop. “Yeah, man, of course you can. Luke too?”

Reggie grins. “Of course!”

Bobby nods and turns back to his locker, fiddling pointlessly with the lock so that Reggie won’t see him blushing.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Alex—he does, a lot—he just… likes Alex as a friend. And he likes Reggie… and Luke… more than that… or differently… or something.

It’s stupid, and hell if Bobby knows how to put the damn thing into words, but… he figures the more time he gets to spend with just Luke and Reggie, the better. Even if it means taking advantage of the few times Alex isn’t available to make plans.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Reggie and Bobby hang around his locker, talking about their gig coming up in a couple weeks and the math homework Bobby didn’t do and whether it’s likely for Bobby’s finicky TV to be working well enough for them to play Super Mario Bros. after school today.

At 7:52, just when they’re starting to consider giving up and going to class, Luke appears at his own locker, about halfway down the hall.

“Hey, there you are!” Reggie calls, bouncing over to him. “We thought you weren’t gonna show up today.”

Bobby follows, and the closer he gets to Luke, the more dread bubbles up in his stomach. Luke slumps against his locker, not even reacting to Reggie’s words. He looks pale and flushed at the same time, his nose and cheeks an alarming shade of cherry, and his hands tremble slightly as he tries to put his locker combination in.

Bobby stops short a good ten feet away as the pieces fall into place in his head, and before he can think of the right thing to say, what comes out is, “You look like shit.”

Luke’s response is a little delayed. When he does raise his eyes to Bobby, they’re glassy and dull, and his self-deprecating laugh and mumbled little, “Thanks, Bobs, that’s real nice,” come out so painfully hoarse that Bobby swears he feels his own throat sting in sympathy.

He takes another step back. Luke doesn’t just look terrible; he looks contagious.

Reggie, it seems, has no such reservations. He sidles right up to Luke and slings an arm around his shoulders; Luke immediately leans back into Reggie’s hold, his expression crumpling with relief like maybe he was having trouble holding up his weight on his own.

“Aw, Luke,” Reggie coos, rubbing Luke’s arm. “Did you catch Alex’s cold?”

“No,” Luke grumbles petulantly, and then contradicts himself by coughing into Reggie’s shoulder (Bobby flinches). “Maybe,” Luke amends. “But it’s Alex’s dumb saliva’s fault.”

Bobby’s stomach flips again. This time, it’s a little unpleasant. When have Luke and Alex been… sharing saliva?

“Well, Luke, bro, you shouldn’t have taken a sip of his drink when you knew he wasn’t feeling well,” Reggie chides, parental but for the most part unconcerned.

Luke pouts. “But he had a milkshake, and I couldn’t afford to get my own, and it seemed like a good idea in the moment, it was yummy!”

Relief surges through Bobby so intensely he almost feels faint with it—so Luke and Alex weren’t kissing. Okay. Good.

Not that he should have any say in what his friends do with their mouths on their own time, he just… he’d like to know about it ahead of time, if at all possible. Maybe be involved himself sometimes, that’d be nice.

Again. Stupid.

“Why are you even here?” Bobby asks, and it comes out harsher than he meant it to; Reggie and Luke both look up at him, frowning. He clears his throat and tries to soften his tone. “I mean. You should’ve stayed home, if you’re sick.”

Luke grimaces, and reluctantly pulls out of Reggie’s grip when the bell rings shrilly above them. “Mom wouldn’t let me,” he says with a wet sniff, yanking his locker open and grabbing a stack of books seemingly at random. “I didn’t have a fever, and I may have been known to fake a cold to get out of stuff once or twice… a month…” He shrugs, and drags a wrist under his nose. “Guess I wasn’t convincing enough this time.”

“This wasn’t convincing?” Bobby’s backed up another few feet, unable to take his eyes off Luke’s dripping nose, which he just wiped with his hand—God, who raised him? How and why in God’s green earth does Bobby ever find him attractive?

“In Mrs. P’s defense,” Reggie says cheerfully, “Luke’s really good at faking.”

Luke slams his locker closed. “Whatever, I’m fine. Let’s just get to class, Bobby. We’ll see you later, Reg.”

He starts, stumbling, down the hallway, toward the history class he and Bobby share. Bobby and Reggie exchange a look behind his back—Reggie’s is concerned, Bobby’s more than a little disgusted.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Reggie pleads. “Just until I see you guys at lunch?”

Bobby glances over at Luke, who’s paused a little ways down the hall to have a coughing fit into the crook of his arm—sleeveless, of course. “How close an eye are we talking?”

Reggie’s smile turns tolerant. “Please, Bobby? For me?”

Well, fuck, what is he supposed to say to that? He nods, stammers out a reply, and turns toward his classroom, just in time to see Luke careen forward with a spraying, uncovered sneeze.

Bobby shudders, hefts his backpack a little higher on his shoulder, and tries not to breathe.

“He better not get me sick,” he grumbles to himself, and goes to drag Luke into class.

***

They get about fifteen, twenty minutes in before Bobby starts to think, yeah, no, no way in hell this is gonna work.

Luke is struggling.

First of all, he can barely sit up straight and keep his eyes open, much less pay attention to the lecture, so Bobby highly doubts he’s learning anything. He sniffles more than breathes, coughs more than talks, and gets up out of his seat to get a tissue from the front of the room so often that their teacher Mrs. Carroll eventually just nods for him to take the whole box back to his desk.

Every time he sneezes, Bobby cringes and scoots his desk a few more inches away. Every time he coughs, Bobby sinks lower in his chair, trying to surreptitiously pull the collar of his hoodie over his mouth. Every time he blows his nose, and just leaves the dirty tissues sitting in a gross little pile on his desk, Bobby wonders how the fuck they’re even friends.

When the bell rings, Luke slumps back in his chair and coughs into a fresh wad of tissues for a full minute and a half, while their classmates file out of the room around them, giving Luke grossed-out looks as they pass.

Bobby doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed on Luke’s behalf, considering they’re totally justified in their disgust. Mrs. Carroll catches his eye from her desk at the front of the classroom, and before she can so much as mouth, Maybe you should take him to the nurse, Bobby nods and holds up a finger as if to say, No, yeah, I’m on it.

“Hey,” he says, kicking the leg of Luke’s chair. “Pack up your stuff, sicky, you’re going home.”

Luke frowns at him, tissues still held over his face, muffling his already stuffy protest. “What? No, I’m—”

“Shut up,” Bobby cuts him off. “I don’t care if you claim you’re fine, I don’t care if your mom will be pissed, you look and sound like shit, I’m taking you back to my place until someone can pick you up. No arguments, you hear me?”

Luke just looks at him for a moment, and Bobby worries he’s going to fight back again, but then something shifts in his expression, and he just looks so tired all of a sudden. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Yeah, okay, I—I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Bobby lets out a breath. “Good. Me too.”

It takes longer than it should to get Luke out of his seat and to the door, even after Bobby takes his books from him so that all Luke has to carry is his box of tissues. Mrs. Carroll writes them both hall passes, and doesn’t fight Bobby when he says he probably won’t be back for her government class in the afternoon.

They walk slowly down the school hallway, Luke leaning heavily into Bobby’s side so he doesn’t stumble. Bobby almost manages not to think about the germs Luke is almost definitely passing to him, because his own health doesn’t matter as much as Luke’s right now. Bobby’s worry for him is hotter, more present, in his chest than any anxiety or germaphobia.

And that worry only grows when they get to the nurse’s office and find Reggie sitting on a plastic-covered bed waiting for them.

“There you guys are!” he says cheerfully, grinning and swinging his legs like a kid. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d last the whole period.”

“The hell are you doing here?” Bobby asks as he guides Luke into a chair.

“Felt like I was gonna throw up,” Reggie explains, then gives Bobby an exaggerated wink he doesn’t understand.

“You did? Are you okay?”

Reggie’s brows knit together. “No—Bobby, that’s just what I told Miss Ellison so I could get out of English class. I wanted to meet you guys down here so I could go with you when you leave.”

Bobby frowns. There’s a lot going on today, he doesn’t have a whole lot of brainpower to spend on Reggie’s riddles. And he’s definitely missing something here.

Apparently, Luke is just as confused. “Wait,” he croaks, sniffling and slumped over in his chair. “You’re sick, too, Reg?”

Reggie rolls his eyes. “No, Luke, not really. I just pretended so that I could go home with you guys. You are going home, right?”

“Yeah, he barely lasted one class, he’s not staying the whole day,” Bobby says, ignoring the petulant glare Luke shoots him.

“Then I’m going with you.” Reggie glances nervously between them. “Unless… you don’t want me to?”

“No,” Luke says quickly. “No, I want both of you. Please.”

Reggie grins. Bobby’s stomach flips.

“Fine, I guess we’re all sick, then,” he grumbles, ducking his head to hide his blush, and points to Luke and Reggie each in turn. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

It’s unfairly easy for Bobby to convince the nurse to let him drive Luke and Reggie home, since they’re both “so sick” (he doesn’t even have to pretend to be sick himself. The nurse takes one look at Luke and agrees to let Bobby go with him for no reason, if only to get his germ-ridden friend off school property).

It’s a little less easy to call Emily Patterson at work and explain to her that he’s Luke’s friend, no, ma’am, he’s really sick, I don’t mind taking him back to my house until you get off work, yes, ma’am, I’ll make sure he gets all his homework, etc, etc, etc.

Reggie’s parents don’t even pick up. Bobby has a fake conversation with “Reggie’s dad” just so he can tell the nurse with some level of confidence that Reggie’s been given permission to go home with him, too. He’s not sure she believes him. He doesn’t think she cares.

“You’re gonna get sick,” Bobby says when he returns to find Luke lying on the bed with his eyes closed, head in Reggie’s lap, sniffling into Reggie’s pant leg while Reggie strokes his hair back out of his face.

“I think he’s got a fever now,” he says, which is not at all a response to what Bobby said. “Are we ready to go?”

Bobby gives a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

***

As Luke gets worse, he also gets clingier. Which, really, Bobby should’ve expected. It’s one thing in the car, where Bobby can roll the windows down and focus on driving while Luke stretches out all over Reggie in the backseat, coughing and sniffling and ignoring Bobby whenever he reminds him to cover his damn mouth.

Once they get back to his house, though, Bobby washes his hands about fifteen times in a row, then heads into the studio with the intention of recommending that Reggie do the same, only to find Reggie and Luke curled up on the pull-out couch together, fast asleep.

For a minute or two, Bobby just stands there, watching them. Both of them idiots, one of them disgusting, and yet… god, he loves both of them so much. How fucking stupid is that?

Luke’s gonna get Reggie sick, if he hasn’t already; that’s just an inevitability at this point. And then one or both of them is going to get Bobby sick, and it’s going to suck, because colds always hit Bobby super hard for no good reason, which is why he tries so hard to avoid catching them.

But a few days of misery is worth it, he guesses, if he can spend today taking Luke’s temperature and rubbing his back and forcing Vitamin C on both him and Reggie until they’re both sick of him.

And at least, whatever happens, he can blame this whole thing on Alex.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @molinapattersons @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #rebuke #bibobceps #bobby wilson #bobby shaw #reggie peters #luke patterson #sickfic #prompt fill #500 followers aaaah!!!

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occasionaloneshots · 3 years ago

Text

Ring- zNation

younger brother! 10K, wife! Georgia, female reader

CW: Mentions death, explosions (all canon related) some-what angst, minor swearing

In which she only knew he was her brother when he recognized an old ring and she didn’t truly recognize him until weeks later.

Word Count: 1644

The urgent steps of the short haired woman quickly caught the attention of her wife, leather jacket flying up behind her slightly as she walks. The other woman’s eyes follow her, eyes lifting from the speech she was editing. “Georgie?” She jumps up from her seat, “What’s wrong?” “Talkers at the welcome center. They’re hungry and the center doesn’t have any bizcuits.” The dark haired woman blows a kiss to her wife as she speeds out of the building. Sliding the pencil and speech into her pocket (Y/N) stands up from the table, heading for the double doors that her wife ran out of moments before. A new set of arrivals wasn’t something new for Altura, this happens pretty often, and (Y/N) has desperate hope every single time one does.

Head of Pacifica security heads over to the quarantine station of the bigger outpost. She knew it was a slim chance, yet every time there was new arrivals she had the need to check for the boy. Twisting the ring on her right finger, the woman waited patiently for the truckload to return her wife and bring in a new shipment of dirty, tired faces. Her nervous eyes search the area around her, a few welcome committee members give her a gentle smile, others shaking their head in exhaustion. Eight years of apocalypse couldn’t shake her belief that her family is out there. Anyone other than Dante and Georgia would call her hopeless for still believing but (Y/N)’s intuition had never failed them. If her gut told her they were still out there, the two would believe her until the end.

Nervous summersaults enter the girl’s stomach as a vehicle comes into her sight line. “Don’t get your hopes up,” the woman whispers to herself, toying with the piece of metal on her finger. A kind voice speaks to a doctor, telling him that he and his friends had to go through quarantine before gaining citizenship. (Y/N)’s eyes search the group, one face catching her eye. He was too far for her to tell for sure, but the woman swore she recognized him. Georgia leaves the group, making her way to the woman. “One day playing with your ring like that is going to make it get stuck,” she chuckles, kissing the worried woman on her forehead. Shaking her head, (Y/N) leans into her lover’s side, “I’m just nervous.” Rubbing a hand up the soft material of her wife’s sweater Georgia frowns, “Did the feeling go away?” “No, no, I’m still sure someone is out there,” she bites her lip, “I just, feel like I know that guy, the dark haired one you just brought in. I can’t place him though like it’s been years since I passed him in a crowd or something.”

“After he gets through quarantine, you and I can go talk to him together okay?” “That would be great,” she pulls the speech out of her pocket, handing it and the pencil to the woman on her side, “You need an opener, a joke or something to get people’s attention.” “You are an angel,” George laughs, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I try,” she teases, smiling over at the woman. “His name is Ten Thousand, if that helps.” “That’s a number, not a name. What was he before the apocalypse? A government experiment?”

(Y/N) waiting patiently for the quarantine process to end on the new arrivals, it felt like someone had their eyes on her the whole time. The feeling made her stomach feel like it was churning, the nerves killing her. George’s hand on her back lead her over to the group. She learned that the doctor Georgia was speaking to wasn’t a doctor but more of a therapist turned drug dealer from a small conversation. The short woman with him, Sargent Muller was a sweet girl, a fellow marine from before the world fell apart. The whole time she spoke to them, she twirled the ring, cutting eyes at the boy. He was glaring at her hands watching the metal and gems spin.

“Where the hell did you get that,” it was the first thing he said and it felt as if he spit it at her. “Pardon?” The girl tucked herself into her wife’s side, the voice made him even more familiar but the anger in his tone was something she didn’t expect. “Where did you get that ring? You steal it off a corpse or something?” His face was full of disgust as he snatched her hand up. The stranger stared at the silver flower, eying the center gems. 4, his birthstone, his ma’s. his pa’s, and (Y/N)’s. “It was a gift from my mother, thank you,” She scoffs, yanking her hand back. For the first time she took a good look at his face. She knew those eyes anywhere, they were her mother’s, the scar in his eyebrow from where he got hit by a hunter’s knife as it slipped from her hand. And suddenly, she didn’t have to trust the feeling anymore, her brother was most definitely alive. George moves to step between the two, not liking the way the stranger roughly snapped her wife’s hand up. She’s shocked to feel the other woman shove her to the side, hugging the man suddenly, “Tomcat!” The male’s body jolts at the impact, pushing her off slightly, “(Y/N)?” She slumps her shoulders, affected by the rejected hug from her once clingy brother, “Yeah, it’s good to see you.”

-----

(Y/n)’s back is pressed against the side of the building, trying to ignore everything happening in the building. She feels guilt already building in her stomach for being out in the grass while the woman she loves gives a speech she promised to be there for, but being in there feels impossible. Hot tears burn her eyes as she stares into the distance, eyes unfocused. “Hey,” the voice catches her attention, her eyes refocusing on the frame that appeared before her, “You missed an amazing speech you know.” “Yeah, she’s good at them, you should hear her when she has to give a speech on the spot,” her voice is slightly hoarse as she looks up at him. “So uh,” he waves to the ground beside her, “Mind if I join you?” “Go ahead, 10k,” she lets out a half-assed chuckle.

Hearing his chosen name in her voice stung like venom as he sits down beside her. “You know, in fourteen years of living with you, I don’t think I can ever remember you crying, (Y/n/n).” She sniffles, smiling at the old nickname, “Well, you were the clingy family softy back then and I was the heartless one, remember?” “You were never heartless.” “Fourteen year old you felt different. You know the last thing I said to you was ‘the world won’t end while I’m gone’. It’s almost hilarious the way the world works like that,” she toys with the hem of her shirt as she talks. “Yeah, and I told you eight months might as well been eight years, look where we are now.” She laughs, leaning into his side, “What the hell happened to us?” “The real question is, why are you out here? I don’t know much about Georgia, but she seems pretty good to you.”

“She’s amazing, too good to everyone sometimes if we’re all honest. All about trust and second chances. Georgia can really give you insight into your own humanity you know? I lost mine for a while, then there was her.” He nods, “Yeah I think we all lost ours a some point.” “Not her though, and I’m so proud of her, but the idea of walking back into that room made me feel sick.” “You know he can’t hurt her again, right?” She nods, her head falling back, “I know, but last time I was in there I was laughing with Dante, we were planning a double date to celebrate that the vote went through until he had to leave. Now he and Marge are dead, my wife has a black eye and a busted lip, and I couldn’t protect either of them, or you.” “My hand wasn’t your fault, you weren’t here. You didn’t kill Dante, or torture George. That’s not your fault.” “No, Ten, how long were you alone out there before your team found you? You lost Ma and Pa and I was with Lieutenant Dante looking for his wife states away. I should have gone looking for you the moment the apocalypse started, fuck my orders.”

“You knew Dante a long time?” “I did, he was my Lieutenant until we got separated in Colorado four years ago. I just headed North from there, found Georgia, and trusted my gut that I would run into you instead of looking for you.” “Stop blaming yourself for me being alone, I grew up (Y/N). And we found each other eventually.” She fought a laugh, the person she knew as her brother was lost, she would have to find comfort in the new person who occupied his body. She never expected him to be the kid she left alone years before but she never imagined he’d be like this now. “I guess we did, Tomcat.” The dark haired male laughs, standing up and offering her his hand, “Now, let’s get you to your wife. You need to properly introduce me to my sister in law.” She laughs, taking his hand, “Thanks for being cool about that by the way. Pa would have lost it the moment he saw us together.” “We always had each other’s backs, it was the ruling of not getting in trouble with Pa,” the boy laughs, pulling her up from the ground. And for that moment, he was Tommy.

#z nation #10k #10kimagine #georgia st. claire #znation imagines #George st. Claire #sibling imagine #apocolypse

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

Text

Too young, too soon

Mark Lee x reader // FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST Summary: Telling your parents that you’re pregnant is never easy. But having someone beside you while you feel like your world is suddenly crashing down is a different kind of blessing that you don’t deserve. Mark was there holding your hand the whole time when you told your family about being pregnant. And he was right, your parent loves you. Word Count: 6k Warnings: Sex, Someone will die, Mentions of other idols, depression, pregnancy, unprotected sex, cursing, drunk driving, lots of mentions of alcohol Note: DONT drink and drive please! And also use protection whatever happens

Cold Tea Bar, Kensington Canada September 2018

Jammed pack night full of students who wants to celebrate for the weekend. Mark Lee is the cutest bartender on duty tonight, well at least in your eyes. You saw him working with two other guys at the bar, Haechan and Jeno. And together they keep the people happy and loud with all the good drinks and with their charms.

The fact that there are seriously a lot of people in this small bar, you’re having a hard time getting Jeno’s attention to get some drinks. Jeno is your best friend’s boyfriend and Jeno always makes the drinks for your friends, that way you can get drinks much easier. But not tonight you guess you just have to wait patiently for Jeno instead.

Even though Mark was busy making drinks, serving and talking to people he still has time to flirt. He’s good at multitasking and talking to people was never a problem for him because its part of his job. “Hyuck, do you see that girl waiting at the corner” Mark was eyeing you and you saw Haechan glance at you. “Yeah, one of Jeno’s friends” Hyuck answered while getting two glasses at the rack. “Yo Jeno, your girl’s best friend is waiting there” Hyuck shouted, unfortunately Jeno is still busy with other customers and told the other two guys to take make you drinks. “I think I’ll cover for you, she’s cute” Hyuck and Jeno nod their heads in disbelief.

The bar is still busy and so are the bartenders you see. There are three of them but none of them are taking orders at your side of the bar, together with other people patiently waiting. Of course you have no idea but Mark has something up his sleeves. You didn’t notice him slowly coming at the your side while serving tons of drinks. And by the time Mark is serving drinks in front of you already, you were speechless. How can someone looked so good while working under pressure with all these demanding teenagers?

“Y/n right?” his voice brought you back to reality. You were stuttering the whole time while telling him the drinks you need. “I need, uhm -“ you saw him mix something and serve the person beside you. His hands were busy but you know you got his attention, “4 tequila sunrise, and 1 vodka sprite” he smiled at you and nod. He grabs 5 glasses at the rack and made the drinks in front of you.

You noticed he’s pretty calm but quick with his moves, “the vodka sprite is for Jeno’s girlfriend. She will throw a fit if the mix is not right, thats why Jeno always makes her drinks” still stuttering with your words, you made sure you sound polite.

He let out a cute laugh, finishing the drinks but somehow you want him to move a bit slower so you could talk to him more. “I’ll tell you a secret, Jeno learned that mix from me” he told you with a slight smirk. Well that’s a relief you thought, the last thing you want is for your best friend and Jeno to fight.

“Out of these five drinks, which one is yours?” he asked with a smile, trying his best to talk loud, just enough for you to hear him.

“Uh- one of the tequila sunrise”

He gets a tray and put all 4 drinks leaving your drink behind. “Give these to your friends, and enjoy your drink with me so we could talk more” that bold move made you smile from ear to ear. You do as you’re told and surprisingly he did talked to you the whole night while he was working. Haechan and Jeno teased him around because he was never like this with other customers at the bar. Just by talking to him while he’s working you already found out a lot of things about him. Born and raised in Canada but his parents lives in South Korea, you found out that you go to the same school, same year but different programs.

The night went on and on, laughing and talking to Mark as if you both knew each other for so long. You can’t help but notice that he was trying not to get you drunk so he could talk to you more and you were thankful for that. When its your time to go home with your friends, Mark really wanted to take you home instead but he figured it would be too much if he lets you wait for his shift to finish. “I’ll get your number from Jeno” he was making sure that this is not a one night fling. You smiled and nod leaving him to work.

On the next day, you woke up with a good morning text from Mark. A sweet and simple gesture that made you scream on your pillows.

‘Good morning y/n. I was hoping if we could continue spending time with each other? Its a Saturday and I don’t have bartender duties, I hope you’re free today.’

‘Oh by the way, this is Mark :)’

You read his message ten times already and you can’t believe you’re going out with the cutest bartender in Kensington today. To be completely honest you don’t know what to say to him everything he does makes you speechless. You were deleting and typing again and again, careful not to overdo things.

‘I hope your shift ended nicely and you got good rest. I’m free after lunch, we can meet somewhere if you want. Do you have something in mind?’

It was a beautiful day when you went out at the balcony, seeing your dad take care of his beloved plants. It is indeed a nice day to see Mark Lee again. In a mater of minutes, you received a text from Mark again. And it made you even more happier that he has actual plans on how to spend a beautiful day with each others company.

The day went on, and he looked more handsome under the sunlight and not the neon lights at the bar. He is comfortable to be with, awkward sometimes but he can save the situation and turn it into something interesting. You like how he gets so talkative and confident around you already, it makes you at ease. Even though he treated you with respect, everything feels too good to be true you can’t help but still doubt.

“Mark I didn’t mean to sound rude but, why me? I mean you serve drinks to girls prettier than me every week, talk to the hottest girls and you’re pretty handsome yourself and I’m this normal girl that’s nice enough to get drinks for her friends at the bar,and it just so happens that I caught your attention”

He chuckled and grabs your hand, “It’s a matter of choice y/n. You have everything and more, and I can prove that choosing you is a wise decision. It just so happens that this cute bartender only laid eyes on you” he kissed you on the cheek and told you go inside your house already. Like normal first dates, you never wanted the day to end. Just like how you never wanted to stop talking to him that night at the bar.

You wanted him to never forget this night so you bravely ran into him and kissed him on the lips for a hot minute. Making sure to leave enough heat on his body to keep him warm when he leaves. “I’m planning to have our first kiss on our third date actually” his voice is shaking, definitely startled. “I’m just proving you chose the right girl” you bit your lower lip, hoping you didn’t sound so cocky. To your surprise he kissed you again and again and again, enough to understand that hes yours starting tonight.

Being with Mark Lee is like a crazy roller coaster ride. Months have already passed since that fateful night and everyday since then is beautiful and full of love. Some days were slow, when you’re just watching him play and sing with his guitar while you study or do school stuff. Whenever he’s tired from work he will sweetly ask if you could stay with him so he could just lay on your chest and hug you while he enjoys playing with his hair until he sleeps. By the time you knew about Mark’s love for watermelon, sometimes you ate countless of watermelon in a day while talking about random stuff and loving each others company.

And some days were wild, when he fucks you senseless and go on for as many rounds as you want. Making out during his breaks at the bar for everyone to see that you belong to each other because to be honest you’re so sick of those girls who flirt with him. He sometimes get into fights at the bar whenever guys hit on you right in front of his eyes. He gets drunk after that so you wait for his shift to end, take him home and have make up sex and sleep at his apartment.

Even your parents thought Mark is a gem that you found in the middle of the bar, and both you and your parents think that Mark is different from the other guys you’ve been with. Juggling his studies, the relationship and his work was never a problem. He always finds time to spend with you because he is deeply and madly in love with you.

One crazy night, you were having so much fun with your friends and Mark has heart eyes on you the whole night. As usual the bar is packed and their favorite bartenders are serving drinks: Mark, Haechan and Jeno.

“Dude, you’re breaking my heart. You only have eyes on y/n now. You don’t love me anymore” Haechan whines while mixing drinks, making Mark laugh keeping himself busy again to avoid checking you out. Jeno on the other hand, spared a glance at your best friend when he saw someone familiar standing in front of you and his girl. Someone he will never forget because he was present at that time. He slowly made his way near Mark and told him maybe you’re in trouble because your ex showed up.

“Dude I’m telling you, that guy is trouble. He never treated y/n with respect. I was there when he mistreated y/n during my girlfriend’s party” but Mark Lee received his final warning from the manager, one more bar fight and his out.

You knew that Mark is already aware of Jaehyun’s presence. You knew because you can feel Mark’s gaze from across the room. Of course you’re not insensitive, you quickly made your way to the bar so Mark can be at ease. He made his way to you, and kissed you before he serves drinks again making you your favorite tequila sunrise. Jaehyun came in out of nowhere and tickled your waist in front of Mark, Jeno was quick to hold his arm.

“Why did you went away?” Jaehyun is talking to you closely, you could smell his familiar musk making you uncomfortable. You bravely pushed him away something you wanted to do back when you were still dating, “Really? In front of my boyfriend Jaehyun? Get out of my face!” you figured if Mark cant start a fight because he’s on his final warning, you surely can and you’re not scared to be thrown out of the bar. Lucas is a nice bouncer, he wouldn’t dare throwing his friend’s girlfriend alone in the middle of the night.

Mark gave Jaehyun a shot of tequila and gestures him to go, pointing at the exit. Of course that hurt Jaehyun’s pride, “This bartender over me?” you wanted to punch Jaehyun so bad but you knew better. “Yes! A million times yes! Mark is not an asshole like you!” those words brought shame to Jaehyun, thankfully he left the bar with his friends without a word.

You were breathing heavily, your best friend came over to check up on you. The relationship you had with Jaehyun was traumatising, something you never mentioned to Mark. Your boyfriend gave you a glass of water, holding you close in his arms helping you to keep calm. “Thanks for putting up a fight for me” he cupped your face incredibly close to him. You kissed him quickly and told him to go back to work, “I’ll stay here where you can see me don’t worry” he winks at you, as if he’s telling you you’re in for a treat tonight.

The night went on peacefully and you decided to spend the night at Mark’s apartment which he thinks is a good idea. Mark got a little drunk last minute, so he’s ten times sweeter than he normally is. You noticed because he’s been kissing your cheeks every minute the whole car ride. Jeno was nice to take you and Mark home, your boyfriend was kissing and thanking Jeno for everything before he finally lets go and let him leave in peace. You and your best friend can only laugh at the scene.

Its a normal thing for the two of you to take care of each other, specially when one of you is drunk or tipsy. Good thing Mark is sober enough to change his own clothes and brush his teeth he knew you will seriously throw a fit if he goes to bed without brushing his teeth. You hand him a glass of water before you take a shower, “you sleepy already?” this time its you who gave him a kiss, he shook his head. “Not drunk anymore either” he’s quick to pull you for a tight hug, kissing your lips sweetly and taking his time with you. “I’ll shower first before everything else” you try to push him away giggling and pinching his cute butt. “aw-“

Your mind was clouded by what happened earlier that you forgot to bring your clothes with you at the bathroom. You didn’t have any choice but to walk into Mark’s room with just your towel. He whistled when you came in, telling you that he can smell you from where he’s seated. “Is this a new thing of yours? Walking into my room with only your towel?” he teased you making you both giggle and laugh.

“I will take off your clothes the moment you finished putting them on. I wont bother putting them If I were you”

Of all the many things Mark is good at, sweet talking is one of it. You tsked and walked slowly towards him, straddling him while he comfortably lays in bed. Gripping your towel tightly, careful not to let it fall. Mark let out a frustrated laugh and closed his eyes, “Y/n if I’m good at sweet talking you’re good at teasing” he knew you so well. You grind on his clothed crotch, making his thin pyjamas wet from your juices. “Please remove your towel, I want to see you” you didn’t stopped grinding on his hard crotch, slowly you let your towel fall making Mark impatient he grabbed the end of it and threw it somewhere on the floor.

He sat up meeting your lips, hands all over your body. Kissing each other hungrily like you’ve been away for a long time. You removed Mark’s shirt worshipping your boyfriend’s beautiful body and kissed his flawless abs, down to his abdomen removing his pyjamas and boxer briefs in one swift move. With no words or whatsoever, you suck him off like theres no tomorrow. His hands quick to be on top of your head, “Why do I feel like I’m getting rewarded every time you suck me off” he felt the vibration from your giggle.

You pump his cock while slowly sucking him off, playing with his head with a pool of spit in your mouth. Mark likes it filthy but he never mentions it to you because he’s a gentleman. Seeing your boyfriend’s parted lips while his eyes are closed, makes him ten times hotter always. “Oh y/n, baby - shit, you’re in trouble for making me feel so good right now” he managed to let out a threat even though he’s quivering. It’s obvious that he’s on edge already, you removed his cock from your mouth your hand played with his head, making him whine and quiver more he almost kicked you “So what? you want me to stop?”

“No! - fucking - Im sorry please baby, put it back in your mouth” and you did, he smiled at you letting you know he’s thankful. After a few minutes, Mark is a whining mess cursing and breathing heavily under your touch while you try your best to keep his hips steady. You don’t always swallow his cum, but when you do he loses his mind and becomes a little rough in bed. Which you love.

You lay on his chest after sucking him off, listening to his heart beat feeling his fingers draw invisible lines on your back. “Your cum tastes like vodka” you both laughed at what you said. He was poking your pussy on purpose which you just let him do, “I wonder what your cum tastes like tonight?” you smiled at him, he kissed you in return. He loves seeing your hair perfectly falls to your side so he kept his eyes open the whole time you were kissing him softly.

Slowly pulling away from him you giggle at the sight of your boyfriend being needy of your kisses. “Mark Lee, tonight is your lucky night and your time to be a pillow princess” he looks at you for a second, hesitating since he wanted to make you feel good tonight. “Okay” he shifts to a better position in bed, making himself comfortable and waiting for your next move. “Hmm. Mark, I just remembered” you came closer to him, lips almost touching. “We don’t have condoms” you laughed at his reaction. Completely frustrated, groaning and massaging his forehead. “You planned this” he quickly accused you since you’re the one who keep on insisting to have sex without condoms these couple of days but he never let you win. “Oh y/n! You’re so good at teasing like - ugh! The things I want to do to you baby” you were still laughing while kissing his neck, marking him for the first time tonight.

“pullout”

“No way”

“Come on you’re Mark Lee. You can do anything” you sat in between his legs, kissing his abs slowly going down.

“Its not that I can’t do it, you know I can. And I kinda want to” he felt your kisses on his cock. Making him flinch, completely aware that your kisses are sweet traps. “Its dangerous, we don’t know what might happen” you groan in frustration, “Jeno does it all the time and she never gets pregnant. Come on, just this one time” his eyes widened by the mention of Jeno’s name, he didn’t expect that you will use Jeno in this type of situation. “I’m sorry” you knew what you did and you were guilty of it, “I shouldn’t have said that baby, I’m sorry” you stopped what you’re doing and lay on top of your boyfriend.

He hates seeing you like this. Maybe he can pullout just for tonight. You felt him tap your ass, you hum and looked at him. “I think” he gulps, he cant believe he’s actually saying yes, “Just don’t make me cum, I’ll make you cum tonight” you giggle like a little girl and quickly placed your hand on his cock making him hard again, kissing his nipples making him needy of you. He closed his eyes again savouring the pleasure.

You grind and grind on his cock, making it hard with your juices. He doesn’t say it but it makes him crazy feeling your pussy like this. “Baby It’s not even in yet” you stopped grinding because he looked like he’s about to cum. “Dont mind me, you’re hot. I can’t help it” he smiled at you completely letting go of all the worries running in his head.

When you finally lined his cock at your entrance and slowly pushing it in, the feeling was surreal. The pleasure when you grind more on his cock was addicting you can’t explain how good it is. It’s the first time both of you had sex without a condom and it made you both speechless. It felt like you’re having sex for the first time again. Only your moans and Mark’s surrounds the room. You were panting and breathing hard, hoping Mark could talk to you. But instead he switched the positions making you underneath him, his lips never left yours. You felt him slowly pullout and it made you whine, a little disappointed. “Baby why -“ but the moment you voiced out your disappointment, he came slamming in your pussy making you moan a little louder than before.

His pace was slow, enough to make you both crazy and at the same time wanting for more. Mark is completely taking control now, “Remind me to fuck you raw again next time” you gasped at what he just said leaving you in awe and making you more turned on. You switched positions again making you on top, straddling him. “You won’t give up, do you?” he intertwines his fingers with yours, kissing both of your knuckles. “Nope. Told you I want to take control tonight” he nods in approval, he grabs your boobs while you grind on top of him. The view of you grinding slowly and then suddenly bouncing on his cock, not taking your eyes off him is something he will never forget.

He slapped your ass leaving you shocked. “Is that that the best you got, don’t make me switch positions again” you scoffed and doubled your pace making his head turn left and right, “You’re saying that as if you’re not on edge already. Mark, baby, you don’t know what you’re saying” you bite back.

“You’re right- fuck - Im gonna cum” to his surprise you switched positions again, encircling your arms around his neck kissing him like crazy.

“Pullout. Show me you can” you challenged him again.

He smirked and sucked his thumb, putting it on your clit stimulating you while he pounds your pussy. You regret putting him in charge again, you feel your high coming making your legs weak. “Oh my go- Mark!” You whine and moan making him stop when you already came. You saw him pullout, pump his cock and ruining his blue sheets, his eyes still not leaving you. Still on high from your orgasm , you cover your face with all your energy left telling him to stop looking at you.

“Mark, stop looking at me while you jerk off. You’re turning me on”

You closed your eyes still avoiding his gaze, but he went in between your legs again spreading your folds and licks your cunt. Making you quiver and gasp pushing his head away from your pussy but you feel so weak. All you can do now is give in to what he’s doing. You came again for the second time tonight, and you swear you feel so tired.

Mark felt so accomplished by making you feel good and tired tonight. He didn’t expect that fucking you raw can make him more addicted to you than he already is. You felt wet kisses all over your body, hearing him giggle and laugh from time to time. “Hmm. Im not yet tired. Want round two?” He licks your hard nipples, touching and pinching them to wake you up. You both know that saying no to round two will only make you both horny the next day.

“Give me a few minutes” you asked of him.

“Nope. Nu-uh” he’s teasing your slit again, making you sensitive and shiver under him.

Starting that night, you’ve drawn to each other even more. And having sex at least once a week without condom became a thing for the both of you. It’s not that having sex with condoms bore you, it’s just that Mark fucking you raw made the sex even more better than before.

“I’m telling you! He was completely out of his mind the moment-“ Mark quickly covers your mouth before you tell Jeno everything about the first night you two fucked raw. Jeno was laughing the whole time teasing Mark while he mixed drinks, not letting Mark get away with this.

“You’re so dead later” Mark threatened you again with a kiss on your temple.

After a few weeks, Mark insists on using condoms again because he’s scared he might not control himself anymore and cum instead you. “Is it too late for me to try taking pills?” he didn’t stopped you when you suggested it, “only if you’re comfortable with taking it, okay?” You nod.

When your final wave of exams are finished, everyone was out celebrating. That means Mark will be busy serving drinks again on a Friday night. Your best friend wants to get drunk so bad because she and Jeno had a fight. All you can do is be with her, meddling with other’s relationship is not actually your thing. You can only assure to Jeno that you’re taking care of her.

“Don’t let her drink too much” Jeno begs. You both know that your best friend is stubborn and she gets a little too alcoholic whenever they fight. “I’ll try” you said, giving him a frown and you went back to the table.

You felt sick a minute after your best friend threw up for the third time tonight. The smell of her puke made you dizzy and throw up too. You wished for this night to end soon.

Mark was quick too find you the moment you’re nowhere to be found around the area. He found you on the bathroom floor leaning on the wall. “Y/n, what on earth? I barely gave you drinks tonight” you felt so weak, your head hurts you cant speak.

The next day, you woke up on Mark’s bed wearing one of his shirts and comfortable sweatpants. You saw him on his small kitchen making pancakes, while drinking coffee. You quietly sneaked behind him giving him morning kisses and thanking him for taking care of you last night. “To make you feel even better, Jeno made amends last night he apologised before they went home” it indeed made you feel better but not physically, you feel like throwing up again leaving Mark at the kitchen and running to the bathroom as quick as you can.

You threw up on the toilet making you feel disgusted to yourself, cursing all the alcoholic beverages you drank last night. Mark came in leaning on the door with a glass of water, worried about you and to what’s happening in your body. He didn’t want to think about it, but he suspects you’re pregnant.

“When was the last time you had your period?” That question from Mark made you completely irritated. You shrugged it off, not telling him a word. Thinking maybe he’s right.

The whole morning was quiet, something that never happens whenever you and Mark spend breakfast together. You asked him to take you home because you’re worried your parents might get mad at him.

When you got home, you checked your menstrual cycle only to find out you’re four weeks late. You were scared of course. Mark knew what exactly you were going to do so he didn’t leave yet. You saw him standing outside your room, looking at you as if he knew already what you just found out.

“I’m here. I’ll take responsibility”

You cried and cried that night while Mark holds you tight. Blaming no one but yourself. Mark is trying his best to comfort you and be with you, letting you know that he will never leave you all throughout the process. “All we have to do is be honest with the people around us. Specially to your parents, they love you. Im sure sure they help is through this. I’ll talk to my parents as well” hearing him talk like this makes you wonder what did you do deserve Mark.

Telling your parents that you’re pregnant is never easy. But having someone beside you while you feel like your world is suddenly crashing down is a different kind of blessing that you don’t deserve. Mark was there holding your hand the whole time when you told your family about being pregnant. And he was right, your parent loves you.

Nothing was easy about teenage pregnancy. It challenges you mentally and physically. You feel like a completely different person when you first saw your baby bump, but nothing compared to the feeling when the doctor told you and Mark that you’re having a baby boy.

“Okay, how about Marco? Marcus? So we could call him Marky” you laughed at the baby names your boyfriend suggests. They’re not bad, but it’s funny how he still wants to name the baby after his name.

When the day finally came, you were fighting for your life and you were sent to the hospital 2 weeks early before the estimated date of your delivery. Everyone was nervous, and patiently waiting outside the delivery room. And when the doctor finally came out, everyone burst into tears.

“Her delivery was not easy, but y/n and the baby are safe now”

Mark Wanted to scream, and tell everyone in the hospital how he’s so proud of you for fighting for your own life and for Marco’s. When he saw you and his baby for the first, he cried. Telling soft wishes beside the baby’s ear, playing with it’s small hands.

You and Mark were great parents even though you’re both young for that role. He had double shifts at the bar so he can earn more. Telling everyone that you delivered the baby safely and that he’s saving up so people will start seeing him more and serving more drinks.

You on the other hand, is completely hands on with your son, taking care of him 24/7 and not letting anyone touch your baby except Mark and your parents. You decided to leave school and return next year with Mark so the both of you can provide a great future for your baby.

The baby is now five months old and everyone is excited to meet him. But its not safe to bring him on Jeno’s birthday. So you asked for your parents to look after baby Marco for tonight. You and Mark kissed baby Marco goodbye as you went out to head to the bar.

“Do you think it’s right to make your parents take care of our baby just because it’s Jeno’s birthday?” Mark asked.

“I feel guilty too baby, but you need to work. And I promised Jeno. Besides its only for tonight and Im not drinking tonight, not a drop” he nods.

When you both arrived at the bar, Mark went straight to work, kissing you a couple of times before letting you go. As usual your best friend is already drunk, but trying her best to sober up because she’s the one driving you home tonight. You greet Jeno a happy birthday, telling him to stop giving his girlfriend alcohol and start giving her water.

“And speaking of water, heres yours my love” Mark gave you a glass of water reaching for a kiss. “Mark Im going to be drunk tonight, drunk in love” your boyfriend blushed but rolls his eyes on you.

You went back to your best friend with her glass of water, making her drink all of it. “Y/n I want to go home. I promised Jeno I wouldn’t stay late because I have early classes tomorrow” you nod and helped her gather her stuff, putting her jacket on. Mark was serving drinks at the other side of the bar, so you made Jeno tell him that you went home already.

Mark was grabbing a glass at the rack when suddenly one of it slipped through his hand, something that never happened before. “It’s okay I got it, go make drinks they want 10 rum cokes. You’re the expert” Hyuck grabs the broom and cleaned up.

Talking to people while mixing drinks is his thing, he heard Jeno called him a few times but he ignored him and kept on taking orders from people. He felt someone grabbed him from behind only to find out it was Jeno. Tears falling completely speechless.

When someone finally talked to Mark about what happened, his world stopped.

That night, you and your best friend died from car crash.

Mark was beyond heartbroken. He never talked to Jeno ever again because he’s scared he might hate him for the rest of his life. He asked for some time before he’s ready to face his best friend again. After the funeral, Mark talked to your parents and begged them to take care of Marco. Not because he’s running away from his responsibilities but because he knew he can’t take care of his son if he’s depressed. Mark never felt so lonely in his life.

He went back to Korea to his parents to seek comfort and asked them to help him stand with his own feet again. He experienced a different kind of sadness every day, crying every night because you’re alive and well in his dreams, he sometimes imagine that you’re still alive and making himself believe that you’re still here. But Mark knew better. He’s desperate to move on and be better for his son.

After a year, Mark is still experiencing the stages of grief meaning he’s still not capable of taking care of his son, which he agrees. But he realised its not right for him to miss out on in his son’s growth. Slowly with the help of his parents and your parents, he fixed himself again for his son. Although he’s still grieving, he pushes himself to go back to school and finish college. It’s something you would him to do.

5 years later

All is well and on the right track again. Marco grew well with the help of everyone who witnessed him struggle. Mark is financially stable and has a proper home for him and his son. The boy is still young to understand about death but Mark made sure you’re always present in their lives. Keeping pictures of you around the house so he’s familiar with your beautiful face, trying his best on teaching his son the way you would teach him so he would live up just like his mother.

Whenever little Marco and Mark forgets to brush their teeth Mark will always remind him that you will get mad, “Come on you little dork, if mom is here she will surely yell at us.”

Mark cried when Marco asked why he doesn’t have a mom, “No baby don’t say that. Mom is watching us from above, you don’t need to worry about a thing. Were both here with you”

By the time Marco was not so baby anymore and he finished grade school “Mom is proud of you kiddo” Mark finally brought him to your grave and explained what happened as light as possible so he wouldn’t get sad overwhelmed.

As part of moving on and forgiving, Mark and Jeno finally talked again after years and years of building their life again. Jeno and Haechan became great uncles to Marco, taking care of him with all their might because they see you in you in your son.

Mark never understood why such tragedies occur in your life, but he believes that you can take care of both him and your son from up there and that comforts him.

The end. ................................................. Masterlist Thanks for reading! If you came to this point, I hope you enjoyed it! I tried writing something longer but this is all I could manage. hehe.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #cznet #nct smut #nct mark lee #mark lee smut #nct fluff #fluff mark lee #nct angst #mark lee angst #nct #nct mark #nct imagines #mark lee

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queenofanime · 4 years ago

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What if?

Okay, so I have decided to make a series of one-shots with different animes but as Telenovelas. I think it is pretty clear where I got the idea from, but oh well. Haikyuu! …But as a Telenovela!

Warning: unplanned pregnancy, teen pregnancy. A lot of DRAMA and (a failed attempt) of HUMOR

Our story begins seven years ago, when (Y/n) Gloriana González Pérez was ten years old. (It should be noted that at that age, (Y/n)'s passions included: Family, Telenovelas, God, and grilled cheese sandwich. The order is not important)

And on that day, she was taught to protect her flower.

"Look at the white flower in your hand, (Y/n)" said María Elena, who was (Y/n)'s grandmother. (Maria Elena's passions consist of God and (Y/n). In that particular order) "Now crumble it"

And (Y/n) did as told. The once white flower turned brown and decay.

"Now, try fixing it" grandma continued. The young girl tried, but the flower was clearly ruined. "I-I can't" "Exactly" repeated the older woman. "That's what happens to your virginity once you lose it. It can never turn back. Don't forget it, ever."

And forget, (Y/n) never did. Because like the good responsible catholic Latina she was, (Y/n) promised herself she would save it for marriage.

"Are we there yet!? Are we, are we!?" Hinata asked for the 37th time, and as the past 36 questions, the answer was no. However, everyone was getting a little annoyed and impatient. Right now the team was heading to a training camp, along with Nekoma's and Fukurodani's respective teams. And as always, Hinata couldn't hold his excitement. (Y/n), on the other hand, was a different story.

A few months ago, she had transferred from Miami to Japan. As expected, the adaptation was challenging, but thankfully her new friends (the team) were there for her. In no time, (Y/n) found a waitressing job in a hotel in Tokyo and settled down in school. When everyone asked her if she could accompany them to training as an unofficial manager, she really couldn't object.

"Hey (Y/n) are you feeling okay?" Asked Suga, who had been sitting beside her the whole bus ride. "That's your third water bottle. Do you feel nauseous?" He asked again. "Nah, don't worry about it. I'm fine" She claimed with a smile, even though she was lying through her teeth. Suga noticed too but decided not to ask further. Truth be told, (Y/n) was feeling quite sick. At first, she thought it was the feeling of being homesick and nervous; She quickly dismissed the idea when her head started killing her.

"Now we are here," called Coach Ukai from the front of the bus. If (Y/n)'s being honest, she really likes the coach. He's a good guy, (even with all the smoking he does). He even let her work as a cashier in his family store.

At his words, Hinata jumped. His praying had actually worked. He couldn't wait to get into a volleyball court and spike the ball as hard as he could. (Y/n) was secretly relieved as well. Her body was heavy and she needed to get off.

From the window, she could already see Kuroo and Akashi waving, while Bokuto jumped with excitement. (Y/n) also noticed Kenma was standing shyly behind his captain, but he was there, nonetheless.

When the bus came to a stop, the teenage girl calmly got up. A wave of nausea and light-headiness came over her, but she manages to control it. Once she was out of the bus and tasted fresh air, she would be back to her old self. Giving a hand with the luggage, (Y/n) finally gets out and before she understands what's going on, two strong arms are sneaking their way into her hips. Bokuto lifted her body and started to twirl her around. Unbeknown to Bokuto, this small action was the final blow for (Y/n)'s sickness. As soon as her feet touch the ground again, her vision turns black.

(Y/n)'s orbs roam lightly. She is unable to recognize the unfamiliar room. Voices are heard from a distance... or maybe closer. It almost sounds as... as coach? and Suga?

Opening her eyes a little more, she manages to make out shapes. 'What the hell happened?' (Y/n) can't remember. Her head still feels fuzzy but she manages to sit up. Her eyes adapting to the light of the room. "He-hey..." the girls say. Her voice was still raspy and dried. This caught the attention of those in the room.

Karasuno's mother setter is the first to approach her. "Hey, are you okay!? OMG, I knew something was off!"

(Y/n) could only let out a small chuckle. Sugawara really did know her. "I'm fine now. Don't' sweat it!"

The second person who came closer was Coach Ukai. "Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?"

(Y/n) just smiled, "Better. I'm sorry I crashed the camp."

"Oh don't worry about it! Everyone started practicing." Ukai's hand ran through his dyed hair and into the back of his neck. "Although Bokuto is in emo mode." (Y/n)'s face changed into one of guilt. She had completely forgotten the fact that she had passed out in his arms. She couldn't help feeling flustered at how cheesy the situation had been.

(Y/n)'s train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the medic entering the room. "Well," He clears his throat. "We ran some test. Nausea and fainting spell solved... You're pregnant."

Now, the news might have shocked both Ukai and Suga, but (Y/n) couldn't help but snort at his words.

The three men are now looking at the girl who is frantically laughing. Finally catching her breath, (Y/n)'s eyes look up to the doctor. "Sorry, is just that, I'm not pregnant."

The doctor was taken aback by her confidence and security but recovered. "We tested your urine."

"Trust me. The test is wrong."

"False negatives are frequent, false positives are rare..." The doctor tried to reason.

Suga looked concerned. "H-hey (Y/n), don't you think you might just be in denial... This is a pretty b-big deal."

(Y/n) could only let out small chuckles. "No, I'm not in denial. And it might be rare but it happened. Because I'm a virgin."

Ukai choked on his own saliva while the other two males looked at (Y/n) dumbfounded and in shock.

"Y-you're a-a vir-a virgin? You are a virgin. A VIRGIN." The doctor kept murmuring, clearly confused.

There was no trace of lying or deceiving in (Y/n)'s face. Just pure innocence and truthfulness.

Confused, the doctor went to grab another test and the fluid. He tried once again. "Pink means pregnant." And folks, let me tell you the sample was pink, very very pink.

"But I've never had sex." repeated (Y/n). Worry and disbelief lingering in her voice.

"The results say otherwise. Clearly you are not a virgin."

His comment sparked a flame of anger in the girl, but she decided to keep herself in check.

"This is clearly a mistake. A hormonal thing or something."

"Yes, hormonal pregnancy."

"No," She said as if venom was dripping through her mouth. "I'm not pregnant."

"I understand this is unplanned..." kept saying the doctor. While Coach kept mumbling something between the lines of miracle, and Suga just stayed there unable to process the information. Over the chaos, (Y/n) grabs the phone and dials.

"Hello this is (Y/n) Gonzalez. I need to talk to Dr. Jabami, some crazy doctor is saying I'm pregnant!?"

One hour and a half has passed since (Y/n) called her doctor. By now, some of the other players have become interested in the situation. Not that anyone knew what was happening except Ukai, the doctor, Dr. Jabami (who was on her way), (Y/n), Sugawara, and Takeda sensei.

After waiting a couple of minutes, the woman is known as Hanna Jabami finally entered the room.

(Y/n) quickly jumped out of bed. "Oh my God! Dr. Jabami there has been a terrible mistake. I don't know why the tests keep coming positive, but there must be an explanation!" Panic and anxiety were clear in the girl's voice. Ukai couldn't help but noticed the unknown female doctor was looking guilty and with a sense of pity in her eyes.

"The reason those tests came back positive... is because..." Hanna Jabami was having difficulty explaining the situation. "The reason is that... I accidentally inseminated you two weeks ago."

"What?" "You what?" Said in unison (Y/n) and Takeda

The doctor put her hands up defensively. "It was a mistake. I made a mistake. And there was only a 20 percent chance it would take, so I thought... I thought you might never know. Except that -- things turned out differently."

It should be noted that at this moment, (Y/n) is panicking. Time seems slow. The only thing she can do is breathe in and breath out. She felt her heart in her throat.

"I'm so sorry (Y/n)" interrupted the voice of Hanna. "There are options of course. You can have the baby or -- this is a prescription for -- a pill -- you can take. You are under no obligation to consult with the father. Though he knows and he would like to speak-- "The father" says (Y/n), having trouble breathing. She hadn't even been thinking about the father. (Y/n) is in shock. Numb almost. Abruptly, she stands up. "I got to go. I gotta leave."

"Where are you going?" exclaims Suga but (Y/n) doesn't respond. She just leaves.

#telenovela #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #unplanned pregnancy #teen pregnancy #female reader #haikyu x y/n #drama

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im-a-simp1 · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets The Eye: Part 1: Esmeray

Summary: Y/n goes to Midtown Tech for her first day of school but that is not the only first that happens to her

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Cute awkward teenagers, there are some subtle hints of male dominance(no abuse actually happens but there could be some triggering to people so please beware of that)

*I know I haven’t posted this part in awhile, I just finished finals which were a pain in the butt

Series Materlist

Masterlist

Y/n POV

I take a final look at my outfit for my first day of school at Midtown Tech. It’s been weird that I haven’t been at school for about 5 to 6 months, well my dad says it’s because of my powers. He said that after curing me, it gave me powers as a side effect. I had the ability to poison anything at the touch of my hand. Before I could go anywhere, I needed to learn to control it. I had to learn how to touch things without poisoning them. After months of practicing controlling it, I finally got it under wraps, for the most part. As I looked at the mirror, putting the final touches to my outfit, I was ready. I had my hair curled, wore my favorite oversized crew neck that was a basic dark green crew neck but it was super comfy. I wore my ripped jeans to match with it. With just a light makeup look of some foundation and mascara, I was set. I grabbed my backpack and started making my way down the stairs, my dad meets me at the bottom.

“Are you excited for your first day of school?” He asks

“I am. More importantly I’m ready to get out of the house. I feel myself going crazy looking at the same walls.”

“I know you have been patient and have been working really hard on controlling your powers” I look down at my hands, I am praying that they don’t fail me today. If I mess up, I am most likely never leaving the house ever again.

“Oh speaking of I got something for you” he turns around and grabs a pair of black gloves and hands them to me.

“You're joking right?”

“I’m sorry Y/n but you have to wear them. They are designed to help control your powers. It’s just for safety precautions”

“But dad, no one wears gloves. Everyone is going to think I’m weird and that’s not really the reputation I am going for”

“And no one else else has powers like you do so you are going to wear them even if they aren’t cool” he put air quotations at the last word there.

I groaned at him. I get that he is trying to protect me but this is going to be a problem at school, people are going to ask questions.

“How long do I have to wear gloves for”

“It is just till when I think it is safe enough”. Wait hold on. Um how will he know when he isn’t even there to see if it is “safe”.

“And what will I say if people ask why I wear gloves? Because people will definitely will be asking”

“Just come up with something like oh I don’t know, maybe you burnt your hands recently I don’t know and I don’t care and all I know is that you are wearing the gloves. End of discussion” He said the last part more sterningly. I knew that I wasn’t going to win this argument.

I rolled my eyes and put on the gloves. Thankfully they were actually pretty comfortable, hopefully they stay that way for the rest of the school day. I get them on and my dad and I walk to the car.

“Hey where’s Harry?” I asked Dad

“He is going to a boarding school this year”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry about it kiddo”

It was odd that Harry was going to boarding school, he is a nice well behaved teen, well it seemed like it, I didn’t really know to be honest. Harry and I barely even talked, Harry didn’t seem like he was a big fan of me. Every time he saw me enter the same room as him he would roll his eyes and walk out of the room and times where he is forced to be in the same room as me, he barely looked or spoke to me. Did I do something that offended him? I know I’m adopted and that I’m not his sister biologically but he acts like he disgusts me. Even if I had done anything to him I wouldn't have remembered. Dad said that when he cured me, apparently one of the side effects was that I don’t have any recollection of my long term memory before waking up in a chamber. Another side effect was that when I touch things, they die. I hate it so much, I couldn’t touch anything for the longest time. When I touched a plant, it died. When a butterfly landed on my hand when it flew into my room, it died. I even almost killed someone because I forgot about it and went to shake someone’s hand once but thankfully my dad stopped me. After months of learning how to control my powers, I got it under control, for the most part. Sometimes I lose my focus and slip up. I hate when slip up happens. Not only do I get mad at myself but my father gets mad at me too, which is ten times worse. Maybe it is a good thing to wear these gloves, I don't want people to think that I am going to kill them with the touch of my hands. Dad’s chauffeur, George, met us at the car. He opened the door for my dad and I and we got in. I was fortunate to live in a home that was wealthy enough to help me save from my sickness and have resources to help me control my powers. We were silent the majority of the time as Geroge was driving us to my school.

“Hey Dad, you talk about how I had this sickness when you cured me, which I am grateful for but what was my sickness again”

He turns his head slowly towards me and looks at me for a moment. I can see the deliberation in his eyes.

“It was a rare disease that they had recently discovered. With it being recently discovered, the doctors had no cure for it, that is when I took on the challenge. I created the cure but it came with some big sacrifices.” He took my hands into his. I knew what the sacrifices were, he didn’t need to tell me.

“Thank you, for telling me and saving me”

“Of course, anything for you” He leans and kisses me on my temple. We pull up to the front of the school. As I was about to get out of the car, my dad grabbed my arm stopping me before I could get out.

“Oh and Y/n, one more thing”

“Yeah what is it?”

“People can’t know that I am your father”

“And why is that?”

“Let’s just say that kids would treat you very differently if they found out that you were my daughter”

“But I have always been your daughter, won’t people have already known that? I know I may not remember but they will. I mean didn’t do junior high with them?”

“Y/n we moved here not too long before you got sick. So no one who you are because you didn’t grow up with them or that you are my daughter.”

“So no one knows that I am a daughter of a multi millionaire?”

“Nope” he said with a little too much joy from what I saw. “Your new last name is y/l/n. I have already taken care of your records at the schools office. Trust me you don’t want people knowing I’m your dad. It’s for the best.”

“And why is that?” I questioned him, wanting a more specific answer. I have always gotten vague answers from him whenever I ask questions and I am getting sick of it.

“Someday you will know why but for now people can’t know okay?” His grip on my arm gets a little bit more strong.

“Okay fine. I won’t” I rip my arm out from him. I exit the car before he can tell me anything else I can or can not do, the do’s and don’ts list keeps becoming bigger and bigger.

“Have a good day!” He shouts as the car leaves.

I turn around to face the school. All of a sudden my nerves kick in all at once. I am going into this big new school. Knowing that I will be the new girl that has no friends, no guidance. I hoped that Harry could give me, obviously that didn’t work out. Even if he was here I don’t know if he would help me. He would have been nice enough to at least tell me where the office was but no he wasn’t here. I entered the school and was immediately overwhelmed with how many students there were. It seemed that people were constantly bumping into each other as they passed people in the hallway. I looked around to see any kind of guidance of where to go and saw a sign that said office with an arrow sign right next to it. Well that’s a good start.

Peter’s POV

I was walking with Ned through the crowded hallways on our way to our first class.

“How was your weekend” Ned asked

“It was alright, didn’t do a whole lot. Just homework and stopping criminals” I smiled. Even though Ned accidentally found out about my secret, it has been nice to talk to someone about it.

“I heard, the robbery you saved was all over the news.”

He replied as we were stepping into our class. I didn’t even get 3 steps into the class when Mr. Harrington stopped me.

“Peter I need you to go to the office for me. There is a new student today and you have been asked to guide them today.”

“Isn’t that like an ASB president job or something? ”Mr. Harrington looked at Peter confused, with the comment that was so not like Peter.

“It’s not that I am trying to be rude or anything I really not but I’m not the best person to show people around the school.” Plus I really don’t need someone to tagging along with me watching my every move, I am fearful enough that someone else is going to figure out my secret.

“Well that is true, about the ASB part, and maybe a little on you not being the best guide but they have most of their classes with you and I have already volunteered you so you have to do it” Mr. Harrington replied.

Great.

I walked out of the classroom and made my way down to the office, the hallway was getting less crowded with people slowly entering their classrooms. As I was making my way down, I realized that Mr. Harrington said the new student had most of my classes, not all. As long as we don’t have chemistry together, we will be okay. I needed to make web shooters today and that wasn’t going to happen if the new student was nearby, watching my every move. As I entered the office, I was greeted by the receptionist.

“What brings you in here today?” The lady said with a very monotone voice not even looking up at me.

“Um hi, I am here to show the new student-“

“Peter!” The principal came around the corner, catching me a little off guard.

“Principal Morita! You scared me there for a second.”

“Oh sorry about that Peter. Anyway I wanted to introduce you to our new student y/n y/l/n.”

Oh. My. God.

I was speechless. Noises around me were drained out as I stared at her. She is one if not the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She has the most beautiful y/e/c, they literally sparkle and y/h/l y/h/c is gorgeous soft looking hair I have ever seen. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I started to hear faint noises that were trying to catch my attention.

“Peter… Peter are you with us” was I heard from Principal Morita that caused me to snap back to reality.

“Um yeah I um I’m here” looking at the principal to clarify that he was with them. I can feel the redness growing on my cheeks. Great.

“Good I thought we lost you there for a second” he chuckled as I felt my face turn even more red than before. I realized I haven’t even talked to her yet.

“Um yeah sorry I haven’t introduced myself I’m Peter Parker” as I reach my hand out to shake her hand.

“Hi Peter, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you” as she reaches for my hand, she seemed a little hesitant at first but once we made our hands touch she seemed to be relieved. I noticed that she was wearing gloves which I thought were old but it seemed inappropriate to ask her about it right now.

“It’s nice to meet you t-too” he starts to stubble on his words. This usually happens when he gets nervous.

“So um shall we get to class? I think classes may have started” she more asked then stated.

“Oh yes you two go on, don’t want to be more last then you already are” Principal Morita says as he is shooing is out of his office.

“I g-guess we shall,” I replied as we start walking to class.

“So um y/n what classes do you have?” I asked

“Um let’s see” as she pulls out her class schedule. I looked over to see what her schedule looks like to see that we don’t have chemistry together.

Well that’s good.

“So it looks like we have every class but chemistry together”

“Oh okay. So we have calculus right now with Mr. Harrington?”

“Yes you are correct”

“How is he, you know, as a person and a teacher”

“He’s um, a nice guy. I little oblivious but he’s nice”

“How so?”

“Well one time we decided to pull a prank on him and we changed his computer screensaver to a Bernie Sanders meme where he was sitting on the bench and apparently Mr. Harrington didn’t even notice it till the next day.” I guess it was pretty funny to her because I see her start laughing about it. She has the cutest laugh.

“Oh my god that is so funny. He didn’t notice till the next day?!” She says as she is laughing even more.

“Yep. Told you he is oblivious”

“Yeah sounds like it”

We arrived at our first class and all of the eyes of the class shifted to us as we entered the room.

“Ah welcome! Everyone this is our new student…” he waits for her to say her name. She realizes what the teacher was doing after a couple of awkward moments.

“Oh it’s y/n, y/n y/l/n”

“Welcome y/n, go ahead and take a seat”. Unfortunately the last two spots in the class were not next to each other so you guys couldn’t sit next to each other. I sat at the desk that was more towards the back where she sat more towards the middle of the room, then I realized she was sitting in the middle of the room, rightfully so. She has this appearance of her that makes her glow. It wasn’t necessary her looks, well she was gorgeous, but it was more about the way she carried herself. She was confident, happy, and seemed to be joyful all round. Peter really hoped to get to know her more. Even if this stupid little crush didn’t go anywhere he still wanted to be her friend. He found himself looking at you more than paying attention to what Mr. Harrington was saying. With that said he realized that looking at you this long was probably creepy but he was just caught up on how beautiful you are. He was snapped back to reality when the bell rang ending the class. He grabbed his things and walked over to y/n who just finished collecting her things and putting them into her backpack.

“Ready for our next class?” I asked her

“Yeah, what’s next again?”

“Spanish” I replied as we started to class

“Peter! Wait up!” Peter hears a familiar voice behind him. He honestly forgot that Ned was in their last class.

“Oh hey Ned! Ned, this is y/n and y/n this is Ned. He’s my best friend”

“Nice to meet you Ned” y/n shook Ned’s hand

“You too! I’m sorry if I sound rude but why are you wearing gloves?” Peter looked at Y/n’s hands to see what Ned was talking about. Peter took another look at her gloves and found them rather odd. They weren’t your average cotton gloves, they seemed to be custom made, expensive gloves.

“Oh yeah um I was in a house fire and my hands got burned really bad. That’s kinda why my dad, my brother, and I moved. Though my brother is at boarding school so it is just my dad and I now. My hands are currently healing right now from it but I have to wear there’s gloves till they are fully healed”

“Well I’m glad you are okay. What’s your next class?”

“Spanish”

“Oh cool okay I got to go to English but I will meet up with you guys at lunch” Ned’s tone was more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah sounds great Ned” I replied to him. I wasn’t going to force y/n to sit with us at lunch so I answered more for myself. She might make some friends before then and would rather sit with them than us.

“See you at lunch Ned!” She shouted at him as he was heading to English

Not too long afterward we started to walk to class and she spoke, “Ned seems really nice”

“Yeah he is. He can’t keep a secret to keep his life but yeah he is a great guy”

“You both seem like nice guys” I smiled with a slight chuckle.

“Thanks,” I reply. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t Ned and didn’t call me ‘penis parker’. I really do hope y/n and I become good friends.

It was lunchtime and y/n, Ned, and I were sitting at the cafeteria getting to know each other well more of Ned and I getting to know Y/n and Y/n getting to know us. She was kinda vague about her background, just that she was in a house fire and that her family moved here recently but I didn’t press onto it, I didn’t want to push a subject that she seemed she didn’t want to talk about. She also talked about how she got really sick and how her father was able to cure her before doctors could, apparently her doctors gave up on trying to cure her but her dad didn’t and was able to. Which is quite impressive for a new disease that was just discovered.

“Wow that’s amazing! How was he able to do it?”

“Well um he never really told me what he gave me but it worked and I didn’t question it. If it works it works.”

“And what was it actually? How did the disease affect you?” I asked.

“Well um, I kinda really don’t know, I lost some memory during that time which was one of the side effects of the cure. My dad didn’t really say to be honest. I think he just likes to forget how painful it was for him”. This just seemed weird. Her dad seemed very vague with her.

“Well enough about me, what about you guys? What do you guys like to do for fun?” You could tell she was done talking about herself

“Well we-” I started out, trying to think of something cool.

“We do a lot of Star Wars stuff,” Ned said confidently, interrupting me.

“Dude, come on” I turned to Ned in disbelief he just said that to a girl he wanted to impress. Most girls run the other direction when they start talking about Star Wars.

“I... love... Star Wars”

We turned to look at her in awe. We never encountered a girl who liked Star Wars. To my surprise, it seemed that she looked surprised with herself. I don’t know what she was confused about.

“You like Star Wars?” I wanted a clarification that I heard her right.

“Yeah...Yeah I do like Star Wars” she sounded like she was giving herself clarification.

“Hey well if you want to you don’t have to but do you want to come over and build the millennial falcon together? I just got it for Christmas and haven’t built it yet”

“Peter what about the Stark internship?” Ned bogging me in the gut, causing me to release a small groan from him just elbowing me in the side. Ned loons I’ve to me and tries to whisper to me under his breath so that only I could hear him. I reassured Ned of my plan.

“Do have that today but afterward, maybe around 6:30ish? Y/n would you be down for that?”

“Um yeah I would. Would you guys give me a second I need to go to the bathroom” she got up before we could say anything to her. I hope she is okay, I could tell her heart was beating a little faster then before.

Y/n POV

I just needed to get away for a moment, I just had the weirdest moment of my life happen to me. I have never heard of let alone talk about Star Wars till today. When Ned mentioned Star Wars, I had this rush of memories come back to my head of Star Wars and what it was about. And not only my knowledge of it but the emotions I had for it. It all rushed to me. I have never had this happen to me before. I just knew I felt overwhelmed and just needed to get away for a moment to take it all in. Was my long term memory coming back? If that is what this is, which is what I am hoping for, I will get my long term memories back which will be great, I would get to feel like me again. Not remembering my past has made me feel like I just appeared out of nowhere. It made me feel like I was a robot, with no background. But after this gave me hope of getting back to the way things used to be. I headed back to the cafeteria where Peter and Ned still were, you were glad you got lucky to meet Peter and Ned on your first day here. You knew you would be grey friends with them from here on out. Plus Peter wasn’t too bad to look at. He gets so cute when he gets nervous. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have him as my guide for school today. All of a sudden, your hands felt the urge to touch something, with your bare hands. You had to push this feeling down for now. The powers like to have a mind of their own but I had better control than that. Taking deep breaths and focusing on anything besides your hands was the way to settle the urge. I started to think about how I had plans with my new friends that invited me to go build a ship from a franchise that you all of sudden fell in love with. You were excited to have friends in general. Dad has always kept me from others so I didn’t really talk to a whole lot of people, really him and Harry, well only if Harry takes to me. But I was glad to have friends who liked me, at least I thought they liked me. No had had to think positive thoughts and only positive thoughts to keep the urge away. Yes they do like me or they would have not invited me over, they do like me, they do like me, they do like me. It was what I told myself as the urge started to go away, for now. Thankfully I got rid of it in time once I was fully returned to the urge. The bell rang for lunch to be over.

“Well I will see you guys tonight?” Ned asked. Again clarifying if we were on the same page.

“Yes see you tonight at Peters!”

The school day was officially done. I had gotten Peter’s number after last class together for him to text me the address to his apartment. The last class of the day, the only class I didn’t have with Peter, was lonely. Just with me being so nervous and being my first day, Peter just brought this comfort essence that made me feel okay. But now without him, it wasn’t the same. No one was as welcoming as him, this girl in the corner drew a picture of me saying that she draws people who look like they don’t belong, which was weird but kinda oddly charming at the same time but it was weird. Once the day was done I checked my phone to see if my dad texted saying if he was here to pick me up, to be honest I didn’t know if he was going to text me. Fortunately he texted me, unfortunately he said I had to walk home. I groaned at the text message. Thankfully it was only a 20-30 minute walk from the school to the apartment but still you really weren’t in the mood for walking. Eventually arriving at the apartment you walk in and see my dad cutting up lettuce, from the looks of it getting dinner ready. Wait why couldn’t he pick me up? But I knew better than to ask. You didn’t feel like getting into an argument right now.

“Hey dad”

“Hey honey how was school?”

“It was good, I made some friends!” I said with a little bit more excitement than before.

“Oh that’s great honey” although he didn’t seem to really mean it. He hasn’t even looked up at you since you walked in and his tone was dull. He didn’t really seem like he cared.

“I’m going to my room to do some homework”

“Alright dinner will be around 5:00”

Once dinner time rolled around, we were quiet for the most part. We made some small talk but never turned into a conversation. I was going to tell him about the weird emotional moment I had today but after the way he was acting today I didn’t really want to tell him. Around 6I started to get ready to go to Peter’s. I figured I would leave around 6:30 to go to his place seeing that it would take me about 30 minutes to get there. 6:30 rolls around and I start to head out. My dad was on the couch when I was heading toward the door.

“Bye dad I’m off to my friends?”

“Excuse me what?!” He looked up from his newspaper to look at me.

“My friend invited me to go over and hangout. Don’t worry I will be back before 10”

“Y/n it is a school night”

“But I will be back around 10, having me plenty of sleep for school tomorrow”

“You are not going”

“Why not?” Getting frustrated at this point. You have never really had friends before and now that you have and you want to hangout with them, you dad decides to say no, after not letting me see people for months!

“Because I said so” he said with his firm dad voice. But you weren’t going down without a fight this time.

“No you need to give me a reason”

“I don’t need to give you anything”

“For the first time in months I found people who like me and want to be around me and you say I can’t see them just because you said so? Yeah no I’m sorry I will see you at 10 then you can ground me” I turned to the door and as I grab the handle I feel this electricity go through me. Then I felt nothing, everything went silent, and everything went black.

3rd POV

“Raise Esmeray” Norman spoke once Y/n body was still. As Y/n’s alter ego was turned on by his simple words, her eyes opened and she stood up from where she had fallen. Once she was standing she was standing tall there, waiting for her commands to be given from her master.

“I am ready for further instruction sir”

“Good. Now the real reason why I couldn’t let you go was that I need you for tonight, I need you to hit a target for me tonight. Tonight I need you to visit an old friend of mine that owes me money. If he does not have it” he stopped as he removed Esmeray’s gloves “touch his throat with your hands. If he does have it, make sure he gives it to you and then touch his throat with your hands. Do not leave the target till he has died”

“Yes sir” had been Esmeray’s response. It didn’t even sound like Y/n at this point. It sounded like a robot that took over her.

“Now go get ready, once you are I will give you the name”

Esmeray just nodded and went to go change for her mission.

- Thank you so much for waiting so patiently. I was finishing up finals this week and I plan to post part 2 later in the week!

- In the future chapters when y/n is in their alter ego stage where Norman has control over, I’m going to reference them as Esmeray.

Esmeray means dark moon btw🌑

-Thanks for reading 😊💖

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman fic #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #series #part 1 #part 1 of many #esmeray #more than meets the eye #part 2 coming soon

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goddesswritings · 4 years ago

Text

peacefall - the adjustment | Sam Taylor

Title: peacefall – the adjustment

Pairing: AU Ghost!Sam Taylor x OC

Summary: Y/n is a writer and her books are pretty popular. She moves into a house in the country to get away from the craziness of the city. She wants to put all her focus on her next book. Weird things begin happening in the house. She discovers she has a ghost and he has quite a past. They begin to bond, but he begins to see that she is hiding something big from him. Something that will impact her life.

Word Count: 2.1k

Y/n/n = Your Nickname

MASTERLIST

********

PART ONE <<

“I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a helpless, miniature person was not it. When my older sister came to tell me, we were expecting a new sibling she reminded me that I was once that new person coming into life and that now, I share the responsibility in protecting them. That my life was going to change for the better, with this new addition to the family, as was theirs.”

Today you decided to make this ghost show itself one way or another, because you were getting sick of its games. It had been responsible for hiding the book notes. It was keeping you up half the night with the noises it would make. No matter how much noise it made, it would never show itself.

This made you realize the history of the house needed to be found and then maybe you would be able to figure out who was haunting the place. A big part of you knew the ghost was the man that was seen in that dream. Sam. But you needed to make sure that there was a Sam who did indeed live in the house. Maybe then he can settle down and let you reside with him in peace.

Waking up this morning, you felt a slight pressure in your head. This was your sign you were going to get a headache sometime during the day. So, you needed to make the trip out of the house quick, before the headache set in. Because once the headache hit, it took a full day to recover. There was no remedy for them.

Quickly getting dressed, you called a cab to take you to the library, where you knew to find information on the house you were living in. There had to be something in the books about it.

When you arrived at the library, you spotted an older lady sitting at the desk reading. You really hoped she could help.

She looked up as you approached her, “Hello, can you help me?” You questioned with a smile.

She smiled, “Of course I can. What did you need?”

Hoping you didn’t sound crazy when you told her this, you just dove right in, “I moved into town a few months ago, into a little house on Monroe Street. The house is incredibly old, I can’t really tell you how old though because I’m not good with that kind of stuff. Anyway, there have been some odd things happening in the house. I need to find out the history of the house.”

She had listened intently to you and the smile never left her face, “Oh dear, you’re the author who moved into the Taylor house.”

You tilted your head, “Oh yes, I am. Now why is it called the Taylor house?”

The woman stood up, “Why don’t we go have a seat at that table and I will tell you the history of the house.” Nodding, you followed her to the table. Settling in the chair across from her.

“In 1854, a man by the name Sam Taylor bought the house. No one knew much about the man, just that he was a very handsome fellow that had all the women wanting to become his wife. All we know is that he was an extraordinarily rich man. Oh, and he was extremely sweet. He used a lot of his money to help the town prosper.” Sam Taylor sounded like the perfect man.

“What happened to him?” As if you didn’t already know. You’d already put together that the dream was not just a dream. It was something that took place in that house, which means Sam must be the one haunting the house.

The lady frowned, “It’s not good darling. He was involved with a woman named Annabelle Porter. He was in love with her, even though she was betrothed to another man. He loved her with all his heart. People were positive she was going to leave her betrothed to marry Sam, but it didn’t play out that way. Sam disappeared without a trace.”

“Did they find him?”

She shook her head, “No dear, they didn’t. There was talk that he just simply left town because Annabelle wouldn’t marry him. But the authorities think differently. They had investigated his home to discover it had been broken into, or it seemed that way. They didn’t find anything else. But about a month after he disappeared, all his money went missing from the bank. They know that he wasn’t the one to take it.” Poor Sam.

“Oh my, that’s so sad…. Ugh.” A searing pain in your head cut you off. It was intense. You quickly gripped your head in pain.

“Are you alright dear?” The lady asked sounding afraid.

“Ugh….. no.” You were willing the pain to go away but knew it would not. “Could you…. uh…..call me a cab?” You had managed to ask this through the bursts of pain.

“Darling, don’t you think you should go to the hospital?” She was genuinely concerned at this point.

“No…..ah…. I just need to get home and……oh gosh……take my medicine.” The pain was so intense it made you want to cry. At this point, you knew that not even the medicine could help to suppress the intense throbbing. Nothing ever helped. The lady must have agreed because she rushed off to call a cab. You just stayed there, laying your head on your arms while trying to forget the pain.

Ten minutes later the lady showed up beside you, “Come on honey, your cabs here. Let me help you.” She helped you to stand up and walk outside. You were doing the best to breathe through the pain. Finally in the cab, you were on your way home. The librarian had even paid for the cab ride, how sweet of her.

When arriving home, you made your way to the kitchen and located the pain medication. Then you quickly took two before retreating off to the living room, where you passed out on the couch.

****

You guess you’d slept for a few hours, because when you were waking up you noticed that it must have been late afternoon. Also, you felt as though you were being watched. Turning your head, you saw a tall man, with Carmel eyes and dark hair. It was Sam.

Sam was looking at you with concern. It was easy tell he had been watching you for a while and it surprisingly didn’t bother you. Sitting up, you smoothed out your clothes.

“Sam?” You asked hoping to god he wouldn’t disappear because you really wanted to talk to him today.

“Yes, I am Sam.” He finally spoke.

“Are you not scared of me?” He questioned while looking you over, almost like he was trying figure out why you weren’t scared of him.

You shook your head, “No, should I be?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Everyone else who has lived in this house has been afraid of me. They all moved out with the first month. You are the first one who has stayed this long.”

“Well I don’t think there is anything to be scared of with you. You’re harmless.”

He chuckled, “Well that’s a first.”

Hearing him laugh, made you smile. It was completely crazy that you were actually conversing with a ghost right now. Add that to the list of things you would have never thought could happen. That list was getting quite long at this point.

“Yes, I suppose it is. I’m Y/n/n by the way.” You introduced yourself. You would think he would want to know the name of the woman inhabiting his house.

“Well you know that I am Sam. Sam Taylor.”

“Yes, I do.” You paused for a second, “Can I ask you some questions?” Suddenly you felt the need to know what it was like being a ghost. You needed to know how he was still here and how he was able to talk to you like this.

“Go ahead, I have eternity.” He chuckled a bit at that, you cracked a smile at his little joke.

“Hmmm okay. How long have you been trapped in this house?”

“Well I died in 1858 and its 2019 now, so I have been stuck here for 161 years.”

161 years. That was a long time to be stuck in a house like this.

“Oh wow, that’s a very long time.” You commented.

He shook his head, “It does not feel that long to be honest. Time passes a lot differently once you are dead.”

“Really? That’s cool. Umm, is it lonely?” That was a question you were afraid to ask.

He shrugged and started to walk around the room, “Sometimes it can be. It all depends on who’s occupying the house and the time of year. I don’t know why, but in the winter, it feels a lot lonelier than in any other seasons.”

“Oh.”

“Is it lonely living alone?” He suddenly asked. You hadn’t expected him to ask questions, but you welcomed it.

“I haven’t always lived alone. Right now, I need to be alone. I’m working on a particularly important book that needs to be finished and the only way I can do that is if I’m completely alone.” You couldn’t go into specifics about the book. Not yet.

“Oh okay.”

“How are you even communicating with me right now?” That was your biggest question right now.

Sam stopped pacing the room and faced you again, “I do not know how we are communicating. You are the first person to be able to see me. Other tenants were just able to hear me messing around the house. But they never actually saw me or heard me speak. No matter how hard I tried to get them to see me.” You could detect a hint of sadness in his voice. That was something you could understand.

There was an idea as to why You were able to see him right now, but you decided not to tell him.

“Well I guess I am different than them. More willing to see you maybe?”

He shrugged while looking closely at you. It felt like he could see right through you and it was a weird feeling.

“Well I am sorry for scaring you since you have been here. I was really only messing around.”

You smiled, “You didn’t scare me Sam. I knew you were only playing games and I think it’s fine.”

“You are quite different Y/n/n. No one else has been as open minded as you have been. Is there a reason you are like this?”

Suddenly you found interest in the wood floorboards, “Umm no, I don’t think so. I guess I’m just willing to experience this.”

You finally looked up to meet his eyes. Now you knew he was staring into your soul.

“Well I enjoy talking to you. I have not talked to a soul in all the time I have been dead.” He admitted.

“Wow that is an awfully long time not to talk to anyone. Please feel free to talk to me whenever because I like talking to you too.” It was the truth. Talking with Sam eased your mind of all troubles. He had a very calming personality.

“Good because I think we are going to be talking a lot.” He had the most amazing smile upon his face.

“Yes, I would like that.”

“I’m afraid I need to take a break. I don’t have much energy to talk to you for too long.”

This had you frowning because you had momentarily forgotten that Sam was a ghost. Ghosts needed energy to be able to manifest.

“Okay. I should probably go get some writing done. Please feel free to come to me whenever.” Honestly, you enjoyed being around Sam and he felt very human to you. It made you want to learn more about his life. You wanted to be able to talk to him about my life too.

“Yes, I will. Now please don’t overwork yourself Y/n Y/l/n.” He spoke before disappearing from sight.

That was weird. You don’t remember telling him your full name. You introduced yourself as Y/n/n. How did he know?

You were happy that you had slept off the headache. Now, you would be able to get some more of the book done. It needed to get done soon. You didn’t know when the deadline would be.

PART THREE >>

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years ago

Note

College au prompt where Peter becomes good friends with a new kid on campus named Harry and invites him over one night to study and tony come home to Harry on peters bed while peter takes a shower and thinks the worst. (Peter and tony are roommates btw) and when peter comes out Harry tells peter that tony came in and saw him and stormed out and peter goes out to find him and tony tells him that he thought peter cheated and he was jealous. And they spend the rest of the night curled in Tony’s bed

I hope I did this justice! Thank you sm for the prompt, and I hope that you enjoy it :’)

TW: Miscommunication | Suspected (no actual) cheating | Moderate angst | Slight hurt

The figure sprawled on their bed is immediately evident as not Peter. Tony stops short in the doorway, taking in the sight of the boy draped over the bed like he owns it.

At a passing glance or at a distance he could pass for Peter, but closer inspection tells all the differences. This boy’s hair is lighter, a little straighter. His jaw is sharper, mouth wider, eye brighter. Classically and softly handsome, not too dissimilar to Peter.

He’s shirtless, head lifting from the pillow in surprise.

“Oh! Peter didn’t tell me he was expecting-”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Tony cut in icily, ears picking up on the sound of the shower. Peter was one of those ‘must shower after sex’ kinds of people, though now and then he could be persuaded to snuggle for a while before the tackiness and drying sweat became unbearable.

It was crystal, nuclear level clear what was going on here. He didn’t need more than two braincells to rub together to take in the scene and know what he’d walked in on.

“Uh.” The other boy looked confused and a little apprehensive, brows furrowing as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. Glancing at the closed doorway of the en -uite. Tony forced himself to breathe out, forced himself to move under the leaden, cold weight of his heart.

He’d thought Peter was different.

Peter had promised him he was different. Had promised his friendliness with everyone was truly just who he was, that the only person who had his heart and body was Tony. He’d been a fucking fool for believing it, clearly.

Peter was beautiful, vibrant, insatiable. How could Tony have any singular claim to that? How could Tony have thought he could ever hoard such a treasure?

He turns away.

Barely hears the slamming of the door over the roaring in his ears. He felt sick, nausea and hurt twisting an writhing in his stomach like a live beast, ugly and wounded.

He kept replaying every moment with Peter over and over in his mind, the last texts they’d sent to each other, the last kiss, the first time they fucked, every time Peter had promised Tony, there’s nobody else but you.

He laughed, because if he didn’t laugh he’d cry. How fucking stupid had he been? Nobody was as sweet as Peter, as wholesome without using it as a smokescreen.

Peter had well and truly reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. He clutched his car keys in his palm so tightly that it began to hurt, metal ridges biting into his skin as he stalked across the campus towards the residential parking lot.

Ripping open the door to his car, he’d barely got inside and shut the door when it was yanked open again, a breathless Peter almost falling straight into his lap. Tony jerked in his seat, heart squeezing so painfully at the sight of Peter’s wild, dark eyes that for a moment he almost forgot about the rest of the hurt.

Peter was laughing.

“You’re an idiot, Anthony Edward Stark,” Peter managed, hair sopping wet and wearing nothing but a sodden shirt, boxers and unlaced sneakers. Fury coiled low and vicious in his stomach as Peter crawled into his lap, panting and red cheeked.

“Get the fuck off me, Parker,” he snapped once he’d come back to himself, once he’d reminded himself of why Peter was wet. Hurt flashed across Peter’s pretty face, lips parted and the light in his eyes flickering like a candle in the breeze for a moment, before cold hands clutched at his jaw, forcing his head up where he ducked it away, teeth grinding.

“Tony. Please, I know what you’re thinking, but if the last few months have meant anything, give me a moment to explain.”

He wanted to laugh, to shove Peter off him, but he couldn’t move. It was a cruel card to be dealt; if the last few months have meant anything to you.

They’d meant everything to him.

“You’ve got ten fucking seconds before I tip you ass-first into the dirt and leave you there,” he choked out, wrenching his jaw from Peter’s gentle touch as tears blurred his vision. He kept his hands fisted at his sides, terrified that if he let himself touch, he’d find himself either hurting or holding.

Peter let out a breath above him, teeth catching his lower lip for a moment. He was still awkwardly hunched over, crammed into the bare space between Tony and the steering wheel.

“Tony, baby. I know what it looked like, okay? But I can promise you, I swear to you, it wasn’t that. I meant to call you on my back to the dorm, but we ran into Steve and I forgot. That boy? That’s Harry.”

Harry.

The name was familiar, immediately so. It dredged up past conversations of the new kid in Peter’s chemistry class, friendly and nerdy, crushing hard on Peter’s friend MJ.

Something must’ve crossed his face because Peter looked encouraged, gripping at his shirt like Tony might still throw him out of the car at any moment.

“He’s my study partner for this assignment, Tones. That’s it, nothing else, I swear. He came to our dorm because we’re working on a project - I can even show you, and I can show you the lecturer’s list that shows us as partners. I had a glass of orange juice and we were trying to juggle the folders and the laptop and he knocked it from my hand.”

Peter looked like he might cry now, curling towards Tony like a flower towards the sun.

“Baby, please. We tipped the orange juice, and because we were sat back it went all over us. His shirt got soaked and it was in my hair, Tony, and I told him he could take one of my shirts while I showered but he just said he didn’t want to go poking around without me there and, and--” Peter’s words trailed off on a hitch, his eyes glossy as he pawed at Tony helplessly.

“Please. I could never do that, Tony. Not to you, not to anyone.”

And fuck, but if Tony wasn’t a weak man. Even as ridiculous as the story sounded he could feel himself thawing, drawn to Peter like they were tied by red string.

He could feel the hurt and the anger draining away, the jealousy at the mental image of two pretty, slender boys together fading like an old memory. Peter was staring down at him imploringly, braced like he still expected to be hit, wearing Tony’s shirt and Tony…

He let out a breath, a sound somewhere between a sob, a laugh and a growl, and dragged Peter down to his chest, sucking in a ragged breath and inhaling the scent of Peter’s coconut body wash.

Peter slumped against him, arms wrapping around his head as best he could in the cramped space, body shuddering with his own exhale.

“You’re being honest?” he whispered into the damp fabric pressed against his face and Peter shifted, reached for him against to tip his head back so they were looking each other in the eye.

“Always, Tones. Fuck, when Harry said you sounded pissed, and you’d walked away, I... I thought you were leaving me. I can’t... I know how it looked, and I’m so sorry. I should have-”

Peter’s words are cut off by Tony catching his mouth, licking into him and kissing him with enough force to bruise, pressing closer and closer until the car horn startled them both.

“We-- We should go back. I told Harry to wait while I went after you,” Peter murmured, biting at his lip, hands roaming Tony restlessly like he was afraid this was just a dream and he was about to open his eyes to Tony having driven away.

He doesn’t even know where he’d have gone. Home was a set of sparkling brown eyes and a laugh that made his heart soft and warm.

He let Peter pull him from the car, the cool air hitting the wetness on his chest and thighs from where Peter had leapt straight out of the shower, straight into clothes and straight onto him. Peter refused to let go of his hand, glancing up at him on every other step like he might change his mind.

He counted his breaths, counted his steps, tried to blink away the sight of Harry sprawled half naked on the bed, the way his gut had risen up like a tidal wave. If Peter said they hadn’t done anything…

He had no choice but to trust him.

Harry was standing upright when Peter pushed the door open, looking across at them warily like Peter had brought Tony back just to let him lay into him.

Tony drank in the sight of him again, the vague nervous-horrified expression, the empty cup on the desk behind him and the one important factor he hadn’t noticed before - the fact that one pillow case and the top cover of the bedding had been removed.

“I swear, nothing ha-” Harry begun, and Tony held up a hand, squeezing Peter’s with his other. Harry’s jaw snapped shut and his expression pinched, like he was bracing himself.

“If Peter says nothing happened...Then nothing happened,” Tony breathed out, glancing to the side at the sunny, joyful expression that Peter levelled him with. He offered a tiny, weak smile in response, still too wrung out to really comprehend the entire situation.

He still felt vaguely sick and he could feel a headache brewing behind his temples, but relief shook through him like an earthquake.

“That’s really good relationship trust right there,” Harry huffed out, wringing the hem of one of Peter’s shirts. Peter must’ve given it to him before running out.

“But also, for future reference, I’m straight. Not that Peter’s ugly! Just... Lacking. In what I like,” Harry clarified, shooting Peter an apologetic glance when the boy made a sound like he might actually be dying.

“Great?” Tony replied in puzzlement, brows lifting.

As it turns out, Harry was actually not such a bad guy. He’d recently transferred from Canada and had met Peter through their Chemistry class. He looked horrified when Tony apologised for getting the wrong idea, shaking it off with his own apology for how it looked, for not thinking about what Peter’s boyfriend might presume upon walking in.

Peter hugged Harry before he left, and Tony shook his hand, gritting out a heartfelt but reluctant sentiment that he was happy Harry had a friend in Peter, and that he hoped this hadn’t put Harry off hanging out with Peter or Tony in the future.

No sooner had he shut the door did he find a set of hands tugging at his hips, pulling him backwards until he bumped into a warm, solid body and they both toppled, landing on the bed together, entangled.

“You know I’d never cheat on you, right?” Peter mumbled against the back of his neck, arms wrapped around him. Tony gave a soft sound and shifted, rolling them so they were laying side by side now, playing little spoon as Peter wormed closer.

He’d dried off in the time they’d sat talking to Harry, but his fingertips were still cool as he slid them under Tony’s shirt collar.

“I know,” he replied gently, holding onto Peter’s arms with one hand, dropping the other to his thigh where he rubbed slow, soothing circles.

They lay there together for a while on the unmade bed, Peter breathing warm puffs of air against the back of his neck and Tony losing himself in the motion of sliding his thumb along the side of Peter’s wrist until the latter’s stomach grumbled loudly.

They reluctantly hauled themselves up and made ramen, remade the bed, then fell straight back into it. Peter wrapped himself back up around Tony as they settled, fingers entwined and the room around them quiet, content.

“Invite him back over on Friday,” Tony murmured as Peter tucked his head under his chin.

“Really?” Peter sounded dubious.

“Mm. We can invite the others too if you want, but I don’t want to scare away your new, straight friend.”

“And you won’t get jealous?” he could feel Peter’s smile against his shoulder.

“Mm, no,” he replied, tucking Peter closer. “Because before he gets here, I’m going to fuck you so full of cum it’ll be dripping out of your for hours, reminding you who you belong with.”

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #starker: angst #starker: (not) cheating #starker: hurt/comfort #starker: hurt an comfort #starker: established relationship #starker: college au #starker: alternate universe #sie fics

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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You (Part Twenty-Seven) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Talk of murder, rape. sexual assault, forced impregnation, Hybristophilia, loss of child-- literally everything Criminal Minds. Mentions of panic attack(s), anxiety, PTSD, shock, etc. (I think that covers it all. Please, if I missed anything triggering, TELL ME!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 19029

Timeline: Season 4 Episode 02. Right after part twenty-six.

There were a thousand times throughout the past week when Hotch wasn’t by my side and I felt anxious. He wanted to get back to work as quickly as the doctors cleared him, and since his leg healed pretty fast— or he was at least pretending like it had healed fast—he was back in time for the next case JJ had for us. I was still worried, however. It killed me to go to work every day while he was on bed rest. Getting to come home to him every day, though, to see that he was alive and alright, that was a relief of sorts. Leaving with him on Monday morning after picking him up from the doctor’s office was… less relieving. I mean, they cleared him, of course. He had been going to make sure that his ears were going to be okay, too, since I was worried about that, but he insisted that the doctor said everything was fine. Everything wasn’t fine, though. I could tell. I knew him well enough to know when he was lying or when he was pretending for my sake. He didn’t want me going to his checkups, and at first I understood, but then I slowly started getting suspicious when he was coming home from them without immediately coming to tell me any news— even though it was “all good news”, according to him.

I told Morgan early on that I was worried about Hotch. After New York, Morgan was trying to find ways to be more open and understanding with me. I think he realized that he had been a prick in the car that night when he said he agreed with JJ. I think he realized that he was wrong, and that his choice as my best friend was to either support me entirely or to forget me. And we didn’t want to forget each other. We had been worried sick that night, and his near death experiences in the ambulance seemed to have knocked some sense into him. So when I told him, he insisted that Hotch himself was probably okay, but he was just worried about me in the same way I was worried about him. I wanted to believe Morgan; I really did… But I told Morgan the same thing I had been telling Hotch and all of the doctors: what happened to me that night wasn’t a common occurrence. I didn’t get panic attacks. I didn’t freak out like that. It was a one time thing, and everyone just needed to get over it. If Hotch were really concerned, he should’ve just told me the truth, and then I wouldn’t’ve been concerned about him, and vice versa. Cause and effect kind of thing.

“Are you over Hotch passing out?” Morgan asked as we sat in the boardroom together to get some privacy. I shook my head. “Why?”

“Because he scared the shit out of me.”

“Hotch feels the same way about your panic attack. I saw him. He pulled all of those I.V.s out of his arms and pushed a nurse to the side just to get back to you. If you expect that he has to be honest with you, then shouldn’t you show him the same courtesy?”

Well… I hadn’t thought of it like that. I really didn’t think that what happened to me was a big deal—but that could have just been denial—and I hadn’t stopped to think that maybe Hotch was worried sick about me. I didn’t want him to hide things from me because of me, though. That wasn’t the point. We made a promise to each other that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other. Him being honest about his health should’ve been the most important thing to us.

Then JJ interrupted to tell us that we had a case. Morgan thanked her while I kept my gaze lowered. We hadn’t talked since New York, and I felt like I had reason to continue staying distant from her for a while. I couldn’t bear that Morgan disapproved of me and Hotch because it sounded like he was more concerned for me than just trying to say: “Are you sure?” a thousand times. Once he knew that I was really sure about marrying Hotch, Morgan gave in because he only wanted what was best for me. JJ, on the other hand… Well, she hadn’t even tried to apologize. According to her behavior, she seemed adamant on maintaining her position. She didn’t think that Hotch and I were a good fit. And that broke my heart into a million pieces, because, of course I wanted her to support us, but I wasn’t going to tolerate that she was disapproving just for the sake of it. Her reasons didn’t hold. She wasn’t sure if I was ready to be a mother to Jack, or willing to spend time with Haley, or ready to actually be a wife. But what she failed to recognize was that I was ready for all of that. I was ready, and I tried to tell her, yet she didn’t seem to believe me. I couldn’t forgive that.

“I’ll call Hotch,” she said quietly.

“He’s at the doctors,” I told her, though I was still looking at the ground.

“I know. I’ll tell him to meet us at the jet.” She stepped into the room and started laying out the case files for everyone.

The rest of the team started filing in moments later. I turned in my seat to face forward, ignoring everyone’s glares, and opened the case file. JJ started running through it, but I ignored her in order to just educate myself. I think it was obvious to her and everyone else what I was doing, though.

Delilah Grennan was found dead in her home two nights ago. She had been raped repeatedly, bludgeoned to death, then presented post-mortem with her palms laid over her chest innocently— which meant that the Unsub felt remorse for what he had done. What conflicted with the hands of purity and innocence, however, were the stab wounds inflicted post-mortem, also a part of the Unsub’s ritual. That part probably came before the hand placement. The oddest part was actually about the rape that occurred during the initial attack. The local PD tried to run the semen found in her through VICAP in order to get a DNA match—which would have made this an open and shut case—the only problem: it matched that of a known serial killer named Cortland Bryce Ryan, also known as the “Angel Maker”. The issue with that was that he had been in prison since his arrest, and the one year anniversary of his execution was two days ago. The day of the murder.

“Were there any other victims?” Emily asked.

“Kinda,” JJ answered, managing to catch my attention. “Victimology and signature match almost perfectly with an old serial killer who was executed a year ago.” I knew that from the file. “He raped and killed six women in ten months.” She pressed a button on the TV remote, which revealed crime scene photos from the original Angel Maker case ten years ago. “It’s all the exact same. The copycat even opened all of the windows in the house, which was what Cortland did; however, that information was never released to the public.”

“So, then, this is definitely someone who knew Cortland personally,” I said.

JJ eyed me cautiously for a second as if she were asking herself if it were safe to address my comment. But she nodded and continued with, “Yes. Probably.”

“There’s one discrepancy, though,” Reid said after awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. “Cortland used his bare hands to beat his victims, but the M.E. concludes that Delilah was beaten with a hammer or some other heavy instrument.”

“So, this guy is weaker,” Morgan concluded.

Emily raised a brow. “Why wouldn’t his victim fight back, then?”

Silence blanketed the room. We all looked over at Rossi, as the lead profiler in the room, to see if he had anything to add. He shrugged at all of us. It was then decided amongst us that we would discuss it more on the plane where Hotch would be waiting. So I collected my file quickly and went to my desk to grab my go-bag. That was when I felt Emily poke my shoulder. I jumped in my own skin before turning and realizing that it was just her.

“Sorry, Ms. Jumpy,” she laughed. “I just wanted to ask if everything is alright.”

“What?”

“With you and JJ.”

I looked up at the boardroom to see Morgan and JJ talking privately—probably about me. I sighed and zipped up my go-bag again. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I mean, you’re clearly not.”

“You know I love you, Em, right?” I asked her quietly. She nodded. “Then I need you to really not take offense to this: please drop it. It’s none of your business.”

Emily fell silent and took a retreating step backwards. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

“No—” I insisted, grabbing her hand. “I’m sorry. I just…” I sighed again. “It’s really complicated right now. I swear, once things are sorted out a bit more, you’ll be the first person I tell. I swear.” I squeezed her hand and glanced around the bullpen quickly. The only person around was Anderson, but he had headphones in as he was eating his breakfast. I looked at her again. “You’re the only one who never doubts me and Hotch. You know that?”

“Why would I doubt you two?” she chuckled. “Like you said, it’s not my business. But the opinion I’ve naturally made is that you’re really good for him, and he’s really good for you. Who am I to come in here and tell you any different?”

I shrugged and looked up at JJ again. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

When we arrived at the jet, I saw Hotch waiting just outside for us. I smiled lightly at him and walked straight towards him while the rest of the team filed onto the jet. When we were alone, I bounced up on my toes and kissed him. He cupped my cheek briefly as he leaned into our kiss. We both pulled away at the same time. I took his hand in mine while looking at the windows of the jet to make sure none of the team was watching. After my conversations with JJ and Morgan, it was probably no secret that Hotch and I were serious about our relationship, and since New York it was getting increasingly harder to hide the fact that I needed physical reassurance of Hotch’s presence and safety nearly all the time. I didn’t like being reliant and distracted like that, but… I almost lost him… I deserved a pass for a bit until I stopped worrying about him. Our rules about not making our relationship a big deal at work were slowly starting to mean nothing to me. I loved Hotch. I loved him more than anything, which was why I worried so much. Touching him, holding him, and kissing him was the only way I could calm down now. The team would understand that, right? Still, though, Hotch didn’t like it. I had to understand that, kind of. So, I let go of him reluctantly.

“What did the doctor say?”

Hotch shrugged. “I’m the poster child of perfect health.”

I furrowed my brows. I didn’t believe him. There was no way that a week after being in a bombing and going through surgery he was suddenly in perfect shape. I mean, he wasn’t really limping now, and he wasn’t fussing about his ears. Maybe it was actually possible. But still. The scrapes and bruises were still on him, and until those would disappear, I’d be wary. Even though I trusted Hotch, and he promised to never lie to me, I had to keep an eye on him. He said the doctor’s said he was fine… If I was suspicious about that, then that was my choice. But until I knew for sure that something was wrong, I was going to bite my tongue.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Morgan yelled at us as he stuck his head out of the jet. “Cincinnati awaits us!”

Hotch walked away from me before I got a chance to inquire further about what happened with the doctor. He was so reluctant to tell me anything about those visits. At first, I was understanding, but now that I could tell he was being weird about something, I was starting to get annoyed. Whatever was going on, I’d found out eventually. He had to know that. I always found out, and if it turned out that he was lying to me, I’d rain hell down on him—just like I did when he went behind my back to ask for a transfer five months ago. How time flew. Geez.

I sat next to Hotch at the big table. JJ and Reid were across from us—though I refused to look up at JJ even once; and Morgan and Rossi were sitting on the couch to my left. While the engines started whirring for takeoff, I felt Hotch’s ankle caress mine lovingly. He knew that even a year in, I still had trouble with the jet taking off. It didn’t help that Reid would always give those statistics about how takeoff and landing were the most dangerous points of a flight. Hotch knew that Reid’s statistics always ran through my mind when the engines started up. He knew that I hated this part. He knew that it made me tense up. He also knew that I was getting better at hiding it because I felt like the others wouldn’t understand my continuous anxiety about something like this. Since Hotch and I weren’t sitting in the back on our own, he couldn’t grab my hand to comfort me. So he used his ankle. And I silently thanked him for it by nudging him back.

As the plane started racing down the runway, the team began discussing some theories about the case. Spencer was going on and on about an “evil and an eviler twin” while everyone stared at him blankly. I chuckled to myself. Spencer glared at me lightly and questioned what I thought about all of it. So I looked down at the case file to give it one more review before presenting my hypothesis.

I thought there was no way there were twins involved in all of this. I mean, the DNA would’ve matched, sure, but… come on, that was out there. This copycat we were dealing with used a hammer to bludgeon his victims before performing the same ritual the Angel Maker did. This was all a very convincing ruse to make people think that the Angel Maker was back, but he had been dead for a year. Someone managed to somehow get a test tube sized amount of Cortland Ryan’s semen, and they were using it to “prove” the hypothesis, but we could see through it. Well, all of us except for Reid, apparently. The question about all of this really should have been “why” instead of “how”. Cortland raped and inseminated his victims, and the police thought that the ritual of stabbing his victims’ stomachs was a figurative way of killing the future child that could have been born from that act. However, in prison, Cortland denied this theory, but he refused to say what the truth was. So why? Why did Cortland do it, and why was this Unsub doing it?

Hotch groaned quietly next to me as the plane climbed towards altitude. I stopped talking halfway through my explanation to look at him. He was holding his head in his hands, his eyes shut, his entire body tense.

“Baby,” I whispered, taking his hand under the table.

“Yeah?” he whispered back. He was much quieter than I was, and he still wasn’t looking at me— or really even focused on me at all. It seemed like he only responded just to get me to lay off compared to actually listening to what I had to say.

I squeezed his hand. “The doctor did clear you to fly, right?”

“Mhm.”

“So, then, what’s wrong?”

Hotch bit his lip and threw his head back against the seat. His eyes were screwed shut and his face was contorting into an unattractive look in response to whatever pain he was feeling. “It’s just a headache,” he insisted. “I’m fine.” He tore his hand away from me and looked at the team. They all seemed just as concerned as I was, but he ignored their worry by redirecting their attention back to the case.

Everyone kept watching Hotch closely as he gave out our assignments. Morgan and I were to head to the prison to take a look at Cortland’s personal effects and to talk with the guards there about who Cortland was close to, and who could have possibly helped him get his semen out of the prison. Reid was going to head to the crime scene with Hotch, Rossi and Emily were going to check out the body at the morgue, and JJ was going to start meeting with the local PD about the case.

Hotch hadn’t yet decided to bench JJ since finding out that she was pregnant, but he was adamant about keeping her out of harm’s way. So, she was left to work at the police stations and the hotels. That was it. Honestly, she seemed fine with it. I knew that if I were in her position, and Hotch were benching me like that, I would have been pissed. It had only been a week since we found out, she wasn’t even showing, and yet Hotch was already making sure that she was safe. I mean, I understood the thought process. I knew that he didn’t want her to get hurt, because he was responsible for making sure she was safe and healthy. But still. I would’ve hated the idea of being cooped up in a police station all day. At least she got that much, though. Once she would start to show, I had no doubts that Hotch would pull her out of the field—that was if she weren’t going to make that decision herself. JJ spent a lot of her time in the office and in the precincts, anyhow. She probably didn’t want to put herself in danger while pregnant, and that was understandable.

As Morgan and I pulled up to the prison, I took in every detail of it. Compared to all of the other prisons I had seen inside and out, this place was much nicer. In fact, it had a Victorian era feel to it. The high, castle-like walls were a light tan color, and the material looked like limestone, if I were to make a guess. There weren’t even electric fences surrounding the outside of the prison because that was how high and rough the walls were. There was no way in hell anyone was climbing those—and even if they tried, a guard would probably shoot them off before they could get very far because on every corner and in the middle of each wall were guard towers. Those weren’t modern either. Honestly, if we weren’t in Cincinnati, I would’ve thought we were touristing at a castle in Europe.

The front gate was as expected. The check points were modern, but they were built into the old walls for support. If someone wanted to drive straight through, I wished them luck, because there was no way in hell that any of this was budging even the slightest bit.

Morgan parked the car in the tiny parking lot in the courtyard where prisoner transport buses were kept. We got out, both of us putting our sunglasses on, then headed inside. They required that we put our weapons away in locked cubbies before even entering the security area where they made us walk through two metal detectors, and they still had to pat us down, anyhow. It was exhausting. All of that just to see if there was something of interest in Cortland’s belongings before he died. Honestly, there could’ve been nothing. It was entirely possible that Cortland had nothing in his belongings that pointed to who could have possibly started killing again on his behalf. My hope, however, was that there would be something in the visitor’s logs. Maybe someone who visited often, or someone with a personal connection. Any lead was a good lead.

When we got through security, there was a man waiting for us just ahead. His legs were spread at shoulder width, his hands on his hip, his moustache tickling his lip to the point that he kept scrunching his face to try to stop it.

“Welcome to Hawksville,” the guard said, reaching out to shake Morgan’s hand before mine. “My name’s Sid.” He stood tall and pointed to his name tag. “Sid Rutledge.”

Morgan and I smiled at him politely. I introduced us, then got straight to the point. “We’d like to see Cortland Ryan’s personal belongings, if you don’t mind.”

Rutledge laughed at my bluntness. “Sure thing, little lady.”

When he turned his back, I looked at Morgan and rolled my eyes. We started following him through the corridors of the prison. We were still in the front section of the place, which was where all of the offices and break rooms were. The inmates were kept further into the prison, out of our way. He led us to a room filled with boxes and boxes of past and current inmates’ things. It seemed odd that these things would just be sitting around, collecting dust. It made me feel uneasy for some reason.

“Ryan didn’t have any next of kin,” Rutledge began, “so after the execution, all of his belongings were boxed and stored.” He set two file boxes on the table in front of me and Morgan.

I raised a brow. “This is all of it? All ten years, this is everything? I thought he was popular here.”

“He was; but a lot of the inmates get creative with getting letters in and out of the prison because the Warden keeps an eye on all official correspondence.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” I whispered to Morgan.

“Not in prison, it isn’t, sweetheart,” Rutledge answered.

Morgan opened up one of the boxes and started sifting through all of the letters Cortland got while he was in prison. Most of them were letters from women around his age—crazy fans who were trying to earn his favor. I couldn’t begin to imagine why. I mean, seriously. Why the hell would anyone think: “Ooh, serial killer in prison! He’s hot!” Like… What? But to each their own, I supposed, right.

“Did Cortland have any male fans?” Morgan inquired.

“I suppose there were some, sure. They were all total freaks. This one kid—maybe eighteen or nineteen—would visit every six months or so. He was a musician or some shit like that because he always liked to brag about that damn song he wrote for Ryan.”

“Did you ever catch Ryan trying to smuggle things out of the prison? Maybe to this kid or something?”

Rutledge chuckled. “Usually, they’re trying to sneak stuff in, not out.”

“May I see Cortland’s visitor logs from the past ten years?” I asked. “We need to check every single person who ever came to visit him.”

He chuckled again. “Over the past ten years? That’ll be a lotta names. It’ll take ya forever.”

I smiled sourly. “I’ll figure something out.”

Rutledge shrugged before gesturing for me to follow him out of the room. We ventured down another few doors before taking a left into another room identical to the one Morgan was in. Rutledge ran his fingers over a few of the file cabinets, mumbling under his breath as he counted or something, and then he came to an abrupt halt. He chuckled in eureka before pulling one of the drawers open. I watched as he started collecting about two to three different files for me. When he had everything he thought I would need, he threw them on the table between us.

“There ya go.”

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing a seat at the table.

“If ya don’ mind, I’ll be headin’ back to the other room to make sure Mr. Shiny Head doesn’ steal anything.”

I held back a chuckle. Mr. Shiny Head. Oh, I was going to be using that, and I wasn’t going to let it go, no matter how much shit Morgan would give me for it.

When Rutledge left, I dug into all of the logs. I started at the very beginning, just skimming for names that stuck out or repeated. I took my time, trying to remember any name that I had spotted in the case file, anyone who wasn’t from the state, anyone who didn’t have any kind of relation with Cortland or the Ryan family, and so on. There was ten years’ worth of visitor information in those files, and I had to go through all of it. My hope, however, was that I would spot something out of the ordinary fairly fast so that I didn’t have to waste all day doing this. Maybe Reid should’ve come to the prison to do this. He would’ve read all of these logs in, like, five minutes—if that. Asshole. He was a good friend and a good profiler, but still… Asshole. I wished that I could read half as fast as he could.

And then something caught my eye. Shara Carlino. I had hardly made it through the first year within the logs, and her name showed up every single day. Every. Single. Day. She waited every day before the prison would open just to be the first one to get in so that she would have the longest amount of guaranteed time with Cortland during visitor hours.

As the door opened, I looked up from the records to see who was entering. Morgan was holding the door behind him to make sure it closed quietly, then he smiled lightly at me. I smiled back before looking back down. For a moment, nothing was said between us as he sat beside me. When the silence became awkward, I finally asked him what he found.

“Reid just called,” he gave a half-assed explanation. I raised a brow. “Someone sent the local newspaper a letter claiming to be the Angel Maker.” I chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed with a short laugh. “He’s authenticating it right now. Hotch wants us to keep working this angle in the meantime. Have you found anything in here?”

I nodded and turned some of the records to face him. “One woman, Shara Carlino, she came to see Cortland nearly every day.” I pointed to some of the examples within the visitor’s log that mentioned Shara’s name over and over again.

Morgan grabbed his phone and told me that he would call Garcia for some more information on Shara. “Hey, baby girl,” Morgan said into the phone while grinning ear to ear, “I need you to get me a home or work address for Shara Carlino.” He waited for a moment. Garcia was probably talking his ear off as she searched for Shara’s information. Then, Morgan’s smile faded. “You’re kidding.” Silence. “Nah. Thanks, precious. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and looked at me. “She works across the street.”

My jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. She downgraded from being a famous realtor in L.A to a shitty sales job—”

“And something tells me that downgrade has to do with the prison and Cortland.” I stood, quickly gathering up all of the records and throwing them back in the box. “Let’s go.” I stepped around him to lead the way out of the prison.

Once we had collected our guns from the front and made it back to the car, Morgan and I headed to visit Shara Carlino at her place of work. It was a short drive, of course. In about two minutes—if that—we were pulling into the parking lot just outside of her “shitty sales job”, as Morgan put it. We walked straight in and met with a secretary at the front desk. We flashed our badges and asked him where Shara Carlino’s office was, and he led us there. He knocked on the door and told Shara that the FBI had come to see her. I heard her as she sighed before telling us to enter.

“Thank you for seeing us, Ms. Carlino.”

“Well…” She shrugged. She offered us seats in front of her. “How may I help you, Agents?”

“According to the records we looked at, it seemed like you were Angel Maker’s number one fan,” Morgan stated flatly.

Shara chuckled. “No. His name was Cortland, and I wasn’t a fan.”

“Really?” I cocked a brow. “Then what were you?”

“We were lovers.”

“Last time I checked, death row doesn’t allow conjugal visits.”

“We weren’t physical lovers, Agent Greenaway. It was a spiritual connection. Everything was understood with just one look or one word. There were no secrets between us. It was absolutely blissful. He made me feel alive in a way that no free man ever could.”

Morgan and I both gave each other a glance that sarcastically said: “Okay… then…” I didn’t really understand the appeal of prisoners, especially misogynist serial killers. But he was gone now, and he never hurt anyone else. So… no harm, no foul, I supposed. To each their own.

“Where were you on the sixteenth of this month?” I asked.

“I was away on a business trip with the company. Why?”

“We’re just covering all of our bases, ma’am.”

“You think I had something to do with this?”

“No, but we do think that someone who was very close with Cortland had something to do with this.”

“Well, you can ask anyone here, they’ll confirm my alibi, anyhow.”

“We’ll do that,” Morgan said.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” she slowly started getting sour, “if I’m not under arrest, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Well, we couldn’t argue with that. We weren’t going to arrest her or take her in because we really had no reason to, but we were at least going to check on her alibi first. Maybe then we’d find a reason to continue questioning her. Until then, we had to leave. So, Morgan and I thanked her for meeting with us before we saw ourselves out so that we could go talk to her colleagues.

After we confirmed Shara’s rock solid alibi, Morgan and I headed back out to the car. As we got settled, Morgan didn’t turn on the car. When I asked him what was wrong, Morgan sighed and thought for a second longer before telling me that something was wrong about Cortland’s personal belongings. There was a list in the box that listed everything that was collected from his cell the day he was executed. Like, every single thing—even the weird stuff. But Morgan noticed that a few things were missing, like some paper cranes Cortland made. Originally he thought that it was just that someone accidentally threw them away or something, but he had been churning all of it around in his head, and now he was wondering if someone was selling Cortland’s stuff online, which was how the Unsub got some of Cortland’s semen. It made sense, I guess. Someone smuggled the stuff out in order to make some money off of the Angel Maker.

So we called Garcia with our theory and asked her to look into it for us. She said that she’d use her technological magic to start looking, and she’d get back to us as soon as she could confirm or deny our theory. Until then, Hotch wanted us back at the office. Great. Calling us back when we could just go look for another lead at the prison was a sign that either the team found something really good or really bad… And considering the last thing we heard from them was about the letter they got from the Unsub, I was going to go out on a limb and say it was bad news.

Our stop at the precinct was brief, though. From the moment we got out of the car to meeting with the team inside to leaving again, it was probably all about five minutes or so. It was already getting late, another day come and gone without any viable leads, and there was only one thing the Sheriff could think to do. Since the local newspaper received that letter from the Unsub claiming to be the Angel Maker himself, the town was spiraling into a panic. People wanted to know if Cortland Ryan was really dead. The Sheriff was under pressure to give proof, and we were all trying to tell him that wasn’t the right play. It didn’t seem to matter, though. The Sheriff made the call to dig up the body, and Hotch ordered that Emily and I would go with him to see, while the rest of the team would head to the hotel for the night.

It was absolutely preposterous that anyone could think that Cortland was still alive. I mean, there were witnesses at his execution, and there were professionals that confirmed that he was gone, people were there to see him be buried. To theorize that he was still alive and back to terrorize the town was just… It was out there. But we were only on this case because the Sheriff invited us in. We could consult that he shouldn’t dig up Cortland, but it was ultimately his decision, and there seemed to be no way to convince him not to do it.

When we arrived at the cemetery, there was already a crew there, digging up the body. There were yellow work lights on stands surrounding Cortland Ryan’s grave, about three workers already moving about, and one small excavator machine just waiting for the go ahead from the Sheriff to pull the casket out. Hotch kept trying to convince him that this was all a bad idea. To be fair, it was a shit idea. By digging up Cortland’s body, we were playing right into the Unsub’s hand, which would just encourage him to kill more on Cortland’s behalf. I mean, there was no way in hell that they body wasn’t there, so, realistically, this would help get the public off our backs— which was the Sheriff’s point in the first place—but if there was any chance there was something wrong with the body in that casket, things were going to get much worse for us.

The Sheriff told off Hotch one last time before gesturing to the man in the excavator. We all fell silent in order to watch. The machine started moving up, pulling at the chain attached to it. As the chain went taught, a loud creaking sound screeched around us. The casket budged in the grave slightly. They gave it another tug with the machine, and it gave another screen, which was finally when it started moving out of the grave. As the casket was lifted, it scraped against the metal walls, and the machine itself was rusty and old, so it also gave off a high pitched, shrill cry that made my ears hurt. As I cringed, I clocked Hotch out of the corner of my eye as he pressed his palms to his ears and stumbled back.

I furrowed my brows and followed him. “Aaron—” He kept walking away from me. “Aaron, stop!” I skipped a few steps to catch up to him. “Aaron.” I cupped my hands on his elbows and crouched slightly so that my face was in his field of view. He was staring at the ground while stretching his jaw to (probably) make the ringing in his ears stop. It was like New York all over again. “Aaron, what is it?”

“It’s just my headache,” he insisted quietly.

I looked over at Emily, Rossi, and the Sheriff. They were all watching us, even though they should’ve been paying attention to the casket that was finally being carefully set down on the grass. I let go of him and stood up straight. The three of them looked away from us long enough for me to sneak my hands up to Hotch’s face. I made him stare right into my eyes. Neither of us said anything as I tried to get a read on him from his dry lips, his racing eyes, his shortness of breath, and his weak limbs. He was lying to me. He wasn’t as healthy and perfect as he had been claiming. And this certainly wasn’t a fucking headache. I needed him to tell me the truth, but before I could pry for answers, I heard Rossi, Emily, and the Sheriff all gasp and curse under their breaths.

I let go of Hotch again before we both hurried over. We leaned forward slightly to look into the casket, and what I saw made my stomach churn. Cortland wasn’t there. There wasn’t a single body—or, hell, even a hint that a body had been in there in the first place. I sighed. What the fuck were we supposed to do now? The locals were going to have a million and one questions, the Sheriff was probably going to crack under all of this pressure, the news was going to have a field day, and the Unsub was going to be so happy we played his game that he was going to start killing more just to keep up the ruse of “Cortland Ryan, the Angel Maker, back from the grave to kill everyone!”, and a lot more women were going to die because of it.

Hotch didn’t sleep that night. I tried staying up as late as I could with him while working the case, but at some point, the caffeine stopped working, and my eyelids got too heavy to keep fighting. My exhaustion reached the extent that Hotch had to grab my pajamas from my go-back and help me into them because if it were up to me, I would’ve just gone to sleep in my work clothes. Hotch wouldn’t let me do that, though. So, he helped me get ready, and he tucked me into bed, kissed me goodnight, then turned off all the lights except for the small lamp on the desk so that he could keep working.

I felt somewhat sorry, to be fair. This case wasn’t just for Hotch to work on his own. He had been proving that something was off, and I should’ve stayed up all night with him, no matter how tired I got. But I just couldn’t. Besides, Hotch would have rathered that I were in tip-top shape for a long day’s work, than stay up all night running into the same walls we had been facing with the case all day. Sleep was good. Sleep was healthy. That was why I wished Hotch would’ve joined me, but since finding out that Cortland’s body wasn’t where it was supposed to be, I understood that he wouldn’t rest until this case was through. Fair enough.

In the morning, he woke me up and gave me a cup of coffee to get my day started. I sat up and kissed him. He pressed into our kiss lightly for a moment before handing me the cup and escaping into the bathroom. As the water started running, I heard him tell me that he wanted me and Morgan to keep up with the potential lead of finding whoever was selling Cortland’s things on the internet for profit. When I argued that we wouldn’t be able to do anything until Garcia reached out to us, he said that we should just focus on the profile until then.

I snickered to myself. “Ha. Easier said than done,” I whispered under my breath as I brought the rim of the paper coffee cup to my lips.

Then, when Hotch got out of the shower, I pushed into the bathroom to get ready. He snuck up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed my neck again and again until it started tickling and I laughed while brushing my teeth. Hotch finally gave up with one last passionate kiss. I watched him walk into the bedroom, pulling off his towel so that he could get dressed.

“Don’t be shy, turn around,” I snickered before spitting the toothpaste into the sink.

Hotch glanced over his shoulder at me. “You wish.”

“Mhm.”

And then my phone started ringing. Hotch let the band of his boxers snap slightly against his hips before reaching over to grab it for me. He brought it to the bathroom. “It’s Garcia.”

“Ask and you shall receive!” I cheered to the universe before kissing his cheek as we exchanged the phone and I pushed past him. “Garcia, give me some good news, please.”

Garcia chuckled over the phone. “Well, sunshine, I’ve got your lead… Is that good news?” I hummed a “yes” while picking up a pen off the desk so that I could scribble down notes. “I tracked down who has been selling Cortland’s stuff on the internet. Drum roll, please! A man by the name of Sid Rutledge.”

I chortled. “You’re kidding.”

“What? You know him or something?”

“Yeah. He’s the guard at Hawksville Prison that was helping me and Morgan.”

“Well, it turns out that he’s not exactly that helpful to the justice system. He didn’t show up for work today.”

“Do you have a home address?”

“Ready when you are.”

I started writing down the address as Garcia gave it to me. Hotch was now dressed and ready for the day by the time I hung up with Garcia and tore the page out of the notebook. Hotch grabbed the page from me so that I could get dressed. I explained everything to him while getting dressed. I told him who Rutledge was, how he always creeped me out, that he seemed more concerned about keeping an eye on Morgan (a black man) over me (a doe eyed white woman). He was the poster child for racist, sexist asshole. I supposed that it made sense that he was helping Cortland this whole time.

When I was ready, I took the paper back from Hotch. We approached the door to the hotel room together, taking a moment to stand close to each other and stare for a moment because our time together was never guaranteed. Since New York, we had been trying to make the best of every second we had. We always knew that our jobs were dangerous, and there was always a chance that we could lose each other in the field, but those near-death experiences made it more real, and it was terrifying. So I craned my neck up at Hotch while taking in every detail of his face. From his black hair that hung in his face as he looked down at me, to the mole on his cheek, his thin pressed lips, his smile lines, his thick brows, his sharp jawline, everything. He was so perfect. He was so handsome, so gorgeous, so sexy, so lovable. And he was all mine. I would never forget that. He was mine and I was his, and I was just waiting for him to finally make it official.

“I’ll get Morgan,” I whispered, afraid to raise my voice, thinking that it would spook him off somehow. “We’ll go check out Rutledge’s place.”

Hotch reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Be safe for me.”

I nuzzled against his touch. “I’ll try.”

He leaned down to kiss me passionately. The second his lips were on mine, I felt myself melt. If it weren’t for his hand cupping my cheek, I thought that I might have actually collapsed right then and there because of how light and loving the kiss was. He wasn’t being rough, dominant, and possessive with me. He was kissing me in a way that said: “Come back to me for more.” And I just knew that I had to get back to him.

Hotch blindly reached for the doorknob while we were still kissing deeply. He was practically towering over me, and I had to grab onto his jacket to maintain my balance. But the second the door was open, we tore away from each other. I fixed his jacket before stepping around him. In the hallway, he went to the right to head towards the elevators, meanwhile I headed to the left to knock on Morgan’s door.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” I teased while knocking an annoying number of times.

Morgan opened the door to make me stop. “Jesus, what do you want?” He was dressed and ready, but he still seemed cranky.

“Late night?”

“I was working until about four. You?”

“Two.”

“I hate you.” He stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. “What is it?”

“Garcia got our lead on the internet seller. Sid Rutledge—the guard from yesterday— he’s the one who’s been selling everything. Here’s the address,” I said while handing the paper to him. He took it from me. We both started walking towards the elevator as he took note of the address. “You want the honors of arresting him?”

Morgan smirked at me as we stepped into the elevator. “I’d love nothing more.”

Nearly twenty minutes later, as we were pulling up to Sid Rutledge’s house, I grabbed two FBI vests from the back of the car. Morgan put the car in park, and I handed him one. Rutledge seemed like a pussy, if I were being honest, but we were going up to a prison guard, and we were going to attempt to arrest him. He wouldn’t exactly be too happy with us. Wearing vests was just a precaution, and since Morgan scared the shit out of me in New York, he had to wear the damn vest whenever I made him.

During our approach up to the house, I had to be sure to step around all of the dog shit on the sidewalk. Sid must’ve had a huge dog that he didn’t clean up after. Then, I let Morgan take the lead with knocking since I promised that he could be the one to arrest Rutledge. Since meeting him at the prison yesterday, Rutledge’s appearance just kept getting worse. I mean, he started out looking like a shmuck. But then it turned out that he was racist, sexist, and who knew what else; and now we were arresting him for smuggling shit out of prison, selling it on the internet, then having the audacity to lie to Federal Agents during a Federal Investigation. I wondered which judge on planet Earth would be lenient with him.

“Woah—” I stopped Morgan from moving by grabbing onto the back of his shirt once I noticed that the door was open. “Two deadbolts and neither of them are locked.”

For a guy like Rutledge who worked in a prison long enough to see all the different kinds of evil that existed out in the world, there was no way he left his door unlocked. If I worked in a prison, I wouldn’t leave my door open, either. If there were ever any prisoner who didn’t see eye to eye with me then got released… yeah… So, of course Rutledge would lock both of those deadbolts. The fact that they weren’t locked was a fair reason to worry.

Morgan nodded knowingly. We both pulled out our weapons, and then I followed his lead into the house. “Sid? It’s the FBI… From yesterday… Sid, we’re coming in.”

Morgan gestured towards the kitchen, so I started making my way there. Morgan kept moving slowly towards the bedroom. The living room we were in was entirely clear, so I stepped into the kitchen, but it was also empty. Well, not empty. It was the dirtiest kitchen I had ever seen, but, then again, Rutledge didn’t seem like a put together kind of person.

“Y/N,” Morgan called calmly from the bedroom. “We’ve got a problem.”

I sighed and holstered my weapon. I knew what that meant. Rutledge was our only remaining lead thus far, and if he were really dead, as I expected him to be based on Morgan’s tone, then we were utterly fucked. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that—

Shit.

Rutledge was lying dead on his messy twin sized bed. The sheets looked like they hadn’t been washed in… Well… Frankly, forever. Just like the kitchen, it was so messy in the bedroom that we could hardly walk around. Rutledge was a huge hoarder, so there were boxes, food containers, candy wrappers, and used condoms everywhere. I honestly had no fucking clue who would sleep with him, especially in a place like this. But who was I to judge. What was truly eye catching, however, was the overkill stab wounds on Rutledge’s chest and crotch. It certainly was the same M.O. of the copycat—bar the fact that this was not a female victim. The stabbing, the open windows, everything… But his arms weren’t crossed over his chest to symbolize innocence or regret. The overkill of the stabbing, and the fact that his arms weren’t crossed, all indicated to me that this wasn’t about the Angel Maker. I was sure that the copycat did this, but not for the same reason he had been killing the other victims. Rutledge probably sold the semen—and maybe other things—to the Unsub. He probably knew who we were looking for, therefore he had to die in order to keep him quiet.

“This is complete overkill,” Morgan stated the obvious.

“And it’s personal,” I added. “This isn’t about completing the Angel Maker’s vision, it’s about revenge.”

I walked into the bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet. There was Motrin, TUMS, Advil, medication for his hyperthyroid, but that was about it. Nothing too special. What was on the counter, however, was an entirely different story. My jaw dropped as I picked up the orange pill bottle. That was new and interesting.

“Oh, yeah, definitely personal.” I brought the bottle back to the bedroom and held it out for Morgan. “Viagra.”

If this was personal—which it certainly fucking was—then the Viagra just smacked us across the face to tell us that we got our whole profile wrong thus far. This whole time, we had been focused on looking for a male Unsub who was obsessed with the Angel Maker’s work; but we never stopped to think that this was a female obsessed with the Angel Maker. Our profile was off before… But now we had a better idea of who we were dealing with. The Viagra indicated that the Unsub was obviously sleeping with Rutledge, yet the stab to the groin told us that it wasn’t exactly a… consensual experience. I mean, it could have been, but not in the traditional sense. Obviously, our Unsub wanted Cortland, whom she couldn’t have, and if she was the one getting the semen out of the prison through Rutledge, it was possible that having sex with him was payment for keeping their secret quiet.

“I’ll call Hotch,” Morgan said.

“Tell him to give the profile without us.”

“You sure?”

I nodded and turned back into the bathroom to keep digging. “We still need to find everything he was selling.”

Besides, we knew the profile now, and that was all that mattered. We didn’t need to waste our time by leaving the crime scene to go help present the profile to the local P.D., then head back out into the field to do more work. Our time was better spent where we were. That being said, I still needed to churn the profile over in my mind a few times.

Now that we knew that our Unsub was a woman, a few things changed. Our age profile, for example, narrowed down because the only kind of person who would do all of this for Cortland was someone who was madly in love with him. Someone like Shara Carlino. If she didn’t have the most bulletproof alibi I’d ever seen, she would’ve been my first visit after leaving Rutledge’s house. So, if she were in love with him, she had to be around his age—30 or so. The fact that she was female also explained why the bludgeoning of these victims was so different from Cortland’s original M.O. But she was still strong, which told us she wasn’t any younger than 25, and she definitely wasn’t older than 45. Since Cortland was 36, nearly the perfect median, it made sense that our Unsub would be around the same age, too.

Just as I deduced earlier, she likely killed Rutledge because he knew who she was. But what changed now that we had the Viagra bottle was one simple thing: sex. Rutledge was an asshole, obviously. He was an asshole who probably didn’t do things for free. Smuggling and selling Cortland’s things benefitted him financially, but selling the semen to our female Unsub gave him leverage. The Viagra bottle, the way he was half naked on his bed, and the stabbings to his groin, they all pointed to the fact that Rutledge was forcing her to sleep with him in return for the semen and his silence. But now that we were approaching her endgame, he became useless to her. So, she got her revenge. She loved Cortland, she wanted to give her body over to him entirely, not to Rutledge. Sleeping with him probably felt like a betrayal to Cortland. By killing Rutledge, she was apologizing to Cortland… In some fucked up way. But this was all fucked up, so.

All of her behaviors pointed to her being a groupie. For context, groupies were a thousand times worse than your average fan. She was on a mission. Her whole life was now about completing the Angel Maker’s work because it was the only thing that could bring him back to life in her mind. She was in love with him. That was worse than being a groupie. Love could make anyone do anything. I mean, look at how I practically ran into a bomb zone just to be by Hotch’s side after the explosion in New York. For me, love would make me climb mountains for Hotch. I’d die for Hotch. Our Unsub felt the same way about Cortland; though we differed because she was willing to kill innocent people for Cortland.

“She left something by accident,” Morgan said from the bedroom. I left the bathroom since there was nothing else notable, and I joined him in the bedroom. He was standing up straight after grabbing something off the floor. “A turkey baster.”

“Jesus…” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“I’ll bet you anything that’s not leftover gravy in there.”

Morgan shivered and set it down on the bed. Well, at least we knew how she was simulating the sex now. The fact that she accidentally left it here was concerning, though. She probably wouldn’t have wasted Cortland’s semen on Rutledge since she viewed it as the most important part of him and her M.O. But she had brought it with her, and it must’ve fallen out of her rape kit. If she brought it with her, that meant she was on her way to—

And then Morgan’s phone started ringing.

“It’s another victim,” I said as he reached to answer it.

Morgan furrowed his brows at me in confusion, then answered. “Yeah, Hotch?” Silence blanketed the room as he waited while listening. “Y/N and I will meet you there. Send CSU here to Rutledge’s place.” Silence again. “Alright. Thanks, Hotch.” He hung up and put his phone away. “You scare me sometimes, Greenaway,” he teased me as we started heading back out to the car.

“You scare me all the time, Morgan.”

“That’s hot.” He laughed and skipped to his car door before I could slug his shoulder with a rough punch.

“You wish.”

“Hey, a man can dream, right?”

“Disgusting.” I pulled my vest off and got in the car. I finally got to punch Morgan once he was sitting down next to me, busy with turning on the car so that we could meet Hotch at the crime scene. “Idiot.” I didn’t even hit him that hard, yet he was pretending like I just smacked him with an iron shovel.

“I’m telling Hotch when we get there.”

“Tattle tale.”

He laughed to himself, then started driving.

When we arrived at the crime scene, we could see Hotch and Emily standing outside of the house with the Sheriff. The police department was surrounding the property with their cars, trying to keep curious neighbors out. Morgan and I made it in without hassle. When we met up with Hotch and Emily, the Sheriff started reviewing the case with us while walking up towards the house.

“Maxinne Chandler. 28. Lower Cannan native. Single, living alone—”

“How many kids did she have?” Hotch asked after stepping over another kid’s toy in the yard.

“None of her own,” the Sheriff answered. “She ran a daycare out of her. One of her clients, a father, was dropping off his son when they found the body.”

Emily and Hotch continued inside with the Sheriff, but I tugged on Morgan’s sleeve to hold him back. “Morgan, wait… Delilah Grennin and Maxinne Chandler worked from home. They had open door businesses. A jewelry maker and a daycare center. That can’t be coincidence.”

We had been waiting for a second, real victim to connect the dots in victimology, and there it was. Our Unsub was going after easy targets. Delilah and Maxinne both had their doors open for strangers, and Rutledge opened his door for her because he was hoping to get some action. It made sense. Cortland went after women that sexually attracted him—hence the rape—but this Unsub’s purpose was to serve Cortland, not gain sexual gratification. Because she didn’t get anything out of forcefully entering the home and pinning the women down, she had to be smarter about it. She would probably come in during the day when the businesses were open, ask to use the bathroom, leave a window open, then sneak in late at night when it was time to strike.

“Let’s tell Hotch,” Morgan offered.

The body was in the bedroom, still on the bed, left untouched in its posed position. Her arms were over her chest, her eyes were closed, there were stab wounds in her stomach, and Emily was talking to the M.E. about the traces of semen found. Hotch was staring at the stab wounds, his arms crossed over his chest. Morgan and I had clearly entered at a bad time, so we waited back for them to finish discussing the scene.

When the M.E. left, Emily and Hotch started hypothesizing together. We still stayed silent. They were working as a team on this, and Morgan and I were anxious to tell them what we had put together as our own little team. One thing at a time.

“Nine puncture marks this time,” Emily said. “It doesn’t look chaotic or disorganized, though.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Can I see your pen?” she asked him while pulling out a small notebook. Hotch agreed and handed it to her. We all stayed quiet as she scribbled something down that was slowly occurring to her. “She did this on purpose… I knew that they felt familiar, but I wasn’t sure how… But look at this—” She turned her notebook around. She had drawn the dots the same exact way the Unsub did, and suddenly all of the pieces were falling into place.

“The Big Dipper?” I questioned.

“No,” she shook her head, “The Dolphin from the Heavenly Waters family.”

Hotch took his pen back. “Tell Reid to go back and reexamine each of the bodies to see if the same connection can be made.” Emily nodded and stepped out to call him. He turned to me and Morgan, “What did you guys discuss outside?”

“We think we found the connection between the victims,” Morgan began.

“They both ran in-home businesses with an open-door policy,” I finished.

Hotch considered for a moment. “It makes sense, I suppose. The Unsub can get in and out during business hours, then comes back later with a ruse or something. She’s small, as we know, and she looks welcoming enough that she’d be invited into the victims’ homes.” He was saying what we already knew, but he was working through it himself, so I didn’t stop him. “Reid’s been working on deciphering some of the letters the prison sent to us from Cortland’s correspondence. Maybe he can use the information of the ruse to narrow down who we’re looking for.”

“I’ll tell Emily so she can let him know,” I offered, stepping out to meet up with her.

When we got back to the precinct, everyone gathered in the boardroom to start brainstorming. Originally, Rossi would’ve called this our “group think session”, but Hotch had yelled at him a couple of cases ago about calling it that, so it had since ceased. However, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Hotch was all about politics, so he had to maintain face about what our team really did on cases—and the Bureau hated group thinking. Calling it “group thinking” around Hotch was worse than saying that profiling was just guess work. But, realistically, we did group think while we were profiling.

When I first joined the team, Gideon told me that every member of the team offered something new and different. According to him, no one was dead weight. I had always tried to keep that in mind while profiling like this as a group, but it seemed like we had suddenly run into a wall. Without the letters that Reid was working on, there was nothing more we could do, much to his chagrin. I didn’t like taking credit for profiles, because that wasn’t the point, but while skimming the notes of what we had, I couldn’t help but chuckle at how most of this came together because of me and Morgan. Telling Hotch that was also a death wish— even for me. We were a team. No one person was responsible for a profile. But, damn…

“I cracked it!” Reid cheered, running over with a stack of papers. “I deciphered the letters.” He handed them to JJ. “She wasn’t just a fan—They were in love.” I could’ve told him that. “Look—” He gestured to JJ to hand the letters out.

JJ handed Cortland’s letters to Hotch, then she hesitantly handed me the stack from the Unsub. We didn’t look at each other as I took them from her. She walked away from me silently and sat down at the opposite side of the room, putting her hand over her stomach.

I started reading the first one on my stack. “’My dearest Cortland, thank you for writing back to me. The day the verdict was read, we shared a silent moment. I knew then that there was a force willing us together. Every time I see you, I feel warmed as if by the sun; and, yet, I fear that if I come too close, I’ll be consumed by your fire. I long to see you again. Love, your dove.’”

Hotch went next. “’My dove, ever since your visit, I am crazed with thoughts of you. Already you’ve entered my dreams. Each time you appear to me, I’m embraced by a feeling of trust and belief as if I’ve known you all my life. Dreams are not enough, however. I yearn to see your face once more. Come visit me. Yours, Cortland.’”

“’My dearest Cortland, as always, I’m touched by your words, and I do long to see you again, but they won’t let me. We’re not supposed to have any connection since the trial. It breaks my heart to think that I may never get to lay eyes on you ever again… Continue writing me, my love, for it’s the only thing that brings me comfort throughout my days now since discovering that I will bring a part of you back into this world. I love you. Your dove.’”

“My secret wife, all appeals have failed. All hope is lost. The guards are celebrating my defeat by clearing out my cell, destroying what memories I have of you. My execution has been set for tomorrow. By the time you read this, I will be gone, and all of you will have of me is what you will bring back. I will be watching you from the stars. I will love you from above until one day we are reunited. I love you.’”

“What do you think she meant by that last line?” Emily questioned.

“The murders?” Morgan hypothesized. “By pretending to be the Angel Maker, she’s revived his memory and the terror in this city.” I chuckled to myself. “What?” he asked, turning to me.

“Boys,” I whispered under my breath. When I realized that all eyes were on me as the team was waiting for an answer, my smile faded. I tapped the paper and said, “She was pregnant.”

Emily looked impressed. “Well, if she really did have his kid, we might be able to track her through birth records. Maybe—”

“Agent Hotchner,” the Sheriff interrupted, storming into the boardroom. “We just got a report that a woman was attacked in her house by a female assailant. The victim’s alright… I can’t say the same for the attacker.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“The victim was walking home from work when she was attacked,” the Sheriff answered. “She screamed out for help, and the whole neighborhood ran out to help her.”

“This isn’t our Unsub’s M.O.” I spun in my chair to face Hotch. “It isn’t late at night, she was attacked out in the open—the ritual couldn’t be completed there.”

“Maybe she was rushing to get to the last victim because she knows we’re after here,” Emily offered up.

The Sheriff shrugged. “You can ask her yourself when you get to the crime scene, if you’d like.”

“Y/N, Emily, take this one,” Hotch ordered, nodding out towards the front door.

We nodded, too, and headed out.

Emily jumped into the driver’s seat in one of the SUV’s outside, and I got into the passenger’s seat beside her. We started following the Sheriff to the scene. Allowing him to navigate was faster than following a map and getting lost on our way there. This way, we’d get to the scene as fast as possible—hopefully before the paramedics could take the victim to the hospital. From the description the Sheriff gave, it sounded like the victim wasn’t as hurt as the attacker was, but the paramedics probably still felt like it was best to take her back to the hospital to make sure she was alright. I didn’t blame them. Even if she wasn’t physically injured by the attacker, the shock could do more harm than good.

“So, are you ever going to tell me why you and JJ are on bad terms?” Emily finally asked me while still staring at the road. I sighed. “I know, I know, it’s none of my business. But I love you and JJ equally, and I want to make sure that you’re both alright. But if you tell me again to drop it, I will. I’ll respect that choice. I promise, Y/N.”

I knew she would drop it if I told her to. I knew that her promises meant the world to her, and that she understood a thing or two about keeping secrets. I mean, really, what did I know about Emily? Of course, we were close, and she was a dear friend of mine and Hotch, but she kept a lot of secrets from all of us. She kept a thousand things bottled up, and none of us ever pried. There were rules in our team. We didn’t profile each other, and we didn’t pry when it came to secrets. Hotch and I were different because we had a rule that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other just to save our own, personal relationship. But I wasn’t required to tell Emily anything, the same way she was never required to tell me anything.

The worst part, however, was that I wanted her to know. I wanted her to know the truth the same way I had eagerly anticipated JJ and then Morgan the truth. But I’d been burned one too many times. It didn’t matter that Morgan had since come around, or that he was trying to get me and JJ to apologize to each other… What they initially said to my face hurt me. I confided in the two people I thought would understand most, and they both let me down. I wanted JJ to know that Hotch and I were going to get engaged, and that we decided that we wanted to have kids. I wanted her to be the first person to know because she was the only other person on the team who could have possibly understood. But she took my heart from my chest, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. She practically told me that Hotch and I weren’t good for each other—that I shouldn’t take things with him too seriously. But what about her and Will, huh? Why did they get to know each other for just a few months, then have a baby, and everyone’s fine with it; but Hotch and I date for a year and have a conversation about marriage and kids, and suddenly I’m the bad guy.

I wanted to tell Emily the truth. In a way, I needed to tell her, just to see if her response would be any different than what Morgan and JJ’s were. Emily told me before we flew to Cincinnati that she supported me and Hotch, and that she felt she had no right to judge us. Plenty of people at the office didn’t support our relationship. There was the issue of the age gap, the fact that he had gone through a messy divorce with a kid in the mix, and, oh, yeah, he was my boss. It didn’t matter that the FBI had no rules against our relationship; people still looked down on it anyhow. I wasn’t going to convince people’s minds, but my family—the people I spent every day with at the office and entrusted with my life in the field—should’ve at least given me the courtesy of feigning excitement on my behalf. Morgan was my best friend. Even if he didn’t think mine and Hotch’s relationship would be perfect, he should’ve supported me and my elation. Hotch didn’t hit me, mistreat me, or not love me. Hotch was good to me, and Morgan knew it. If there was any sign that Hotch and I were toxic, then, yeah, Morgan would’ve earned the right to warn me away from marrying Hotch. But this was real life. This was our reality, and the truth was that Hotch was good to me and loved me more than anything. Therefore, Morgan should’ve been on my side from the get-go.

Emily… She… I didn’t know enough about her personal life to make a call on where she would stand on all of this. Would she react like Morgan and JJ? Would she still be adamant that it wasn’t her place to give an opinion? Or would she be excited for me? I wasn’t sure. I hoped that she would be thrilled for me and Hotch, but how could I know for sure? Well… there was really only one way to know. I had to tell her.

“Before the explosion in New York,” I began, “Hotch and I talked about getting married and having kids.” Emily didn’t say or do anything. “We decided that we’re ready.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. A slight upward curl of her lip slowly became more prominent until she was smiling wide with her teeth showing. My heart jumped in my chest. That was so different to how things went with JJ and Morgan. Neither of them smiled when I told them. But Emily did. She was smiling until she was laughing gleefully, and then she removed one of her hands from the steering wheel so that she could hold my hand.

“That’s so great, Y/N!” she cheered.

I squeezed her hand, a smile slowly forming on my face now, too. “You think so?”

“Of course, I think so!” She waved my hand around. “Hello! You two love each other! You two have always been a perfect, happy couple. I was always wondering when the hell he’d get around to finally asking you to marry him. Honestly, when I joined the team and found out that the two of you had only been dating for six months, I was shocked. I thought he would’ve married you the day he met you.”

My smile widened. “Thank you, Emily,” I said in all sincerity, trying to suppress the giddy shake in my leg.

“For what?” she furrowed her brow slightly while smiling at me.

“For believing in us.”

“Is that what this is all about? You and JJ?”

I nodded.

“Oh, Y/N,” she tsked her tongue. “What happened?”

“She and Morgan doubted us. They didn’t think that Hotch and I should get married. They think that we’re rushing things.”

“Screw them.”

I chuckled. “What?”

“Screw them!” she said with more passion. “We love them, they love us—but screw them and what they think about you and Hotch. They don’t know your relationship. No one does but you and Hotch. If the two of you think you’re finally ready, then I say go for it. It’s your choice, not theirs. Once they see how happy you two are while married—even though they should already see it now, the same way I do—then they’ll understand that you made the right choice. You and Hotch are adults. Make your choice to be happy, and prove them wrong.”

We were suddenly approaching the crime scene, so Emily released my hand. She set the car in park. The scene was still busy with the paramedics looking at the victim in the back of their ambulance, and the police were trying to keep all of the neighbors back. Because of what the Sheriff told us about how they practically ganged up on the attacker, I was surprised that they hadn’t broken through the barricade yet. The attacker was sitting in the deputy’s car across the street, but from where we were, I couldn’t see who it was. I truly believed that this wasn’t the work of our Unsub. The Sheriff and the team could be suspicious all they wanted, but I had an inkling. Our Unsub wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t risk finishing Cortland’s legacy like this. The last kill would probably be the most important one to her. She would be careful and take her time with the last victim. This… this was all so messy.

Then I saw who was sitting in the car with their hands cuffed behind their back.

“Em,” I said suddenly, stopping in my tracks. She stopped with me once she caught on. “That’s Shara Carlino.” Emily looked confused. “The woman who thought that she was Cortland’s only ‘lover’.”

Emily’s eyebrows raised in shock. “You’re kidding.”

“She’s Cortland’s number one fan. Her alibi is solid. She’s not our Unsub. We’re just wasting our time here.”

“Maybe…” She trailed off as she started walking towards the car. “Ms. Carlino,” she said after opening the door, “I’m Agent Prentiss with the FBI. I work with Agent Greenaway. You spoke with them yesterday.” Shara looked over Emily’s shoulder to glance at me. “Why… Why did you do this? We know that you’re not the woman we’re looking for, so why?”

“I just wanted us to be together again…” she cried. Her face was all bruised and bleeding from the mob that jumped on her after she tried killing the victim. Yet she didn’t seem to care. She was crying because she failed to do what our Unsub was doing. She couldn’t connect with Cortland in the same way, and she was furious because of it.

Emily slowly closed the door on Shara and turned to me. “Well…” Well, I was right. We had wasted our time—actually, Shara had wasted our time. “That was certainly—”

My phone started ringing, cutting Emily short. My eyes apologized to her for the interruption as I answered. “Morgan…” I growled.

“Sunshine, you’re gonna love me right now,” Morgan cheered on the other end. I rolled my eyes. I was in a bad mood still because of Shara, and not even Morgan’s snippiness could change that, unfortunately. “I’ve got you the name and address of our Unsub.” Okay, the cheered me up a bit. “Chloe Kelcher. She was on the jury during Cortland’s case, and she started visiting him once every six months while in prison so that no one would piece together that they were close.”

“She’s his dove?”

“Yeah. Birth records show that she had a baby about three months ago that died after being born.”

“That’s definitely a trigger.”

“Uh huh. We’re all heading there right now. Looks like we’re closer, but Hotch wants you and Prentiss to meet us there.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

When I hung up, I told Emily everything. She told the Sheriff, and we gave him the address so that we could race there. We turned the lights and sirens on as we left the crime scene. Emily stretched between the front seats we were in so that she could grab two vests for us to wear. Knowing that we were heading to the Unsub’s house, it was best to play it safe. Besides, if I even decided to show up without one, I was sure that Hotch would strap one onto me forcefully anyhow. And while that was normally an appealing idea, I wasn’t in the mood. I hadn’t forgotten about last night. I hadn’t forgotten about the plane ride. I hadn’t forgotten my worry over the fact that I knew that something was wrong, and he was refusing to fess up. That was when I realized that if I showed up and Hotch wasn’t wearing a vest, I was going to strap one onto him. Funny how those things worked.

At Chloe Kelcher’s house, the team was gearing up at the cars they brought. Hotch was putting on a vest… Thankfully. Then, when Emily and I got out of the car, he spotted me while making sure his gun was loaded. We exchanged a brief glance as I moved my hair out of my face so that it wouldn’t distract me inside. He was watching me closely. That morning, in the hotel room, he begged me to be safe for him. Since New York, I understood why he was being a little more protective than usual, but this was different. The look in his eyes was different. He was practically begging me to stay in the car, which was preposterous. I would do nothing of the sort. I was a part of this team; I was on this case—it was my job to go in there and search the house with them. If he wasn’t going to sit in the car, then neither was I.

So, when everyone was ready to head in, we carefully approached. We were going to do a hard entry—which meant that Morgan was going to kick down the door, then we were all going to disperse into different rooms in order to clear the house. The hope was that we were going to catch Chloe off guard so that we could grab her before she would have a chance to run. With a hard entry, however, there was no time for planning. We didn’t have a chance to stop and account for how many rooms there were to clear ahead of time. But we were used to this. The first ones in the door made their way to the back of the house, while the people in the back cleared the front rooms like the kitchen and the living room. I happened to be towards the back with Emily, so we headed straight for the kitchen. We separated around the table in the middle of the room. She ventured to the left, and I went to check the pantry on the right.

“Clear!” Rossi called out.

“Clear!” Morgan responded.

“Clear!” I added.

“Clear!” Hotch finished up.

I sighed and lowered my weapon to my side. Emily and I moved back into the living room where Rossi, Morgan, and Hotch had also gathered.

“Okay, spread out,” Hotch ordered. “We need to find out what her end game is and where she is before it’s too late.”

I immediately turned towards the hallway where the bedrooms were, and made my way to the last one on the right because Hotch was taking the one on the left. When I stepped in, I stumbled slightly. I hadn’t anticipated what I saw. I thought that it would be just another bedroom, or maybe a home office, or even a goddamn shrine praising Cortland… but this… this caught me off guard. I was standing in a nursery. Like, a baby’s nursery. We knew that she had a baby that she lost, but I… It had been months. I… I wasn’t sure why I was so shocked to find that the nursery was still there and put together.

The walls were painted a light baby blue for a boy, and the ceiling was a dark navy blue to imitate the night sky. The one thing that didn’t surprise me was the glow in the dark stars stickers shaped into The Dove constellation. Expected. She wanted her baby to be raised with a constant reminder that his father was watching over him. That part made sense, I supposed. But what sent a shiver down my spine was the empty cradle with a red dinosaur toy eerily similar to the one Jack and I loved to play with, and the pajama onesie that was laid out next to it. It was like she was still expecting her baby to show up again…

“You okay?” Hotch asked from the door.

Frightened by the sudden intrusion, I jumped in my own skin. When I realized that it was just him, I caught my breath and nodded. He started walking in to take a look around with me. “Note the view,” I snipped, pointing to the ceiling. Hotch glanced quickly. “This is probably the cleanest room in the whole place. Her grief sent her into a spiral of deep depression to the point that she couldn’t keep anything together besides the one thing she had left: hope and love.”

“Do you blame her?” Hotch asked me.

I shook my head. “No.” If I ever lost Hotch, Jack, or a bab— Well… Or anyone else… I wouldn’t know what to do with myself either.

“Did you look in here?”

I turned to see that he was pointing at a wooden chest in the corner of the room. It looked identical to the one we had in our office at home. But I hadn’t really noticed it when I entered the nursery. Even if I had, I figured it was probably just filled with baby toys or diapers or something.

Hotch flipped the top of the chest open. Both of us leaned in with our weapons raised, ready to shoot something. I wasn’t sure what we were expecting to shoot in a goddamn wooden chest, but better safe than sorry, especially with this Unsub. But what we found only confused us. Hotch and I lowered and holstered our weapons.

“That…” I sucked in a deep breath. “That explains a lot.”

There was a corpse trapped in there, covered by a loose plastic bag in an poor attempt to preserve it. After finding out that Cortland’s body wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and now finding this corpse in our Unsub’s house— specifically her baby’s nursery, I supposed I shouldn’t have been shocked, honestly. If I were to guess, she somehow got ahold of Cortland’s body just after he was executed. I only assumed that because it didn’t seem like the grave was bothered before we dug him up last night.

“Wonderful,” Rossi said sarcastically as he came into the room. “I assume that’s who I think it is.” Hotch and I both nodded. “Listen, I think I might’ve found something here. It’s a weekly planner,” he explained while handing it to Hotch, “and it has Delilah Grennan and Maxinne Chandler’s names in it on the day of their respective murders.”

“What about today?” I inquired.

He nodded. Faye Landreaux. 162 North Red River Drive. She’s an accountant… Works at home…”

“That’s it,” Hotch agreed, jumping on his toes. The three of us ran out of the nursey. “Let’s move!” he shouted throughout the house. Emily, Reid, and Morgan, and the Sheriff immediately hurried outside to the cars.

Emily and Morgan were with me, Rossi and Reid were with Hotch. Morgan drove, following Hotch and the Sheriff to Faye's house about ten minutes away. It was conveniently nice that it was close… but it was also worrisome because that meant we were at least two steps behind our Unsub, meaning it could’ve been too late already.

When we arrived at Faye’s house, we spotted an extra car in the driveway—and, of course, the license plate was “ANGLMAKR”. How did no one fucking notice that before? How did we not catch that in some kind of records or something? Jesus. Morgan noticed, too, so he ran up to go see if there was anyone or anything inside of it. Meanwhile, the rest of us grouped up to start considering how we should handle this.

“Hotch,” Morgan called in a whisper while jogging over to meet us, “the car’s still warm.”

“And the windows are still closed,” I said, pointing up at the house. “She hasn’t killed her yet.”

If she had, then she would’ve made sure to open the windows to make sure that the soul could leave the house. If anything, she was probably… Well… Worst case scenario was that she was already setting out her rape kit. But we couldn’t know for sure. And if we tried anything, there was a possibility that Chloe would kill her before we could even get into the house.

“Find a way in,” Hotch told Morgan.

“Right,” Morgan agreed before racing off to search the perimeter of the house.

Hotch turned to Emily. “You’re gonna take point talking to Chloe.”

“But the profile says you’re not going to be able to talk her down. She has to complete Cortland’s work,” I argued.

“I know, but it’ll occupy her long enough to give Morgan a chance to get in and rescue Faye from inside the house. We just need to buy some time.” He turned to the Sheriff. “I’m gonna need all of your vehicles to quietly pull up to the front of the house, facing forward. On my mark, they’re all going to turn their lights on at the same time. I’m also going to need a megaphone.”

The Sheriff nodded and hurried off to do everything he was told. The rest of us started getting in position on the driveway. Because it was so dark and the streetlights on the road had been blown out, we didn’t need cover as we waited for the Sheriff’s department to pull up all of their cars. I was standing between Hotch and Emily, Reid and Rossi on her other side. When the P.D. was ready, Hotch held up his hand, waiting to give the signal. On the count of three, he dropped his hand. All of the cars suddenly turned on their high beams, lighting up the entire house, definitely alerting Chloe to our presence. Well. Hopefully we didn’t just get Faye and Morgan killed.

“Chloe, this is the FBI,” Emily said into the megaphone. “We know you’re in there.” She looked at me and Hotch. We both shrugged. She could do this if she just had a little more faith in herself. We knew that this wasn’t going to stop Chloe, but it was just going to buy Morgan time, like Hotch said. If Emily just kept talking for a bit longer, we’d be golden. “I know that you think that finishing what Cortland started will somehow bring you closer to him. We both know that’s not true. You’ve been lied to, Chloe. Cortland wasn’t who you really thought he was. I think it’s time you know the truth.” Spencer started scribbling a script for Emily onto a notepad. She nodded an acknowledgement to him before continuing. “Those letters that you think were so special between you and him? Well, he sent them to dozens of other women, too. ‘Without the flesh, there is only the soul.’ Does that sound familiar, Chloe? ‘You don’t need to touch me to feel the love I have for you.’ He said the same exact things to other girls like you, Chloe. He was a liar. He didn’t really love you. He was a narcissist. He couldn’t love you.”

A scream from inside the house shook the whole neighborhood. Panic ran through me as I didn’t see Morgan yet, but there was also no sound of gunfire or a struggle—which was good. I just had to know that he was safe. Since New York, I didn’t need to keep worrying about him. He scared the shit out of me with that ambulance stunt. This wasn’t easing my conscience at all. Asshole. Where was he? Why wasn’t he out yet?

And then Emily tapped my arm. I glanced at her quickly to realize that she was staring at the yard to the right of the building. I followed her gaze to see that Morgan was helping Faye along as she limped beside him. He was okay. He looked fine. No cuts, no bruises, no scrapes, no bullet wounds, no blood, nothing. He was safe.

Suddenly, the front door of the house opened. We all watched for movement for a minute before Chloe took a slow step out. She was wearing all black—two sweatshirts and snow pants, all for the sake of making her build look bigger, like a man. In her hand, she was carrying a small revolver.

“Chloe,” Hotch began as we all pulled our weapons, “drop the gun.”

She continued moving towards us, so I put my finger on the trigger. Hotch repeated his order. Chloe looked up at all of us, yet she didn’t stop or listen to Hotch’s order. He tried ordering her again. She hadn’t raised her weapon at us yet, she hadn’t made any sudden movements to give us cause to fire, and she was still far enough that she could surrender. So Hotch tried one last time before I whispered to him that I was waiting for the order. He didn’t seem to hear me, though.

Chloe looked up at the sky and whispered, “I’m coming to you, my love.” And then she started raising her weapon.

The Sheriff got the first shot in before the rest of the team could squeeze their triggers. As I fired, I saw out of the corner of my eye how Hotch stumbled back. I stopped firing so that I could look at him. He was wandering around aimlessly as the team continued to shoot at Chloe to make sure she was down. My eyes softened in concern. Hotch was still stumbling, even when the gunfire ended, and he ran into a car while holding his head between his palms. He was trying to guard his ears from the loud sounds. I spotted the similarities in relation to how he looked in New York. The way he was holding his head, the way he was stumbling around like he didn’t know where he was, and the way he could hardly stand up straight unless he was leaning against that car… My heart started pounding in my chest.

I looked at the team, who was also eyeing Hotch with concern. “Go!” I yelled, shooing them towards Chloe. They took the command without argument. While they moved to see if Chloe was really dead, I hurried over to Hotch to make sure that he was alright. Suddenly, he collapsed onto his knees. Thankfully, I managed to catch him by grabbing onto his elbows, and I held him up against the side of the car.

Hotch was blinking like crazy, looking at nothing specific as he glanced around at everything but me. I grabbed his face to let him know I was there, and he tried to squint and focus on me. “Baby,” I said to him breathlessly. “Baby, what is it?” He still didn’t respond. “Hotch!” I yelled, shaking him.

“I can’t hear anything,” he tried to explain calmly, but his tone was in a panic. He groaned as he hid his face in his hands. “Fuck… I can’t hear anything…” I brushed my fingers through his hair to let him know that I was there with him. “Y/N.” He braced his hands on my shoulders as his sight started to come back.

“I’m right here.” I smiled to make him feel better. “I’m right here.”

His hands squeezed my shoulders, and he stood up tall. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath. He stretched his jaw and his face to help clear his ears. “I’m okay,” he reassured me. I shook my head at him. He clearly wasn’t okay. “I promise.” He pushed past me to meet up with the team again.

I stayed where I was. My jaw was hanging, practically on the floor, and my eyes didn’t even blink. How did this happen? Why? He said he was alright, yet for the past two days, he had proven time and again that something wasn’t right. Ever since getting on the airplane at Quantico, I knew that something was wrong. This… The way he seemed just as dazed and confused as he did the night of the bombing in New York… He had been lying to me this whole time.

I didn’t sleep that night. Hotch fell asleep fairly quickly after kissing me goodnight and rolling over to face the wall. But I stayed curled up on my side, watching his back. I was worried about him, and I knew that worry wouldn’t allow me to sleep, and it really didn’t. Even when I tried to close my eyes, I would just be tortured by the memories of New York. I saw flashes of the street camera recordings of the bombings, of getting that first call from Garcia when she told us something bad happened, of holding Kate’s back together with my hands, or seeing Hotch collapse in the middle of the hospital, of seeing him as he broke down when he found out Kate didn’t make it out of surgery. It was all killing me.

Then I would think about how Hotch couldn’t seem to hear anything when they were pulling the coffin out of the ground, and when I fired my weapon at Chloe—That was my fault. How did I not realize that I did that? He didn’t have a problem with it until I fired my gun because I was standing right next to him. That one was my fault. I should’ve realized that there was something still going on with his ears, and I should’ve held out. But then she could’ve shot Hotch. He was right in her eyeline, her posture was squared up to shoot him. If she was going to shoot anyone, it was going to be him. I saw her raising her weapon, and I made a choice. I made the right choice. It was him or her, and I didn’t hesitate.

Finally, when morning came around, Hotch woke up to the sound of his alarm. He groaned and grabbed his phone to turn it off. Meanwhile, I closed my eyes, ignoring the flashes of nightmares, and pretended to be asleep. I was so worried about him; I didn’t need him worrying about me and how I didn’t fall asleep. Eventually, he turned over to face me, and I felt him put a gentle hand on my arm to wake me up. I gave it a few seconds of him massaging my arm awake before I opened my eyes. He was smiling at me while I pretended to be slowly waking up. I forced myself to smile back at him.

“Wanna shower before we head to meet up with the team?” he asked me quietly, brushing a strand of my hair out of my face.

I shook my head and closed my eyes again. I was trying to silently play it off like I was just tired, and I wanted to sleep in for another few minutes while he showered. It seemed to work because he kissed my temple and carefully slid out of bed. When he was gone and the bathroom door closed, I sat up and I started to think while he showered.

About fifteen minutes later, Hotch stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips, another one hanging from his neck as he used one corner to clear the water out from his left ear. I shifted on the bed while thinking about what was underneath that towel and how good he looked while his chest was still dripping beads of water. I had to shake off the thought, knowing that wasn’t what I wanted to do or talk about. I needed to focus on having a real conversation with him that had been weighing on my mind since New York.

He smiled at me. “I wish you would have joined me.”

But I didn’t smile back like I should have. “We need to talk about something.”

His smile disappeared and his forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows raised in worry. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and sat up. Hotch walked over and sat down by my feet. He reached out for me, so I turned onto my knees and crawled over to him. He pulled me onto his lap, his arms wrapped around my torso to hold me close. I tilted my head to the side so that I could press my forehead against his. As his wet chest soaked my pajamas, I thought long and hard about what to say next. There wasn’t enough time to prepare for such a conversation, and I wasn’t even sure if there were words to express exactly how I felt, but I needed to try.

I sighed quietly before taking in a deep breath of bravery. Fuck it. Full send. I just had to be honest. “I need you to be honest with me about what the doctors have been telling you. I didn’t want to pry because I knew that you would tell me when the time was right, but it’s been eating me alive, Aaron. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat because I spend my entire days just worrying about you. Something changed in New York. You didn’t used to keep secrets from me, which is how I know that this is really fucking bad. You would tell me if things are actually okay. So, I need to know the truth before it literally kills me.”

Hotch’s arms tightened around me while he pulled his face away from mine so that he could get a good look at me. I wasn’t smiling, I wasn’t smirking, and I wasn’t having any fun while trying to get answers out of him without having to start an argument. What I needed most was for him to just come out and say the truth, no matter how terrible it could be. Even if he were dying, I wanted to know. Even if he were so healthy that he could do a backflip, I wanted to know. There was something missing from what he had been telling me about his health since New York, and I had enough. He was the love of my life, there was no denying it. There was no one else out there who could love me the way he did, and there was no one out there that I could love with the same intensity that I had for him. But for us to work, he needed to just be honest with me. I could take anything, no matter how horrible. If there was even the slightest chance that I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, I needed to know that I could trust him wholeheartedly and that he shared the same sentiment. If we didn’t trust each other, then what was the point? I wanted him to know everything— hell, he did know everything about me, even the worst of the worst, the lowest of the low. He could show me the same courtesy, couldn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” I inquired with worry, pushing his wet hair out of his face.

“I didn’t want to lie, I swear. I thought that I’d be fine, and I just didn’t want to worry you.” He looked at me while he mimicked my actions by brushing my hair out of my face, too. “I’ve been so worried about you since New York. I don’t want you to have another panic attack because of me.”

“Just tell me the truth.”

His gaze fell from my eyes to my shoulder. “I’m technically not supposed to be in the field… The doctor didn’t clear me to fly, and she doesn’t want me to be around loud noises, like gunshots.”

My eyes softened. Why would he lie about something like that? That was nothing to be ashamed of. This was his fucking health— Did he not realize that a fucking doctor told him to not put a strain on his ears and that they likely told him that for a fucking reason? It wasn’t just a suggestion as he was taking it to be. They knew what they were fucking talking about and he had blatantly—

I took in a deep breath and tried to relax.

“Maybe I should have listened,” he admitted.

Yeah. Maybe he should have. Just a thought… God, I wanted to smack some sense into him so bad. He probably didn’t realize how frustrating it was to hear that he was going out of his way to hurt himself.

“My ears, they keep ringing to the point that I can’t hear or see anything… And when it happens, I go right back to that night and I can just see myself holding onto Kate while screaming for help that just won’t come. I feel so lost and panicked every time—” He looked at me. “But then you’re there, and you’re holding me just like you are now, and I find my balance and I remember where I am. I remember that I love you and that we’re both okay, and that’s enough to help me calm down.”

I took in another relaxing breath, this time because I knew that he was right. I wanted to be mad at him, but he had the right idea about being held and grounded by each other. Knowing that he was safe and alive was the greatest sedative for the mind and heart.

I tried to ask my next question as calmly as possible because he had been honest with me and that was what I wanted. I didn’t want to punish his honesty by yelling at him, but there was so much anger penting up in my chest, and I needed to let him know one way or another that he had made a huge mistake that didn’t just affect him. So I proceeded cautiously with, “How long have we known each other, Aaron?”

“What? I—”

“A year. We’ve known each other for about a year. In all that time, have you ever doubted that I can take care of myself? Even when the worst thing imaginable happens and you get all worried about me, do you doubt that I can handle any situation life throws at me?”

“Never.”

“So then don’t doubt me when I tell you that what happened in New York is nothing to worry about. I’m not lying to you. It’s the truth. Do you really want to know why I panicked like that?” He nodded slightly. “You fell to the floor and I thought you died. I saw you laying there, and I thought that I had lost you for good. I can’t bear to lose you, Aaron. That’s why I had a panic attack. That’s why I couldn’t breathe. But you were fine, just needed a little fixing up and you were good to go. Now you’re telling me that you’re not fine and that you’re putting yourself in danger? Did you ever stop to consider how I might feel about it? Your health isn’t just for you to worry about, Aaron. You have a family. We have a family. What if you were to come home one day and you can’t hear Jack’s laugh anymore, huh? You come home from a case and you can’t hear me tell you how much I love you, or Haley’s trying to tell you something important about Jack that we had to miss while we were gone, and you can’t understand her? You can’t do that, Aaron. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you, to me, to Jack, the team, or even Haley. There are people who need you to be healthy and safe. We’re relying on it. You can’t just make the decision for yourself that you’re going to disobey the doctor’s orders and then have those around you suffer the consequences.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know you are, baby.” I pressed my lips against his forehead, keeping myself there for a minute. He leaned in and pecked a kiss against my neck. “I just want you to be safe and healthy. Is that too much to ask?” He shook his head. “I.” I kissed his forehead. “Love.” I did it again. “You.” He giggled slightly. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

“I love you, too.” He looked up at me. “I.” He kissed my lips. “Love.” He did it again. “You.” Again. “Y/N Greenaway.” I smiled against his lips. “And I really am sorry. I promise, I won’t lie again. I swear it.” We hugged each other tight as he fell back onto the bed. I laughed and tried to roll off of him, but he held me tight. “You’re not going anywhere.”

When we were dressed and ready to leave the hotel, Hotch and I headed down to the lobby where the team was waiting for us. We apologized for being late, which earned a snarky remark from Morgan about how Hotch was getting “some action”, and in return, Hotch told him that he’d get to ride back-middle seat in the car as punishment. Morgan’s face fell. I chuckled as I walked past him to claim the front passenger’s seat in the car that Hotch would be driving.

We drove to the precinct first so that Hotch and JJ could wrap up a few things with the Sheriff, since he apparently wanted to discuss something with them in person before the team would get on the jet. Everyone got out of the car to stretch their legs again because they knew that they had a long flight ahead of them, but I did it because I knew that Hotch and I had an even longer trip. After Hotch admitted that he wasn’t clear to fly, I told him that there was no way in hell I was letting him get on that jet home. He told me that he understood, and we discussed how we were going to road trip home. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what we had to do in order to keep him safe.

Hotch and JJ finished talking with the Sheriff and one of Cortland’s original victim’s mother a few minutes later. She handed him a plate of cookies, which he thanked her for. As they all said goodbye to one another, Hotch and JJ slowly started making their way back to us. I pushed myself upright from leaning on the side of the car. Hotch and I exchanged a quick glance. Recognizing the signal, I opened the trunk and grabbed our go-bags while he handed the plate to Emily. When I had our bags, I closed the trunk, and I handed him his black duffle bag.

“You’re not coming?” Emily questioned, following Hotch around with the plate of cookies.

“No,” Hotch shook his head. “We’ve, uh… we’ve decided that we’re gonna drive back.”

“That��s a seven hour drive!”

Hotch looked over at me. I nodded a reassurance. “I… I really shouldn’t be flying.”

Emily looked over at me, too, now. She put two and two together. Knowing that this was something that we had discussed privately, and it was a decision we made together, she decided not to push. She nodded understandingly, then told us to drive safe. Morgan and I exchanged a glance as he got in the car with the rest of the team. I smiled lightly at him. Rossi was the only one who didn’t get in yet. He waited for them to close their doors before approaching me and Hotch.

“You know, I’ve done that drive before,” he said quietly. “There’s a lot of small towns—even more miles of absolute nothing. It gets kind of dizzying to spend all those hours on the road without stopping. Maybe you two should stretch the trip out for a day or two. Take a few days off to be yourselves again.”

Hotch nodded. “It’s something we’ve considered.” He reached out to shake Rossi’s hand. “Thanks.”

“Stay safe out there,” he said to Hotch, shaking his hand. “Don’t let him drive,” he joked, pointing at me. We both chuckled together, but Hotch only glared playfully at me. “We’ll be fine without you two for a few days, don’t worry.” He turned to get into the car.

When the whole team was settled in the car, Reid started the ignition. Honestly, I didn’t envy them after knowing that Reid was going to be driving them to the airport. I did feel bad, however, for not joining them, and for potentially not being at work over the next few days… but being with Hotch to make sure that he was okay… that meant more to me than anything else. That was what was important. I didn’t want to lose him, and that included losing any part of him, like his hearing. This was the safest thing for him, and I was going to be with him every step of the way, holding his hand as we got through this together.

He was going to hate me over the next few days. If he didn’t know it yet, he was going to learn very quickly that I didn’t appreciate being lied to. When Elle tried lying to me about her pain tolerance after getting shot, I stayed at her house for a bit to baby her, to make sure that she was alright and doing everything the doctor’s told her to do. She grew to dislike me over those two weeks because of that. But she was also the reason I didn’t immediately move in with Hotch, so she kind of had it coming. In Hotch’s case, he lied to me the same way she lied… and, boy, oh, boy, was I going to have a field day with making his life hell to make sure he knew to never lie to me again.

So as the team drove off, I held my hand out in front of me, my palm facing up. Hotch tried lacing his fingers with mine, but I playfully pulled away. “Keys,” I explained.

He furrowed his brows. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m dead serious. Keys, Agent Hotchner.”

He moved his go-bag from his right to left hand so that he could dig into his pockets for the car keys. “I’m perfectly capable of driving, Agent Greenaway.”

“No, you’re not.” I took the keys from him. “I love you.” I pressed a quick kiss against his cheek before hurrying off to the driver’s side of the car we were taking. Hotch watched me for a moment. “You can pick your jaw off the floor now,” I said, biting back a laugh, and opening up my car door.

His eyes brightened and a smile crept onto his face. “You’re something else… You know that, right?” I nodded. I could practically see his heart beating in his chest like we were in a damn cartoon or something. “I—” He was at a loss for words, which only made me smile. “I love you.” There it was. “Even though you’re a pain in my ass sometimes,” he mumbled under his breath as he got in the car.

Touché.

I was going to show him just how much of a pain in the ass I could be. Poor Aaron Hotchner had no idea.

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