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livbedum · 8 days ago

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WHERE’D ALL THE TIME GO?

CHAPTER ONE

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ new summer , new camp , new people. you were beyond ready to take on the next few months , but you had to get through your first day before that comes.

word count 7.7k

warnings profanity , mentions of underage drinking , sexual innuendos , mentions of a cult.

CAMP JESSAMINE was going to be your permanent summer camp , you decided. just the drive to get to the campground was a perfect time. your best friend , taylor , was with you— with some persuasion , and the weather was perfect. the windows to your car were rolled down , stereo to the highest volume as it pumped out the tune of your favorite songs.

you and taylor were the type of people that listened to very specific songs that would only ever make the best coming of age movie soundtrack. it was something very special to the two of you ; romanticizing your lives through music.

as you turned onto the driveway before the parking lot in front of the administration building , two weeks by grizzly bear was playing. taylor reached over , twisting the volume knob to lower it as she took in your surroundings.

“this looks much better than skyline ridge did,” she pointed out , leaning out the open window just a bit.

you laughed at the welcomed diss on your old camp. “i don’t think that’s a tough standard to beat , but i do agree. this is a lot nicer,” you replied , rolling to a stop in the gravel lot. there were several cars already parked— some of the staff showing up to help orientation along.

the radio cut silent as you killed the engine before you reached over and grabbed your tote bag. “we need id’s and..?” taylor trailed off , looking through her own bag.

“just our id,” you reassured her, “lets go check in.”

you both clambered out of your car , not having stood on two feet for several hours. your heart was pounding as you made your way to the front door. it was decorated with a banner above shouting, ‘welcome to camp j!’

with one hand clutching taylor’s , you push the door open and step inside. there’s a line of tables with staff members behind them , helping some new staff members sign in and get instructed on where they’d be bunking for the summer. you were silently praying that taylor and you would be close to each other if not paired up.

“hello! welcome on in , guys!” it was a blonde girl , probably your age , waving you two over. her hair was the perfect amount of curled and flowy for it to look naturally effortless , and her smile was practically blinding you as you walked her way. she looked like the human embodiment of sunshine. “hi , what are your names?”

“y/n,” you answered before clarifying, “y/l/n.”

the blonde didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard in her hands before letting out an excited squeal. “ah! you’re my newbie!”

taylor laughed for a moment before covering her lips with a hand. “and me? taylor mcmahon?”

“ooh , you’re with cleo,” sarah— if she was wearing the proper name badge, answered with a smile, “she’s one of my best friends. our cabins are actually pretty close to each other , too. she’s probably in the dining hall right now getting our dinner set up for tonight , but i’m sure you’ll meet her soon. actually , i’m almost done for my shift of signing people in , so if you wanted i could bring you guys around. introduce you to cleo and kiara. she’s another one of my friends who works here.”

while sarah talked and got papers ready , you could feel a good summer coming in your veins. you and taylor were paired up with two best friends and wouldn’t be staying that far a part , and the girl you were paired with seemed plenty nice.

“i think we’d love that,” you smiled back , picking up a pen and filling out the small sheet handed to you. meanwhile , taylor’s eyes were elsewhere.

“who is that?” without looking up , you know she found a boy to ogle from across the room, “and can he be my newbie?”

sarah chuckled for only a moment before she cut herself off. “oh,” she spoke , eyes landing on katherine’s latest find. “that’s—“ you didn’t really listen to who it was , focusing on your form to get it out of the way as fast as possible.

any allergies? no. any food allergies? no. any health conditions that require medication? no. favorite color? green. favorite drink? probably coffee? you finished filling the blanks before slipping the branded pen into your pocket.

“here you go,” you cleared your throat , handing sarah the slip of paper before picking up your bag from the floor, “anything you need to give me?”

sarah grinned , noticing you wouldn’t be a newbie newbie , just someone who hadn’t been to camp jessamine before. “just your name badge , some t-shirts , the cabin key , itinerary , and list of campers!” it was all handed to you in a packet , badge and lanyard laying on the top of it, “let me grab taylor’s and we’ll head over to the cabins.”

taylor took her own packet and lanyard , slipping the blue loop over her neck with a smile. “you know what , y/n/n? i think you were right : this will be a good summer.” her eyes were still trained on the guy at another set of tables.

looking at him now , you could actually scan over him. camp jessamine t-shirt a half size too small , making his arms budge out of the sleeves just a bit ; buzzed hair ; beyond tall ; perfectly tan skin. “you can have ‘im , babe,” taylor started, “i’ll take his friend.”

your eyes shifted ever slightly to the right , taking in the dark skinned boy that just entered the building , immediately going to his friend and dapping him up. “i don’t date guys from camp , tay. that’s like rule number one.”

“you guys ready?” sarah’s voice cut through your conversation.

“let’s go!” taylor beamed , hooking her arm in yours.

leading you back outside through a different door , sarah began her tour. “so we were just in admin , and that is the gymnasium,” she pointed across the way at another bigger building. it had an outside court as well , giving away its title. “over here is the dining hall , so we’ll stop in for cleo.”

she was smiling the whole time , as if this was some paradise , and you couldn’t help but hope that’ll be you next year. “how long have you been a counselor here?” you wondered , looking all around you all while following sarah through the grass.

“forever,” she simply answered, “i think my first actual memory is from this camp. i went every summer growing up ; a lot of us did. the next move was to obviously start working here,” she continued to explain , slowing her pace just a little for you two to keep up. her eyes noticed how you and taylor were trying to take everything in. “and here we are!”

ever the welcoming committee , sarah opened the door and let you walk through. “sare , who you got with you today?” a boy spoke up , heading your way. she quickly kissed him on the lips before ‘presenting’ you and taylor to the few others in the dining hall.

“y/n , taylor , this is john b , cleo , kiara , and pope,” she introduced everyone , pointing at each of her friends, “guys , this is y/n and taylor. y/n is my bunk buddy , and cleo you get taylor!”

“alright , come here , girl! let me check you out,” cleo hyped taylor up before pulling her in for a hug, “i’m not the newbie anymore , y’all.” the last bit was directed to her friends.

you all laughed at her words , knowing almost all of you had felt that feeling before. “were y’all headed to the cabins?” pope had asked , breaking up the chuckles.

“yeah,” you nodded, “sarah wanted to stop and grab cleo before we settle in.” as you answered , your eyes took in the group , sizing them up in a way to get your read on them.

“yo! new chicks just came in and they are hot! saw ‘em with sarah getting—“ two swing doors opened , a guy walking backward through them with boxes in his arms. when he turned and saw the three extra people in the room , he quickly shut up. “hi there! uh— there’s actually like , i don’t know , four other sarah’s who work here,” he lied , stumbling over his words as everyone laughed.

“right , okay. well , that’s jj,” sarah groaned , clearly unimpressed despite her giggles, “j , this is y/n , my roommate. and this is taylor , cleo’s roommate.”

the blonde swiftly flipped his hat to be facing backwards after putting the boxes down on a table. “nice to meet you , ladies,” he smirked , reaching his hands out crisscrossed for you to both shake. being polite , you both meet his hands , shaking them with smiles.

“nice to meet you , jj,” taylor smiled , catching the fact that he was perfectly your type ; catching that fact that you were blissfully aware that he was perfectly your type.

“hi,” you managed to speak , cheeks flushing bright and ears getting hot, “well , we gotta go— gotta go get , um , unpacked,” you stuttered , pointing to the door and stepping away, “sarah?”

your new friend was grinning ear to ear watching you drown , but she quickly came to your rescue. “see you guys later,” she chuckled , coming and grabbing your shoulders before pulling you away. she led you out the front door and to one of the several golf carts. “so that was something.” sarah couldn’t help herself but laugh a little when you were alone.

“i’m going to kill myself if i talk like that all summer,” you joined in on making fun of yourself, “is everyone that volunteers here that hot?” you questioned , thinking back to the guy you saw signing people in.

“yeah , that’s a perk for sure. something in the water on the cut made those pogues fine,” sarah agreed , turning the golf cart on whenever you threw your bags down in the back.

“okay , first of all : what’s the cut? and secondly , what’s a pogue?” you asked , turning in the seat as sarah took off in the direction of your cabin. neither one of those words seemed too endearing.

sarah looked back at you and took a deep breath. “well , we’re all from this island : kildare. on said island , there’s the nice neighborhood which we call figure eight. then there’s the not so nice neighborhood which we call the cut,” she explained as you listened intently, “all of them are from the cut , sparing kie. she’s a born kook.”

“so if you’re from the cut , you’re a pogue , and if you’re from figure eight , you’re a kook?” you recalled , still not entirely understanding the classist labels.

“it’s dumb , but yeah,” sarah nodded simply.

you took the answer for what it was and focused ahead of you. you could see the cabins now. they were set in five half circles , three cabins in a group. in front of them was a fairly large fire pit with handfuls of chairs littered around the area.

“which one are we in?” you questioned as sarah slowed to a stop.

“we’re in cabin number six! cleo and taylor are going to be in four , and kie is in five,” sarah answered , grabbing one of your bags to help you inside.

“these are nice,” you gaped , stepping into the cabin. there were six bunk beds , three on either side of the building. a bathroom in the back , and another door next to it.

“our room is back here,” sarah announced , moving through the cabin towards the last door, “ta-da!”

you set your bags down at the end of the bed that was still available and looked around. sarah had set up her side of the room already , fairy lights across the ceiling , posters on the wall , and her bed all done up.

“okay , these are really , really nice , dude,” you echoed yourself , amazed at how much more money is clearly put into this camp than your last.

sarah waved you off, “eh , it’s whatever,” she laughed, “just kidding. it’s actually insane how fancy this camp is. even i can admit it.”

“my last camp was an actual dumpster fire compared to this,” you admitted , starting to unravel your bedding to make the room seem homier, “packed cabins , shitty food , bunch of old people for camp counselors. jessamine is an upgrade.” sarah sat down on her bed and listened to you with a smile. she liked you already , that wasn’t hard. “and you all seem actually nice too. that’s another perk on top of how hot you guys are,” you continued with a laugh.

jj. you hated you were still thinking about him. that’s not how you ever want your summers to be. summer flings were not on your list of things to do in your twenties. you wanted to completely focus on yourself and getting to where you wanted to be in life. no blonde surfer boy was going to change that.

“so… you’re still picturing jj in that pretty , little head of yours,” sarah read your mind , holding back a cheesy grin when you turned to her.

“i don’t date boys from summer camp,” you simply said , going back to making your bed. the two of you stayed in silence until you had finished setting up your bed and unpacking. you fell into the mattress with a sigh.

sarah’s position on her bed matched yours , completely sprawled out and exhausted. “i feel like this is the first time i’ve gotten to just chill in like a week,” she huffed , staring up at the ceiling.

“yeah , me too,” you agreed, “me and taylor were on a road trip just before we came here , so i’ve been cramped in my jeep for way too long.”

“wait— how old are you?” sarah questioned , sitting up on her elbows to look over at you.

“nineteen. almost twenty,” you answered , copying her actions, “you?”

“twenty…” she replied with a smile, “which means i’m no longer the baby of the group , so thank you for that.”

“it’s okay. i’m used to it,” you mused, “youngest daughter of six. taylor is older than me , and most of the friends i’ve ever made have been too. nothing new to me.”

it was true ; you were quite used to being the ‘baby’ of whatever group you were around. you grew up that way. as much as you hated it , you did get away with a lot more. such as doing what you’re currently doing. your dad was pissed when he got the email you sent him one morning. it was the day you officially packed all of your things and left home. he had decided you were to be a doctor— what kind? he didn’t care , but a doctor nonetheless. you , however , wanted to travel and experience everything you possibly could while snapping pictures and showing the rest of the world. not exactly an easy thing to come to a compromise on.

that was two years ago.

“well , i hated it. the guys would make fun of me all of the time,” sarah laughed now , it not being as sore of a spot for her, “but that makes taylor… twenty?”

“—one,” you finished for her, “she’s like my best friend and big sister all in one.”

“don’t you already have five of those?” sarah recalled , furrowing her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

you looked away for a moment , fairy lights catching your eyes again. “technically , but i don’t really think blood is what makes family,” you shrugged , pushing yourself to sit up entirely, “show me around some more?” it was an obvious attempt at changing the subject , but it worked.

“wanna see the ponies?”

AFTER ABOUT two hours of sarah showing you around the camp grounds , you found yourself back in your cabin. it was nearly three , so you still had some to yourself before the counselors’ meeting started up before dinner.

you hadn’t seen taylor since you split up at the dining hall , so you were by yourself since sarah had to help with some administrative duties. with your free time , you made the decision to start setting out the things you brought for the girls you’d be mentoring for the summer.

daisy.

amber.

noah.

celeste.

miranda.

kylie.

the first thing on the list was making the covers for their journals. you had pressed three-d stickers on the front , spelling out all of their names. you set the books down on the dressers , pairing each with a disposable camera and pack of pens.

in the bathroom , you had set up a box of essentials. twelve teenage girls in one cabin? it was needed. you hung up a cuter shower curtain , laid down a better floor mat. you were happy with the way everything looked so far , so you moved back into the living area. you set out the mini projector you brought , coloring books and markers , card and board games , bracelet making kits. you were just making the cabin more lived in with plenty of things to do.

you had your headphones in , listening to your own music while you got everything set up. lost in your own world.

“excuse me!”

you jumped , hand clutching your chest as someone pulled one of your headphones from your ear. “holy shit! wow! sorry,” you breathed out , turning to face the person who disrupted your jam session.

“no , i’m sorry,” he replied with a chuckle, “i’m looking for sarah. last i heard she was here , but i guess not.”

“oh , yeah. she went to admin,” you answered , pulling the other headphone out and draping the wire across your shoulders, “i can tell her you stopped by…”

“rafe,” he finished for you , reaching a hand out, “i’m sarah’s brother. cabin seven.”

you nodded with a smile , reaching your hand out for him to shake. he took your hand in his , engulfing it entirely. “y/n. sarah’s roommate. cabin six,” you replied, “just do you know.”

“won’t forget it,” rafe assured you , taking a look around the room, “i like what you’ve done to the place,” he added as he inspected the hanging plant you had hung up.

“i think it’s good for campers to live in a cozy place while they’re away from home,” you explained it , hands coming behind your back as you rocked back and forth on your feet, “i don’t know— it might be dumb.”

“nah,” he immediately dismissed you. he shook his head and looked at you again with a soft smile, “s’cute. see ya around , freshie.”

your eyes trailed after him as he left the cabin , most likely in search of his sister. “see ya , vet!” you called after him , smile still gracing your lips, “jesus , something is in the water around that island.” somehow , rafe looked even better up close than he did when you first got a glimpse of him earlier.

“so you met rafe?”

another voice pulled you out of your thoughts this time. taylor. “thank god,” you sighed , moving to the bedroom and flopping on your now made bed. taylor laughed to herself , following in suit and cuddling up next to you. your arm draped over her stomach , holding your friend close.

“what’s going on , bug?” she asked , dragging a loose lock of hair out of your face, “talk to mama.”

“i think i miss my sisters?” you hummed , staring off at the wall lazily, “which is ridiculous. most days , i would rather go back to cult skyline , but i don’t know. sarah and i somehow brought that up for a moment , and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“okay…” taylor nodded, “do you want my advise or or me to just listen?” god , she knew you so well.

you just sighed deeply , letting all of the air in your lungs leave your body. “i just wanna sit here for a second. take a minute before the kids get her in two days,” you shrugged.

the two of you laid in bed for a while— you weren’t sure how much time had passed until your phone started going off to let you know it was nearing five. you groaned , reaching over a sleeping taylor and grabbing your phone to shut your alarm off.

“tay , time for the meeting,” you spoke , nudging her awake. she groaned , stretching out her body as she came to. “let’s go meet everyone else.”

“yeah , yeah. i’m coming,” she promised , pushing herself up as you did the same.

despite taking the golf cart to the cabin , the walk back over to admin wasn’t all that bad. cleo had met up with you , formally introducing herself to you. it wasn’t long before you were sat around another fire pit the camp had with the rest of the camp leaders.

“all right , everyone! how we doin’?” the woman still standing clapped her hands together , and you recognized her as marsha , the person you were communicating with before you got to jessamine. everyone applauded , hooting and hollering in excitement. “okay , okay. so to start summer off , i just wanna go over a few rules. i know— i know , boring rules. boo. however , once i get them out of the way , all of the fun begins so…”

“she’s just like meagan,” taylor leaned over and whispered to you , referring back to one of the administrators from camp skyline.

you chuckled under your breath before facing back to marsha as she continued. “… no letting kids have sex , no letting kids do drugs or drink alcohol , no letting kids sneak out around camp by themselves in the middle of the night , and finally : absolutely no fraternization between counselors!” she made it a point to shout the last rule louder than the others, “cameron , maybank , i’m looking right at ya both , okay?”

the boys smirked to themselves , a few other guys patting their backs. you were sat somewhere in between them , getting a chance to look at both. jj was laughing with john b , smacking each other back in forth in argument as to who was the bigger camp slut. they agreed on the blonde.

and rafe , he was with his friends you hadn’t met yet. they were dapping him up , congratulating him on his many conquests over the years.

“now that we’ve all agreed on not fornicating on property , let the games begin!” marsha smiled, “you all know how this works. for you newcomers , you’ll pick up just fine. get with your cabin mate and check your emails. scavenger hunt begins… now!”

everyone shot out of their chairs , finding their partners if they weren’t already sat with them to start the game. when you got to sarah , who was only a few chairs away , she already had her phone pulled out with the email pulled up.

“okay , so this is what we do every year on the first night of camp,” she started , handing you her phone to look at the list, “winner gets to have their cabin get their meals before everyone else does for the first two weeks. it actually gets pretty intense.”

you laughed , handing the phone back to its rightful owner and smiling. “let’s win then.”

“alright! i like you a lot , miss y/n/n,” sarah replied , bumping your shoulder with hers. she started walking , so you kept up with her. taking advantage of the golf carts , sarah plucked the keys out of the cup holder and started one up. “we gotta start at the end. marsha thinks we don’t know , but she puts the list in order of location. the further down the list , the further it is from home base.”

“sounds like we’re going to come out on top then,” you commented, “drive faster.”

“back to the ponies we go,” sarah nodded , pushing her foot down on the gas pedal.

you sped off , passing several counselors that were on foot , including rafe. he was with the boy from check in that taylor was checking out and another blonde.

“sare , you know that shit’s practically cheating,” rafe yelled at his sister , causing her to slow down to a complete stop.

“really?” sarah feigned innocence. her big , brown eyes practically sparkled as she looked at rafe.

you leaned forward to look past sarah and at the guys standing next to your cart. “i don’t think marsha ever said that it’s not allowed,” you chimed in , pretending to think back in time, “so we’re gonna go win real quick , and we’ll see ya when we’re passing you in line for dinner.”

it was almost despicable how sweet your smile was compared to your competitive words. rafe eyed you up and down , not bothering to hide his gaze. “sounds like sarah’s already rubbing off on you , sweetheart. better get away from her before it gets worse,” he joked, “have you met kelce and topper yet , honey?” his hand pointed back to his friends , who were impatiently waiting for rafe to shut the hell up.

“no , she hasn’t,” sarah answered for you, “and also screw you. have fun losing again this year!”

with that , sarah hit the gas and drove you away from her brother. her hand flew up , waving bye as she laughed along with you. “god , please don’t take anything that boy says to heart,” she advised , looking over at you with a serious expression all over her face.

“what do you mean?”

“well…” she started, “y’know how marsh called him and jj out for being camp’s biggest whores? she’s not kidding. i love jj , and i love rafe , but those boys can’t keep it in their pants to save their lives. and they’ll say pretty much whatever to get into someone else’s. that includes sweet talkin’ you like rafe was trying to do with his ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ and shit,” she continued explaining, “just be cautious.”

you nodded slowly , taking her words as gospel. every summer camp ever has one or two counselors that fuck like rabbits , but it was your luck that you found them both attractive here. good thing you had your one rule. no dating boys from camp.

it was simple and definitive.

it was clear you and sarah were going to finish before the rest of the counselors by the time you got to the last scavenge point on your list. it was at the fire pit by the cabins in plain view. sarah took a quick picture of you standing next to the fire and holding up the medallion that was placed on the bricks. finally , you were able to hop on the golf cart and head to home base.

“so there’s this party the counselors do every first night of camp , and i think you should come,” sarah spoke up as you steered your way passed the others.

“there’s not a party on the itinerary,” you replied , already having the next few days memorized.

she laughed at you gently , patting your thigh. “babe , it’s not exactly something marsha knows about,” she explained, “it’s , like , a right of passage for the leaders to get drunk off their asses before the kids come. i mean , we usually have kick backs on the weekends , but this welcoming party is much different.”

“different how?” you asked , furrowing your eyebrows, “party’s a party.”

“well , it’s bigger. every single leader comes to it. hangouts on the weekends are usually split up amongst us and our little groups , so this one is the party.”

“yeah , sure. i mean , it would be dumb to miss out on it,” you chuckled with a shrug , pulling up to the administrative office you had been in hours and hours ago.

the blonde let out an excited squeal , yanking you into a hug before hopping off the cart and running into the building. you stayed still , waiting for her to come back out. “first in line , baby!” she shouted , raising her fists into the air as soon as she stepped out the door.

you cheered and laughed with her , turning the golf cart off and getting out. “i love you , sarah cameron,” you confessed , pulling her into a hug.

it was only one day , and you were convinced she might be your person. she had divulged you into all of her stories and drama and didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you so far. she gave you space when you wanted it earlier. she was good. “i love you too,” she replied with a smile, “lets go gloat!”

AFTER SARAH rubbed the win in her brother’s face , while you stayed back and watched it , you met up with the pogues. thankfully , taylor was still with cleo. you immediately pulled her to the side.

“okay , you’re pulling me,” she grumbled , stepping along with you.

“there’s a party tonight,” you stated.

“yeah , there’s one every year. they were just telling me about it,” taylor shrugged, “we going?”

“well , yeah , but on top of that rafe was flirting with me,” you blurted out , cheeks rosy from the thought of the interaction before and after the game.

taylor nodded slowly , glancing back at your new friends before looking in your eyes. “what about jj ‘perfect for you’ maybank?” she asked , nodding to the blonde boy , who was trying to wrestle with cleo.

“no , no. that’s the point. i don’t want anything to do with either of them,” you groaned , dropping your head back for a moment, “so i need you to cockblock if anything happens.”

“all summer? why don’t you just put on a frickin’ chasity belt?” taylor whined.

you rolled your eyes. “just for tonight. hopefully , rafe will catch on , and leave me alone. as for jj , i’ll just be his friend.”

“just lead him on?” taylor corrected you, “he was already bothering me about you. asking me all sorts of questions.” there was a smile in her words , trying to push you to go for it like she always did when it came to the cute boys at camp.

“not happening,” you simply stated , shaking your head, “just cockblock this once , and i’ll , like , suck your dick or something. i don’t know , just help me. because my roommate’s brother giving me slutty eyes and smiles the three times i’ve met him is not on my agenda , taylor. especially after sarah told me he’s kind of a douchebag.”

“okay , okay. you’re so uptight,” taylor agreed, “and now that you mention it , cleo and kiara were saying the same sort of things ‘bout him , so fine. i’ll cockblock.”

just as you two finished up , jj called out to you. “ladies , c’mon! dinner time!” he waved you both over. taylor sent you a look before jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. you headed that way , noticing jj stayed behind in wait. “i see congratulations are in order,” he smiled at you , walking in step with you.

“it was all sarah , really,” you smiled coyly.

he was cute. taylor was right about that. his unruly blonde hair shoved under a beat up , red cap. combat boots pires with a cut off tee. you hated that you were so obviously eyeing him. even more when he said something again.

“you can take a picture you know.” there was a smile evident on your face , eyes gentle as he looked at you like you looked at him.

you just blushed , walking a little faster. “dinner smells good!” you commented , opening the door and rushing in to find sarah or taylor.

you all went through the line , shoving yourself in between the girls so jj couldn’t talk to you. sarah and kiara led you to a table , and you were able to eat. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you were sat down.

“cleo , i think i’m in love with you,” you groaned , taking another bit of the sandwich.

“girl , this is nothing,” kie cut in, “you should’ve been here last year. she went all out!”

“i was trying to make a good first impression,” cleo shrugged with a smile , like her cooking skills were mediocre and not something you’d dreamt of before.

“so…” john b started, “taylor told me you guys used to go to some camp in tennessee?” his question was directed at you.

you nodded , covering your mouth as you swallowed the oversize bite you just took. “mmhm,” you hummed, “skyline ridge.” you answered.

“how come you came here?” pope asked this time.

“turns out it was a baby cult,” you admitted , feeling your ears turn hot at the statement. it was kind of embarrassing how you didn’t realize until after. but who’s to blame you? you were a kid. “like , it wasn’t obvious until you left , you know?”

“kinda like the kooks!” jj pointed out with his fork.

taylor shook her head, “no , it was a little more established than your classist island drama , jj.”

“yeah , it was bad , but who cares? we’re here now,” you smiled simply.

soon enough , you all finished your meals and split up yet again to get ready for the not-so-secret secret party. sarah and you were alone again , trading clothes and trying to find a good outfit for each other.

“hey , so i know we just met and all,” sarah began , shyly twist a skirt in her hands, “but i could tell there was something bothering you when we were getting dinner. everything okay?”

god , she was so sweet.

you paused , adjusting the shirt you had switched into before looking at her. “taylor’s convinced i should get a boyfriend this summer. specifically jj , and i’m just , i don’t know , that’s just not for me.”

she nodded , perching on the edge of her bed. “why not?” it was an innocent question.

“i don’t stay in one place too long ever. i think summer camp is the only place i’ll stick around for longer than a few weeks,” you answered , sitting on your bed to face her. clothes were scattered around the both of you , but your eyes locked and it was all left behind. “ever since i ran away , i haven’t stopped to look back. there’s no reason. i travel the world and do my own thing. boys just drag ya down,” you think you explained it well enough.

“i think the right boy could lift you up , if you let him,” sarah philosophied with a sneaky smile, “on that note , i’m gonna go meet up with john b. i’ll see you at the party , y/n/n.”

you waved goodbye , watching her walk out the back door and skipping over to cabin eight. you took a deep breath , mulling over all of the options your friends had been giving you all day.

by yourself , you finished getting ready. to be completely honest , you didn’t know if you wanted to go as much anymore. it was dark , and you didn’t know your way through these woods enough to go alone. you could easily just cozy up in bed and read a book.

a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you rushed over , opening the wooden slab as you poked your earring through its hole. when the door opened , it revealed none other than rafe. “hey,” he greeted you , waiting for you to invite him in before he moved. he watched as you put another earring in.

“hi,” you replied , moving to the side to let him come in away from the bugs, “looking for sarah?”

he let out a chuckle , nodding his head. “yeah… she said she’d go on a beer run with me,” he explained , shoving his hands into his pockets after closing the door.

“she left for the lake , like , twenty minutes ago,” you grimaced , continuing to get ready while rafe stood in the cabin area. you shrugged on a crocheted cardigan and stood in front of him. “how do i look for my first party?”

his deep blue eyes scanned over your figure , taking their time to drink you in. your legs were exposed as you wore a pair of shorts you obviously cut yourself. the bralette-esque top sarah let you borrow covered hardly anything. the cardigan was your saving grace for any modicum of modesty. his fingers found his lips , rubbing them almost in an attempt to physically stop any nasty comments from flying out.

“you look real good , freshie,” rafe complimented you, “uh— i’ll let you get to the party. see ya,” he stammered out , reaching for the door handle.

“oh , well i can go with ya. since sarah ditched you,” you offered up , promptly getting him to stop opening the door. you don’t know what changed in the last minute for you to go from wanting to stay in for the night to wanting to join the camp whore on a beer run , but it was already offered.

“if you wanna. i mean , it’s just a beer run , so it shouldn’t take long,” rafe nodded, “i’ll have you back to your little pogues in no time.”

“you guys and your kooks and pogues,” you rolled your eyes , running back into your room to grab your phone and camera, “you do realize you’re all nobodies outside of that little island , right?” you questioned him , brushing past his body to slip out the door.

“you wouldn’t understand,” rafe sighed , following you outside before taking the lead to his truck.

“try me,” you pressed. you were walking passed everyone— going against the grain. you both waved to a few of the people who said hello first , and then your eyes lock on jj’s.

he was walking with pope and kiara , but his eyes were trained on your movements and who you were with. and you don’t know why , but your heart actually stung a little bit when you saw him tear his eyes away from you , going back to talking to his friends like nothing happened.

nothing did happen.

it’s a beer run with a fellow camp leader. big deal.

“so?” you nudged rafe with your elbow, “what’s this big thing between kooks and pogues my tiny mind just don’t understand!” you were being theatrical , and rafe chuckled a little bit before shoving you a little in the direction of his truck that came into view.

“it’s always been that way. the island was always the rich and the poor,” he began to explain, “but i think right now is the most polarized it’s ever been. i mean , we’re getting into fights all of the time. jj got arrested for sinking topper’s boat a couple of years ago! it’s all eye for an eye back home.”

rafe stopped to open the passenger door for you before moving around and climbing behind the wheel. you buckled up and looked at him. “you know that saying though?”

“hmm?” he hummed.

“if it’s always eye for an eye , eventually everyone is blind?” you mused , waiting for him to pick up on it.

“okay,” he rolled his eyes now, “you don’t get it.”

“no! hey , don’t pout,” you pointed at him when he focused more on the roads than the conversation , which usually you’d be grateful for a responsible driver , but you can only assume he usually isn’t. “it’s not me making fun of you as much as it is telling you there is a big , big world out there that doesn’t give a damn if your from the cut or the loop or whatever the fuck you call it.”

“figure eight,” he corrected you , fixing his pouty lips into a smile as he glanced at you again.

“whatever— do you have a fake? if not , i do , so we can get the beers,” you changed the subject.

and he laughed at you. “baby , i don’t need a fake id.”

“oh , well , okay. how old are you?” you stuttered at the nickname. what was with this man and terms of endearment?

“twenty-three.” he leaned over and gave you the biggest , toothiest smile.

“old man,” you scoffed , pushing his head away from you, “you should be old enough to realize that—“

“that the stupid generational rivalry is pointless. yeah , yeah,” he finished for you, “just let me buy you some drinks for the party and be happy about it,” he joked.

“oh , i don’t drink,” you shook your head.

that’s what got him to look at you fully. “shit— sorry , i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just , i don’t know , you offered to come with me , so i guess i just assumed,” he rambled off as you started giggling.

his brows furrowed in confusion , not understanding what was funny or why you were laughing at him. “i’m kidding , ray,” you laughed , patting his head gently, “of course i drink. why else would i have a fake , doofus?”

with the relief that you weren’t actually making fun of him , rafe was able to laugh along with you. he did take notice of the nickname you gave him , though. “ray,” he whispered.

“like sunshine , ya know? it’s an oxymoron,” you explained, “and it could easily be an actual nickname for you , so it’s perfect.”

“ray like sunshine,” rafe echoed with a nod, “how exactly is that an oxymoron?”

you looked at him with a sly smile. “you’re not exactly cheery.”

“uh uh!” he argued back, “i can be cheery as fuck!”

you let out a belly laugh , tilting your head back , and rafe thinks he’s met his maker when you do. “i would looooove to see you be anything but flirty with me or grouchy with sarah. truly , i’d enjoy it,” you remarked , shifting your seat a little.

“there’s a lot you haven’t seen from me yet,” rafe remarked , proving your point of only ever being cheeky or grumpy.

“exhibit a,” you pointed, “i’m gonna start keeping count.” the two of you chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot ( of what you assume is ) the closest liquor store to camp.

“c’mon , honey. you’re mrs. rafe cameron if anyone asks,” he included you in his little scheme as if it was a necessity to this beer run. he hopped out of the truck , opening your door once again for you to slide out and land on the ground. “after you,” he smiled , opening the business’ door.

“okay , my ray of sunshine husband,” you playfully scrunch your nose , walking into the store. he was already trying to be ‘sunshiney’ after your comment.

you paused when you stepped in , waiting for rafe to drag you through the store as you’d never been. “follow me,” he simply said , grabbing your hand like he’d done it all his life , like you weren’t two total strangers. it was that moment that made you realize you were starting to break your own rules. well , maybe you didn’t realize it realize it , but in the back of your head? you did.

he lead the way to the back cooler , stepping inside and grabbing a case of beer and one of the seltzers. “you want anything specific?” he looked over to you , seeing you standing in the door way , holding yourself tight at the temperature change. “c’mere,” he gestured to himself and opened his arm.

despite yourself , you moved quickly to him and snuggled into his side. his hand ran up and down your arm , trying to warm you up. “grab whatever you want , and we’ll get outta here.”

your hand reached for a case of ciders , but you paused to look up at him for approval. he nodded and grabbed it before you could and ushered you out of the cooler.

“id please,” the cashier spoke monotonously , looking at you and rafe like you were idiots.

“marco , i literally come here every year. we have this conversation every year,” rafe groaned , digging in his pocket for his wallet.

“and up until two years ago , you were just another jessamine shit head underage drinking,” marco joked , nodding to you, “id , hon.”

“oh—“ you started , but rafe cut you off.

“hey , she’s good,” he nodded , sending marco a message you couldn’t quite read yet, “mrs. cameron isn’t old enough yet. she’s just along for the ride. right , baby?” he continued with his lie , wrapping his arm around you again and squeezing you tight.

marco rolled his eyes , knowing rafe was going to slip him a crisp if he just processed the purchase. “have a good night , y’all,” he grumbled. you muttered a small reply , waving meekly as rafe set a hundred dollar bill on the counter. he tapped it once before grabbing the cases of drinks.

you held the door open for him this time , seeing as his arms were full. “m’lady,” you jested , even bowing before him as he walked through the exit with a scoff.

“shut up,” he chuckled , shaking his head. he set the drinks in the back seat and opened your door. “git on up,” he tapped your back before closing the door— only after making sure nothing of yours was in the way.

rafe wasn’t too sure why he was being all gentlemanly with you. maybe it was because he wanted to prove you wrong when you said he was just a flirt or a grouch. maybe it’s the way you were someone that didn’t know him yet , and he could be someone else for once.

hell , wasn’t that what summer was for?

the drive back was calm. you and rafe just chatted , asking each other questions and really listening to the other one’s answers.

you couldn’t help but think to yourself that maybe everyone else had got it wrong. rafe had depth. you listened to the way he talked about his work , his aspirations , his ideologies. he wasn’t just some camp whore you were so easily labeling him earlier.

“you know what , hubby?” you hummed , hand out the window , surfing the air. your head was rested against the seat , but you turn to look at him with a smile on your face.

“what ever is on your mind , dear?” he replied , goofy smile matching yours as did his tone. the ongoing joke between you two made you giggle before continuing.

“i think you might be one of the most complex people i have ever met,” you confessed genuinely , sweetly almost. and like it wasn’t the best , most heartfelt compliment anyone had ever given rafe , you turned forward again , closing your eyes to just feel the wind passing you by.

rafe held back a grin to himself , mimicking you and just focusing on the road to give you a quiet rest of the ride back. the peaceful kind of quiet rafe didn’t even believe existed.

a/n here it is! please let me know if you hate it or love it or have ideas!!! also: tea me posting this earlier than i expected:)

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @viennafantasies @cnnamongrl @embersfae @enchantingexile @urbrunettebombshell @wearemadeofstardust0 @psychicnatural @ecstqzy @ssqra @st4rkeyl0ver @shincidios @xoxo-ada @lmaolmaos

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namfinessed · 5 months ago

Text

ex-things - m.yg.

genre: angst (after breakup!) (4.8k)

summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.

masterlist

“scarf,” you say as soon as yoongi appears at the door, you fail to hide your smile when he throws his head back in exasperation and throws the door open.

you push past him and enter his apartment which looked…exactly the same.

but then again, you did just break up some ten minutes ago so, of course, it would be the same.

you don’t know why you expected the universe to shift just because your heart was broken.

and as you throw back the cushions on his sofa, push the things on his coffee table, look under the sofa and table, and walk past him to check the coat rack and then the kitchen, you feel his piercing gaze following your every step.

you knew where it was.

it was in your bedroom.

or well, his bedroom now.

“can you hurry the fuck up?” he groans and in that second, you eye the black plastic cover filled with two or three soju bottles sitting on his kitchen counter.

you swallow and yell back, “can you just let me look for my scarf in peace?”

another groan.

a stomp on the floor.

“fuck, i’ll mail it to you,” yoongi makes his way into the kitchen with loud steps and you arch your eyebrow at him, then look towards the green bottles shining on his counter, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and spits out, “i was going to drink today before anything ever happened, don’t feel too special.”

“really?” you muse, clinking them against each other, and in the next second, yoongi’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he’s pulling you, gently, towards the door.

“i’ll send it when i find it,” he murmurs as he pushes your coat, your car keys, and your phone into your hands, and you don’t say anything for a while.

you clutch your belongings and stand by the door until you notice how yoongi's eyes are bloodshot, their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. his shoulders rounded with an invisible weight, and you feel guilty for leaving.

“a-are you okay?” you ask, it feels stupid to ask because you know, you were the same as him.

he laughs bitterly and throws you a glare, you notice how his hands tremble beside his body, and you look away to save him and yourself from the pain of asking again.

“i just broke up with my girlfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” he breathes out, you wonder if it pains him like it’s paining you to hear his words, “now, can you leave?” yoongi gestures towards the door again.

you sigh, “wait a minute,” and enter your his home again.

“what now?” he throws his hands in the air and stomps after you.

he watches you grab the scarf from under his bed, he turns his eyes away when he sees your hands shaking while holding it, “did you know where it was?” yoongi breathes out, his face and voice in disbelief.

you don’t say anything again.

and when you leave, he pours himself glass over glass to forget the trembling of your jaw and how you paced around the apartment while knowing exactly where you kept the scarf.

he laughs again, the sound is strange, rough, and just wrong without your laugh chiming with him.

he pours himself a glass again.

it’s been a week.

“hi,” you say as yoongi walks into his house, he jumps a little, clutching his chest as his eyes widen to look for you.

you raise a hand to wiggle your fingers at him as a ‘hello, hi, ex-boyfriend, you’re back at your home and so am i!’ and yoongi blinks.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“oh, i was loo-“

“wait wait, how did you even get in?” yoongi frantically marched to his front door and twisted the knob to check for any damages and you roll your eyes.

“i found your key under the potted plant. speaking of which, do you want to get robbed or something, why would you even put it there?” you throw your hands in the air as you sip tea, grimacing as the strange, bitter taste of yoongi’s favorite green tea spreads in your mouth.

“first of all, stop drinking my tea, you don’t even like it” you put the cup down with a sheepish smile and fold your hands on the table.

“and second of all, i didn’t think i had to worry about any ex-girlfriends breaking in, my bad,” yoongi complains loudly and you press your palms to your ears, shaking your head, “i’m not even here to see you, i’m here for…well, i’m here for,” you struggle to finish the sentence.

and yoongi glares at you.

“what is it?” as he moves his head to pin his glare on you, his soft, freshly straightened hair moves with him.

“straightener!” you say loudly, clapping your hands, and yoongi’s eyebrows narrow again, “you’re going to get wrinkles, yoongi.” you point at his eyebrows but he doesn’t let up, you’re sure that his eyebrows furrowed deeper.

“okay! i’ll be on my way once i get that,” you wander off into his bedroom and yoongi throws his head back in exasperation.

your straightener is easy to find because well, it’s not yours, it’s his and it’s just sitting on his vanity but yoongi doesn’t bat an eye at that.

he only watches you move around his home with his arms crossed on his chest and an unreadable satisfaction on his face.

and when you leave, you can’t help but notice that for all his annoyance, he never tells you to not come back, and he never tells you to find everything you own and leave at once.

with that knowledge, you leave his home with the biggest grin on your face.

“you need to get out before my booty call gets here,” you happily eat your ice cream on the kitchen counter as yoongi walks into your home as if he owned it.

did you mention that he was the one to bring you ice cream?

your favorite too, one scoop of hazelnut and one scoop of brownie.

“ha ha, very funny, you should start thinking of a career in stand-up” he responds with a roll of his eyes and you giggle even more, sliding down to catch up with his pace around your home.

“what are you here for?”

“t-shirt, you know the one you stole,” yoongi shrugs and glares again, walking right into your room and you follow with hands closed behind your back, “which one?” you muse as you remember all the (10) t-shirts you’ve stolen from him.

he looks back as he nears the closet, eyes narrowing at you, “how many do you have?”

“how many can you remember that i have?”

yoongi groaned in sheer frustration and you crawled on your bed, watching him pick apart your closet, and glaring at you whenever he found one of his t-shirts in there.

for a moment, it was amusing.

it was the funniest thing to watch yoongi get annoyed, you always enjoyed it.

but in the next moment, when he was around his fifth t-shirt, you felt this ache slowly develop in your chest and spread across your throat and then your mouth, then it was everywhere.

it was this dull throbbing that you couldn’t shake and your eyes dropped to fiddle with your fingers instead of looking at him, collecting his belongings from your home.

because, just two weeks ago, it had been your t-shirts too, hadn’t they? and it wasn’t just your home then, it was yours and his, wasn’t it? sure, you had separate apartments but it never felt like that, it felt like you had two homes and both homes belonged to both of you.

and now, you only had one.

you had wrapped your arms around his back when he was in your room two weeks ago, he was here now but you couldn’t even touch a hair on his head without feeling like you’ve crossed a line.

your head was starting to collect the ache and make a home for it so you ask, “are you almost done?”

you didn’t mean to ask him that, you actually very, very badly wanted yoongi never to leave so you could believe again, ‘i have two homes, i have two toothbrushes, two mugs, two keys, two doors, and two of everything’ but yoongi pauses, he collects the t-shirts he found and nods, “yeah, i’m done.”

when he walks out of your room, the ache finally takes over your head and you follow him with dazed eyes and stumbling feet.

at the door, yoongi stops, he turns around with concern brimming in his eyes and that is enough for your hands to shake again, “you good?”

“i just broke up with my boyfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” you deepen your voice to mimic his and yoongi shakes his head with a small laugh, “you better be okay,” he says at the end, and his voice is so soft, it feels like cotton pressed into your cheeks.

and you nod because if yoongi says you have to be okay, you’ll find a way to be okay.

but when he leaves, you are back to having just one home, with one toothbrush in the bathroom, one mug in the kitchen, one set of keys in your purse, one door, and one of everything else.

and you’re sorry to yoongi.

because you don’t know if you can be okay.

a couple days passed again.

you had an angry yoongi pacing in front of you as you watched.

“you’re being ridiculous,” yoongi shoves a hand through his hair, glaring at you as you sit with arms across your chest and refusing to look at him.

“i’m not,” you huff out and he rolls his eyes.

he did that a lot.

he did that a lot with you.

“i didn’t steal your plushie, are you fucking kidding me?” yoongi whines and walks away into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

you follow him and right at the doorway, you don’t enter, you just watch his even more sunken eyes and even more rounded shoulders with conflicted eyes.

a part of you wanted to hug him.

a part of you wouldn’t mind killing him.

a part of you wanted to kiss his shoulders to lift them.

a part of you wanted to leave a red mark on his face.

but all parts of you, you couldn’t trust or believe.

these past few days, you couldn’t trust or believe anything actually.

yoongi senses your eyes on him, he knows how you look at him and how you seem to show so much with just a gaze but he holds strong.

you were broken up.

you shouldn’t be here.

hell, he’s not sure if he should be here or not either.

but he betrays himself over and over again, he lets you into his house and you let him into yours, and he feels ridiculous every time he closes your door, he’s not sure what you feel when you close his.

“i threw it away,” he shrugs his shoulders, eye muscles tensing oddly, he’s not sure if you notice or not.

“what?” your whisper is so quiet, yoongi wouldn’t have known you were speaking if he didn’t see your lips moving.

“i threw it, okay? there was no use of it being around here anymore, so i fucking threw it away,” he didn’t mean for his voice to be loud, and he didn’t mean for his words to hurt but maybe he did, maybe he wanted to hurt you.

but he loves you?

but he’s also okay with hurting you.

to an extent.

yoongi had never understood why he couldn’t love properly, why his love for others and himself had to hold a touch of pain, a touch of misery, but it was always out of his control.

it had been different with you.

for a while, that is.

but he was back to his roots now, pain and misery and love and affection held his hands and danced around him.

and he had to dance with them too.

“i threw it,” he repeated, but your plushie was tucked into his pillows, into his sleep, and into his days and nights.

it was stained with salty tears now, it was stained with the ice cream he ate after he left your home, and he didn’t want you to see it.

for a moment, you both didn’t even twitch in the wrong direction, yoongi watched the dark liquid in his cup with growing intensity and you waited for him to tell you that your plushie was safe.

“fine,” you sniffled, grabbing your coat and stomping to the door and yoongi followed, he tried not to but his feet walked ahead of his mind.

at the door, you angrily shoved your feet into your sneakers and pushed your hair out of your face, as if to prove that you weren’t crying, that you weren’t affected and anyone else would believe you.

but yoongi knows you.

and he knows your red nose and cheeks can only mean one thing.

before you close his door, you say, “you’re a horrible person, yoongi.”

he thinks he knows what you feel when you close his door now.

hatred.

you swore to yourself that that would be the last time you turn up at his place, but you had genuinely forgotten something there and needed it this time, so you swallowed your pride and rang his doorbell.

you don’t greet him when he opens the door and yoongi feels like he could fall to his knees when you shove a bag with his favorite ice cream, matcha, and coffee (he’s a caffeine guy, he runs on it), into his hands and yoongi knows he’s forgiven.

“i forgot my trousers here,” you mumble afterward and head straight into his closet to dig through for the work trousers that you cannot live without.

yoongi doesn’t dare to utter a word, he looks through his closet beside you and apologizes when his skin touches yours in any little way.

you can’t believe there was a time when you would touch him as if his body was yours too and he would touch you the same. but his apologies just dug the truth deeper into your skin, which was that you didn’t belong to him, and he didn’t belong to you.

so, you nod, you bear your cheeks heating up and thighs going weak, and just look through his neatly organized piles of clothes too.

he used to organize your stuff too, he used to section them, fold them, and keep them neatly by his clothes.

that’s how you find your trousers, crisp folds, and fresh-smelling, right beside his work clothes.

and your heart squeezes as you pull it out.

the folds loosen, the trousers limp in your hands, and that small change in its structure, makes you think of yoongi and everything that fell apart with him.

when you leave that day, you pause at the door and whisper, “you’re not horrible, yoongi, but maybe i am, maybe i ruined everything, but please don’t hate me.”

before he can catch you and wipe your tears and tell you that you were right last time, he was the horrible one, he was the one who texted late, who came home late, who missed birthdays, but you were already running away and he was left with a lit cigarette burning his throat.

“i swear, it was here,” yoongi shifts the things around your closet, head buried deep in shelves and racks of clothes and shoes, you stand at the doorway with your arms crossed against your chest, trying not to roll your eyes.

“and you have a million other headphones, so i don’t understand why you would need to find this one,” you step into the room and lazily move things around to try and find it too, yoongi scoffs from a few feet away, “it was special to me,” he says and turns his back to you again.

“why?”

“my grandfather gave it to me,” yoongi huffs, and his hands stay busy.

but.

“your grandfather died when you were five,” there was no way his grandpa gave it to him and you know you’ve caught him.

he could’ve at least tried harder with his lies.

it was strange, seeing him here, standing in your bedroom, surrounded by things that no longer belonged to both of you.

you don’t think you’ll ever get over that feeling of loss.

the moisturizer you would’ve shared with him.

the cheap wig that he would wear to make you laugh.

the razor that you would hide to annoy him.

they only belonged to you now.

though you don’t bring up his grandfather to drive him away, you only say it because it was hard for you to understand why he was here, looking for headphones that he could buy tens of pairs of.

he pauses, you wait for him to say something else, or lie about a friend who didn’t exist who gave it to him, lie about his dad giving it to him.

but yoongi doesn’t say anything.

he keeps looking.

you refused to keep anything that touched you in the last three years.

well, except for some things.

“yoongi,” you call out, pointing towards the unopened box in your closet and he turns his head that way, quickly walking over to it and flipping it upside down.

the photo album that carried your first anniversary.

the promise ring that he gave you on your second anniversary.

the matching couple t-shirt which he cringed at but wore whenever he could.

the.

so many the’s and so many first’s and second’s of things that you kept, though ‘kept’ was the wrong word, you treasured these things, you loved them.

and all of them fell on the floor with noise that shook your ears and chest, not because of the volume but because it was like you were pouring your heart in front of him.

but you loved them in the past, you liked to think that you did and you were in the present now, watching yoongi eye the things you gathered without his knowledge.

and all of it was only yours now.

“when did you keep this here?” he asks, and you immediately know he’s asking about the simple diamond ring that everyone thought was your engagement ring.

but it was just a promise ring.

and you removed it when, “that day you didn’t come for my birthday,” you mumbled, picking up the things and putting them back where they belonged.

buried inside a box.

shoved into a closet.

but before, you pull out his headphones from the box and hang it over your head for him to take.

when he takes it, his fingers touch the smallest part of your palm and your eyes gather tears as if rivers were breaking a dam in them.

yoongi stands without saying a word for a long time but then he walks to the door, “you’re not going to close your door?”

you’re not coming to see me off?

you get up unwillingly and walk to the door without sneaking another glance at him and drop the ring into his palm, “bye, yoongi.”

his hands tighten around the band of platinum.

both of you look at the dangly, worn-out wires of his headphones that hang from his other hand.

you had given them to him for your first anniversary.

not his dead grandpa or dad or friend.

it was you.

and both of you refused to acknowledge that fact.

and when yoongi finally leaves, he leaves behind a space in the air that waits for him to come back and take his place again, in your life, in your home, in your space.

but he doesn’t turn back.

and you close the door, letting the space remain.

a few days went by again.

neither of you showed up at each other’s doors anymore.

neither of you had anything left to collect.

neither of you had anything that belonged to the other.

and it was strange, the quiet, the loneliness that crept on your back and it always hit at the most unexpected of times.

when you poured your cereal in the morning, you realized you were holding the box that you had bought while grocery shopping with yoongi, it was your favorite time of the month, the one time you could really feel that he was your person.

but the box was empty by the end of your breakfast and you kept it back in the cabinet.

when you arranged your clothes, you saw your messy folding and fell back on the pile of clothes that still needed folding.

how yoongi did this every day, you had no clue.

but as you lay in pieces of cotton, linens, satins, sequins, and many more materials that hugged and pinched you, you couldn’t help but think that surely, yoongi wouldn’t leave you like this, there has to be something of his that you still own.

there has to be something.

so, you got up and with renewed desperate energy, you started searching.

you pulled upon every desk, every closet door, every nook and cranny, you searched with shaking hands and watery eyes.

“there has to be something, there has to be,” you whispered to yourself, your voice choking as things fall over from the tall walls, they fall on your feet, and your toes, and a sharp pain hits you every single time, but you push through.

because.

there has to be something.

you can’t end it like this.

you and yoongi cannot end like this.

anyone else can.

but not you, not him and you.

and the closets you look through stay ajar, the desks you’ve emptied stay tipped over, and everything you own is on the floor.

but there is none of yoongi in any of it.

so, you sink.

you sink to your knees, sobbing and flipping over items as you reach them.

because goddamit, there has to be something.

when the bell first rings, you don’t register it, you are way too intent on the clutter in front of you.

but then it rings.

and rings.

and rings, again and again.

relentless.

and you push yourself up, hoping it’s no one you know because you don’t think you can explain the tears on your face.

but when you open the door, your mouth goes dry and you know you don’t have to explain anything.

because across from you, is a red-eyed yoongi and he’s carrying a box.

“can i come in?” is all he asks, his voice barely a whisper and you’re already opening the door and pulling him in.

but once he’s in your home, in your space again, the familiar soft and sharp scent of him, the sight of him, it was too much. you couldn’t breathe. your eyes never leave him, every breath he took, every shift of his fingers, every fall of his chest, all of it was dancing in your eyes and for the love of god, you couldn’t look away.

he sets the box down and stands there with his hands opening and closing around nothing, and you want to grab them, you want to spread them across your cheeks and feel his warmth, which was sometimes cold too but you didn’t mind, you never minded with yoongi.

but instead, you curl your hands behind your back and stop yourself because it still wasn’t right.

“i don’t have anything of yours,” you start, voice already breaking, “anymore,” you finish with hands tightening so hard around each other that you could feel the bruises blooming on their surface.

“i know,” he takes a sharp inhale of breath and looks away from you and you want to beg him to look at you.

for a second, it’s just you reliving every second you weren’t with him and it’s him looking at your apartment that was void of anything personal, anything that called it a home.

“i want all of it back,” he sniffs, looking at you finally, you want to take it back, you aren’t sure how you survived three years of his eyes only on you and you squeeze your door handle, “all of what?” you whisper, and he sniffs again, “your stuff, all of it, your stupid scarf, your straightener, everything, i want all of it back, in my place, in our place, where it belongs.” he says it so quietly, so earnestly and each word has you pulling your skin tighter.

“your plushie is in this, i never threw it away but i’m taking it back, my t-shirts and headphones are in this, i’m leaving them here,” he bends over the box and starts picking things apart, and each thing he pulls out, fills you with relief.

but.

“but that isn’t right, yoongi,” you try to defend, “we aren’t together anymore,” you hate the words as they surface out of you and yoongi shakes his head.

“but is this right?” he lifts his hands from the box, his jaw trembling again and you instinctively smooth your hand over it and yoongi pushes his face into your hands.

“is it right, both of us miserable?” he whispers and the world bottoms out from underneath you, suddenly gravity is nothing and you’re both floating towards each other.

“but i hurt you,” you grip his headphones and this time, his tears fall the same as yours do, “i hurt you too.” he places a hand on your knees and that cold warmth, that bare touch leaves you open.

“but i’m done, i don’t want to hurt you anymore,” yoongi begs, he shakes his head as he says it as if he can’t believe there was a time that he had hurt you but you’re the same, you can’t believe that you hurt him once.

“before you came here, i was looking for something, anything that was yours so i could come back,” you sniffed loudly, your voice falling and lifting and yoongi listens with eyes that have always looked at you, “but i didn’t find anything, yoongi and it killed me.” your voice fully gives up as you bury your face into your hands and immediately, you feel his arms pulling you into his chest and his hands running down your hair.

“you don’t have to do that anymore, i’m back see,” he tips your face towards him and his smile is so soft, so real that it makes you smile too, “i’m not going anywhere.” he assures you with a kiss on the top of your head and your watery eyes dry out.

“me too, i don’t want this anymore, i want us, i want two of everything, i want you and i want everything,” you utter back to him, the weight of the words floating between you too.

“and you have it, you have everything again, the ring is in there too but that is for whenever you’re ready.” he kisses you again and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling like you’ve lost centuries of holding him, the thought of the ring swells your chest into a balloon that could snap, “that will take time, but thank you,” you whisper, kissing where his shoulders met his neck.

“like i said, whenever you’re ready but it will always belong to you.” yoongi whispers back and you smile in pure delight, nodding along to his words.

“we were stupid for thinking that we could stay apart,” you laugh hesitantly into his chest, the idea of the two of you trying to be separate was ridiculous to you and yoongi laughs with you, which makes you melt into his body, because it was ridiculous, you were two parts of a whole, two houses in a home, two mugs in a kitchen, two keys in your purse, two toothbrushes in one bathroom and two of everything else that you could think of.

and that was how it should’ve been, that was how it was always meant to be.

somewhere in the night, yoongi crawls up your sheets and your plushie is between the two of you and you make fun of him for acting as if he threw it away, he rolls his eyes and shushes you with a kiss.

“by the way, that straightener is yours, not mine,” you whisper and he is aghast, “i fucking knew it,” he yells and sits up, and immediately starts to complain “you know how stupid i’ve been looking with hair that looks just like holly’s!”

and you remind him, playfully this time, that what was yours was his, and what was his was yours and he falls on the bed, grumbling under his breath and complaining until the sun comes up.

and it feels right, everything that belonged to you and him back in their place, back in their homes and yoongi, back in your life, your home, and your space.

just as it should be, just as it was meant to be.

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matchingbatbites · 4 months ago

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cw: non-con voyeurism

Listen, Steve hadn’t meant to see it.

He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary; going over to Eddie’s place unannounced was normal at this point, something to be expected really. Especially since Robin is out of town this week, gone with her parents to visit family out of state. It's become commonplace for Steve to come over after his shift, late enough that Wayne had already left for his own job.

Steve lets himself into the new trailer like he usually does, and smiles at the sound of Eddie’s music coming from behind his bedroom door. Toeing off his shoes is practically second nature, even though he knows the Munsons don’t care, and he drops his keys on the kitchen counter as he passes it on his way to Eddie’s room.

The music isn’t as loud as Eddie usually plays it, and there’s already a comment about it brewing in his mouth as he opens the door. Instead Steve freezes in the archway, is thoroughly held in place by the sight before him.

Eddie is laying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the plush pillow held tight in his arms, as his hips steadily grind into another slotted between his legs. Steve’s eyes are locked on the way he rubs against the pillow, the motion steady but with a desperate edge that makes Steve feel hot all over.

He’s wearing boxers but his back is on display, a plane of smooth, pale skin occasionally interrupted by pink scars. Steve wants to kiss the knobs of his spine, wants to lick over his shoulder blades and bite into the back of his neck, hold him in place as he-

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans, the sound cutting though Steve’s thoughts and the music still playing. “Fucking- ah, please please please.”

Steve’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his grip almost painful as Eddie - all of him, the sight, the sound - goes straight to his dick. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing this.

He’s unable to move though, completely stuck in place as he watches the object of his desires dry hump a fucking pillow and somehow make it the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen.

Eddie is whimpering and whining, Steve can hear it when he focuses, listening for it under the music. He wants to shove his fingers in Eddie’s mouth, wants to know if he sounds just as needy with a cock down his throat.

A spike of terror rips through Steve as Eddie groans out a “Please, I’m- Steve,” and it takes him a second to realize that Eddie hasn’t noticed him, he’s fantasizing about him. It takes every ounce of Steve’s willpower to not just pounce, to not slot himself behind Eddie and rut against his ass the way Eddie is doing to that poor, lucky pillow.

Eddie’s desperate noises reach a peak and his hips stutter as he gasps, high and sharp. Steve only gives himself a second to watch Eddie come before he steps back, closing the door as quietly as he can. He stumbles away from it and fumbles to get his shoes back on, barely remembering to grab his keys on his way out of the home.

Steve is burning with desire as he climbs back into his car, thinks vaguely about the time Dustin tried to explain spontaneous human combustion to him and wonders if this is how it feels, this crackling, sparking heat underneath his skin.

He’s thankful for the cover of night as he shoves his hand into his pants and strips his cock in short, fast strokes, too desperate to wait, the image of Eddie too fresh in his mind-

Steve comes in almost no time, paints the inside of his briefs because he hadn’t even bothered to pull his dick out. He slumps back into the seat as he tries to catch his breath, tries to figure out his next move.

He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while, one he’s refused to act on because he couldn’t tell if Eddie felt the same, if his teasing and flirting was genuine or just all jokes.

But now he knows. He saw Eddie come with Steve’s name on his lips and he knows.

#this was supposed to be the beginning of a longer fic but i unfortunately don't think that's gonna happen #y'all can have this bit tho because i still like it #cw: noncon voyeurism #voyerurism #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes

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al-the-remix · 3 months ago

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BuckTommy Whump Week Day 4: Prompts: Getting shot // Chronic pain

Another fic for @bucktommywhumpweek! I'm hoping to finish a few more of these before the week is actually over, lol. Rated: E ... I don't know if this really qualifies as whump (like my last whump week fic 💀) but I just can't help making them all sappy atm.

What people didn’t know about bullets was that they rarely went through-and-through in a nice neat manner; not through walls, or car doors, or flesh. They bounced around inside you like a rubber ball, inflicting the most damage possible.

Buck had seen the aftermath more times than would have liked to.

The memory of being called to his first GSW was a visceral one, it had been a domestic dispute and once they’d loaded the victim into the bus, Hen had rubbed his back as he’d thrown up into some nearby shrubbery. Buck could still feel the acid burn in the back of his throat when he remembered it.

He’d seen cadaver photos in his text books, but those never compared to the real thing. The sheer volume of blood that poured out of people was enough to make him nauseous just thinking about it. The cartoonish version of a bullet hole that he’d carried around in his head for most of his life just hadn’t held up.

Maybe it had been shortsighted of him, but Buck had never taken the time to consider what might come later; not until Tommy had taken Buck’s hand in his own and laid it over the meat of his shoulder and let Buck feel the little knobs of bullet fragments lodged there, like ball bearings trapped beneath his skin.

“Do they bother you?” Buck asked, in wonder.

“Not often,” Tommy replied, his hand still blanketing Buck’s as he let him dig his fingers into his shoulder muscle like he would be more than happy to just leave it there forever. “Most of the time I forget they're even there.”

Buck found that hard to believe. He couldn’t imagine having a foreign object stuck in his body and not obsessing over it every moment of every day.

Tommy was giving him an amused, knowing look.

“What?”

“You’re going to be thinking about those for a while aren’t you?”

Buck huffed, rolling his eyes. It was a little unsettling maybe, sometimes, being understood so through and quickly by another person. He liked it; it made him feel all shivery and warm inside, but more importantly it made him feel daring. Bold.

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

Tommy took Buck’s hand in his own: his palm big, warm and dry, and slid it down to rest on the muscular curve of his outer thigh. “There’s some more over here too,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as Buck gave all the nice warm flesh there a squeeze.

There wasn’t a lot of talking after that, but Tommy had been right, Buck had thought about it for a while, his mind stuck on invisible scars and mementoes carried around inside you that no one else could see.

///

Buck wasn’t sure if it was the thunder or the soft orange glow spilling into the mezzanine that woke him. Quiet noises came from the kitchen below, the muted purr of the kettle and the shuffle of Tommy’s socked feet against the tile. Tommy had still been in Buck’s bed when he’d fallen asleep hours ago, tucked up against Tommy’s side as Tommy read by the lamp light.

Buck pulled on his sweatpants and made his way down to the main floor, feeling oddly awake for 4 am. He rarely had a bad night’s sleep when Tommy was with him, taking up space in Buck’s bed and stealing his covers.

Tommy sent him a guilty look when he noticed Buck, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, not pulling honey from Buck’s kitchen cabinet. He was wearing one of Buck’s old hoodies and some sleep shorts. The circles under his eyes were dark and deep. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispered like Buck might be standing there in front of him, still asleep.

“I don’t mind,” Buck said and meant it. He wasn't the one with the shift in far too few hours.

Buck leaned back against the edge of the counter crossing his arms as he did, and settled in. He knew whatever was bothering Tommy would work its way out on its own, like a splinter buried beneath skin. He watched quietly as Tommy stirred honey into his tea. Buck was no stranger to sleepless nights and aching bones. Tommy had sat with him through some of the more recent bad nights, endlessly patient.

Buck watched him closely, quietly analyzing the tilt of his body and the clench of his jaw as Tommy leaned against the counter opposite him. The cool light from the stove hugged the contours of his face, digging out dark wedges beneath those cheekbones that could cut glass.

“Well, aren't you gonna ask?”

Buck shrugged. “I figured I'd just wait you out.”

Tommy sighed, setting his mug to the side. He was smart enough to know when he was on the losing side of a battle. “It's the scar tissue around the shrapnel I've still got in me. Every so often it begins to pull in uncomfortable ways and makes it impossible to get settled.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Tommy tilted his head like he was really considering Buck and his words. “Honestly I don't know, I normally just take an Ibuprofen and put on a movie or something and try to just ignore it.”

“Well, I think we can do better than that,” Buck said, and Tomy raised a brow, curiosity peaked.

With hands planted firmly on Tommy’s shoulders, Buck guided him back upstairs to bed and got him splayed out on his belly across the center of the mattress on a towel, sweater-less, with his arms tucked comfortably under his head.

“Finally, just where I want you,” Buck teased as he straddled Tommy’s waist, reaching for the massage oil. He could feel Tommy’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, muffled by the pillow.

Buck admired the span of Tommy’s back as he warmed the oil up between his hands, deciding where to begin. The bullet and shrapnel scars were faint now, Buck knew their locations by memory and feel alone. He started by smoothing his hands up the center of Tommy’s back, following the column of his spine and the thick muscles flanking it, getting Tommy warmed up and used to his touch before applying more pressure.

Buck always preferred to talk while he worked, and with Tommy the smooth flow of words came easy. If he let himself, he could probably let his mouth run for hours, and Tommy would listen.

“You know, I wanted to be a masseuse for a while.”

Tommy hummed, his eyes had drifted shut when Buck began to work on the tight knot of tissue just below his shoulder blade, he peeled one open now, offering Buck an amused look over his shoulder. “And which hunky guy did you follow that career into?”

“Ha ha,” Buck said, poking his fingers playfully into Tommy's side, just to watch him squirm. “Actually, it was after working at the ranch, there was this ex bronco rider, who had compressed his spine one too many times, mucking out stalls with me. He told me all about how his girlfriend had taken massage therapy classes to help him with his back because his insurance wouldn’t cover the treatment.”

“Ah, so it was a hunky girl that time.”

Buck chuckled. He liked how easy it was to talk with Tommy about stuff like this; he wasn’t ashamed of himself or his past, but he was wary of how people might perceive him because of it. He’d wanted so badly for Tommy to think of him as a serious person, to know that Buck was all in. That dating him didn’t imply some sort of unspoken risk–and with Tommy it never had.

“You know me–I always liked the idea of helping people, I just didn't know how, yet.”

“Maybe I’m being selfish, but I think you ended up right where you were supposed to be,” Tommy said, and groaned in pleasure when Buck really started working at the scar tissue webbed deep within his back muscle.

“How’s that feel?” Buck asked, anticipating Tommy's approval.

“Fucking awesome.”

Buck grinned. He knew he was good with his hands, but it was a whole nother thing entirely to be good with his hands for Tommy. Pleased with himself, a heavy satisfaction settled warm in the pit of his stomach. He loved everything about this: having Tommy pliable and relaxed beneath him, working slick skin over with his hands, making Tommy feel good, being able to help in some small way.

Buck shuffled down, straddling Tommy’s leg so he could work his fingers into the outside of Tommy’s thigh where he knew a metal shard the size of his thumbnail lived. That one had been logged in there when an IED had struck the lead vehicle in their convoy, and some of Buck’s satisfaction melted away as he thought about just how many close calls his boyfriend’s body was littered with. He was normally the one getting shit for taking risks, but in truth Tommy was just as guilty as he was.

Tommy had gone completely boneless underneath him, his skin pink and a little shiny from having Buck’s oiled up hands all over him. He continued to rub gently circles into his skin even after he’d finished with the final shrapnel wound he knew of, running his nails lightly over the thick swirls of hair on the backs of Tommy’s legs.

Tommy shifted his hips against the mattress, spreading his legs a little wider. Buck knew that move, and that satisfaction in his gut twisted and flared back to life. He slid his hands up the backs of Tommy’s thighs as slowly as he could handle.

“Are you hard?” he asked, worming his fingers under the hem of Tommy’s shorts when he reached them.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. “That felt really good, but, uh, we don’t have to do anything, you must be tired and–”

He was starting to sound way too with it for Buck’s liking. Buck dug his thumbs into the soft inner flesh of Tommy’s thighs and let his hips roll in a slow, pointed drag along the back of Tommy’s leg so there was no way he could miss the semi Buck was sporting.

Tommy’s muscles jumped under his hands as he groaned. “Okay, Okay, you’ve made your point. Help me out of these–”

Buck was more than happy to peel Tommy’s shorts down his legs as Tommy lifted his hips obligingly. He had half a mind to just dump a generous amount of the oil on Tommy’s big pale ass and go to town, but he had a feeling that would probably ruin the [slowly winding] mood they’d built.

In a show of what he considered great restraint, Buck slipped a slick hand between Tommy’s thighs, rolling his balls softly in the palm of his hand just to hear the noises he would make. Quiet chuffs and deep groans were muffled by the pillow as Tommy ground his hips in lazy circles against the mattress and back into Buck’s hand, and Buck was starting to think he’d never get over how good it felt to have another man like this: a big body to push and pull and work at until it ultimately unraveled.

Buck stretched up so he could press a kiss to the thick curve of Tommy’s shoulder, not caring one bit about the oil that still clung to his skin. He let his hand drift up and rubbed his slick fingers indulgently over Tommy’s asshole, gratified by the way he moaned and pushed into it.

“You can if you want to,” Tommy said, breathless, and Buck could tell without even looking at his face how gone he was just from having Buck’s hands on him.

“I have a better idea,” Buck said, pulling at Tommy’s hip. “Here–roll onto your side for me.”

It didn’t take Tommy long to clue in once Buck pressed himself all up along his back and reached for the bottle of oil again, slicking his dick up in the shallow space between their bodies.

His body tensed when realization dawned. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Evan– ”

And it was Tommy’s turn to lose his cool, his voice reedy and feverish, a thin tremor through his body as Buck maneuvered his thigh so he could fit his dick into that hot, tight space between them. He wrapped an arm around the barrel of Tommy’s chest, pinning him tight against his own as Buck took that first long, indulgent roll of his hips.

Buck had always enjoyed fucking someone’s thighs–what wasn’t there to like–but there was something specific about the way Tommy got so worked up over it, even in the early hours of the morning after a sleepless night, even when Buck had just worked his body to jello with his hands, that rocketed the act up into the stratosphere.

Tommy squeezed his thighs around him, Buck could hear the labored cadence of his breathing and the obscene sounds of him fisting his own cock, as Buck fucked the slick give of his thighs. The way the head of his dick kept nudging up against the soft resistance of Tommy’s balls with every stroke was still just different enough to scratch at Buck’s brain in new and interesting ways.

Tommy’s fingers dug into his hair, pulling Buck’s face down so he could slide their mouth together at an awkward angle. The kiss was sloppy, Tommy kept sucking Buck’s tongue into his mouth and then breaking away to moan again and again as he got closer to coming. Buck could feel it all through his body, wound like a coil ready to spring. He wasn’t far behind, his plan to keep things slow and simmering had fallen through quickly. He should have known better; with Tommy pressed against him like one big throbbing pulse, overwhelming Buck’s senses with the musky scent of his body, and the sounds he made when he touched himself, and how good it felt to rut against him like this, the desperate slide of skin against skin, there was just no chance he was going to last.

Buck buried his face in the hollow of Tommy’s shoulder, just above where that pale constellation of shrapnel lived, and stilled as he came in thick pulses all along Tommy’s taint, that little space between his thighs instantly going wet and frictionless.

Tommy made a wounded sound, and Buck held him tight in the cradle of his arms as Tommy hitched his hips into his fist until he came. He was still pressing kisses against Tommy’s damp hairline when Tommy reached up and laced their fingers together, no longer shaking.

“Well, I’m definitely not thinking about the stupid shrapnel anymore.”

“Good,” Buck said, allowing himself to feel smug about it. “My work here is done.”

“Not so quick hot stuff,” Tommy said, reaching back to pat him on the hip. “I expect your help de-oiling in the shower. I think this mess is a four-handed operation.”

“Yes, sir.” Buck peeled himself from where he’d been clinging to Tommy like a limpet.

He took a moment to admire the long, glistening stretch of Tommy’s body, limp and satisfied. Debauched, even.

"What?" Tommy asked, stretching his arms above his head as he rolled onto his back, offering Buck a good view of where his come was actively drying in his happy trail. Buck would have a fun time scrubbing that out.

"Nothing, I'm just happy you're here, with me."

Tommy face went immediately soft and he pressed up on his knees so he could pull Buck into one more lingering kiss before breaking away.

"There's no where I'd rather be."

#bucktommy #mine

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crushmeeren · 1 year ago

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Warnings; Female Reader, Female Anatomy Used, Kissing, Pussy Eating, Vaginal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex (Double Penetration 😏), Dirty Talk, Praising, Cream Pies! Generally just fluffy and smutty, my personal favorite combo.

Note; Well here it is, my Crowley/Reader/Aziraphae one shot. It’s written with a female bodied reader because I’m female and that’s what I know best. I loved writing this. Once again it became very long and I could not stop the train. Hope everyone who wanted this enjoys it.

AO3 Link; The Devils Hour😈

Word Count; 7.5k

If anyone would like me to write Gender Neutral or Male Reader One Shots, let me know! I would love to do that!☺️

It’s 3 am. You notice after glancing at the red numbers on the digital clock currently sitting on your nightstand. It’s the devils hour. Which is kind of funny considering you’re missing the actual demon that usually occupies part of the bed. It’s completely dark in your shared room, the only other light is from the moon peaking through the curtains, letting you see occasional shapes as you look around the room. You hear the sounds of cars driving down your road once in awhile, and you just hope it’s Crowley, pulling up in his Bentley, Queen music blaring.

You’re halfway laying on your belly and your right side, left leg bent and tucked up beside your waist as you reach out a hand to run it over the soft blanket on the side of the bed that Crowley usually sleeps on. Except right now it’s empty. The blanket feels cool to the touch and it’s unsettling. You grip the blanket tightly, knuckles turning white, before releasing it. The bed’s just too big and it teeters on the line of feeling wrong without Crowley there with you and the Angel.

You start to feel a tug in your chest at the familiar ache of missing the demon. The uncomfortable emotion settles in your heart heavily, sinking into your chest, almost like a lead balloon. It weighs you down and presses you into the mattress a little bit more than before. As you lay there contemplating your misery you hear the blanket rustle behind you and you’re reminded you still have your sweet Angel in the bed with you. It makes you feel a tad lighter.

“Angel,” you breathe out, feeling a warm, steady arm wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you closer. Aziraphale curls up against your back, shifting a knee to get between the soft skin of your thighs. Pillowy lips press a kiss into the back of your neck, over a knob in your spine, which he has access to since your hair’s pulled up into a bun.

“Is everything alright my dear? Why are you awake?” Aziraphale questions, voice quiet and raspy with sleep. You scoot back as much as you can into his embrace and rest your hand on the forearm that holds you.

“I miss Crowley, I thought he would be home by now,” you respond, voice thick with emotion, eyes stinging, threatening to fill with tears. You feel as if you’re being a bit over dramatic but who cares, you miss him. You would miss the Angel just the same if he were gone. You pull the soft blanket up over your shoulder, covering you both.

He brings his hand to the bottom of your large T-shirt. It’s some older, worn one Aziraphale never wears anymore. He wants to get closer to you and he slips that hand underneath, fingers rubbing the skin of your belly soothingly this time as he wraps his arm around you even tighter in comfort.

“I know my love, I miss him too. The old boy is alright. He’ll be home soon. He can’t stay away from us for long, you know that,” Aziraphale says, tone reassuring, nuzzling the back of your head gently. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and it makes you shiver slightly, goosebumps erupting up your arms and legs. An involuntary pulse of arousal makes your pussy clench around nothing. You try to ignore it. Which of course doesn’t work.

“I know, I just, well it’s been awhile since we’ve all been in bed together. I miss being with both of you,” you say shyly, craving the intimacy and pleasure that comes with the three of you having sex together. Missing the way one of them stretches open your pussy as the other presses into your tight arse. The image flashes behind your eyelids and your cheeks burn as your entire body feels too hot. Your pussy clenches again and you squeeze your thighs around the Angels knee for some relief. Aziraphale feels the way you press your pretty little arse into his pelvis, feeling his dick twitch at the sensation.

“Darling,” Aziraphale starts to coo, “You’re missing our demon that badly huh?” he teases, fondly of course, raising up on one elbow to lean forward and press a sweet kiss to the side of your neck.

“Yes.” It comes out as a breathy moan. The Angel hums against your neck. He lets his soft lips trail over your earlobe and whispers in your ear.

“Maybe I can help you feel a little better, my pretty little doll.” You breathe in sharply. You can definitely feel your own heartbeat in your pussy. Warmth pools in your lower belly instantly. The Angel presses his knee a little bit further and puts pressure against your aching clit. Just that little bit of contact feels so good, making your limbs tingle warmly. It makes you crave the loving he’s so gifted at giving.

“Please Angel.” Voice on edge, as you squeeze your bare thighs around the knee he has pushed against your pussy. You rock your hips, grinding your clit onto his knee a couple times, groaning softly. Aziraphale watches your movements, feeling your warm pussy rubbing against his bare leg through your panties, a slightly wet sensation. Your sweet noises reach his ears and his entire body flushes hotly, his cock jumping against your arse, filling out steadily. He can’t help but slip his knee free and roll you onto your back, eager to keep going.

You let him manhandle your body and your head ends up resting on a pillow. You look up at his pretty blue eyes. He bites his bottom lip and helps you bend your legs at the knee, placing your feet on the mattress. You only make one short sound of protest at the loss of his touch and he laughs brightly.

“There, there my love, I’ll be touching your pretty body again shortly,” he says, playfully as he makes his way closer between your thighs, pushing them wide open with his hands on your knees. He decides to shove off the fuzzy blanket that was covering the two of you, it had start to just pool around his waist. It gathers at the end of your bed.

You lick your lips and reach out for Aziraphale with a soft pout on your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt and tug him to you. His lips pull into an amused smile and he lets himself be pulled. He rests his elbows on either side of your head, gently relaxing his weight down onto you, and you both groan at the feeling of your chests pressing together. His body crushes you slightly and for some reason it turns you on even more. You can feel his warmth through both your shirts and it makes your nipples harden.

You yearn to kiss him, so you grip his shoulders and pull him down to your mouth. Aziraphales sweet, plump lips slotting against yours perfectly. The Angel makes you feel safe, loved, happy and your kiss conveys all of that. He tilts his head as he moves your lips together slowly, intimately. The kiss starts to feel like heated honey, the sweetness of it soothing some of the bitter ache you both feel missing Crowley.

You moan into his mouth and poke your tongue out to run it against his bottom lip. You hear him whine as he opens his mouth instantly letting you in. You twist your tongue with his for a moment just tasting him before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. You chomp down, biting it and releasing it with a wet sound. He moans low in his throat.

“Oh, you’re such a little tease aren’t you?” Aziraphale tickles your ribs softly as he leans down to kiss your neck. You let out a happy giggle, pushing at his hands without much force. You let yourself enjoy the feeling of his mouth, melting under his touch in a puddle of warm goo. His hands trail down your sides to the bottom of your shirt. He grips the edge of it and sits back on his calves so he can pull it up and off of you. You sit up a little and let him strip you, tossing it to the side. The cool air hits your chest giving you goosebumps again. As you lay back again, his fingers have already slipped into the waistband of your panties. You let out an accidental laugh.

“You’re so eager Angel,” you say, teasing him. He looks at you and grins, giving you a wink. You bite your lip and tilt your head down to watch him. You decide to be proactive and lift your hips for him. He makes an approving noise as he tugs them down your legs, again tossing them aside carelessly. Aziraphale runs his hands appreciatively over your soft thighs and up your belly. You whimper at the feeling of his warm hands. He smiles at you lovingly and leans forward to nuzzle at the space between your breasts. You feel a sharp pinch, like being stung by a bee and you know he’s sucking a love bite into the skin there. You let out a yelp at the sensation of teeth as your hands shoot up to tangle into his soft, white curls.

“Oh! Oh-hah that feels so good Angel.” Whining as he shifts his head to the left, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Aziraphale wraps his lips around your perky bud and sucks harshly, tongue flicking up and down. A low moan vibrates in your chest and your back arches up into his touch. You’re starting to sweat as your thighs clench around his hips and he presses his pelvis down into your groin. His covered cock spreading the slick folds of your pussy. He releases your nipple with a pop and gasps sharply at the feeling of your warm pussy rubbing against him. He pushes his hips up, grinding against your clit, sending tingles of pleasure and relief up your spine.

“Azi,” you say, whining. You let the last syllable drag out. He knows you’re starting to feel it as you only use that nickname when you’re in bed.He snickers a little bit, moving his hips slowly, letting his cock drag continuously through your folds and against your clit. It’s soaking his briefs.

“Hmm? Is your pretty pussy feeling good my sweet girl?” he whispers, in a way that sounds like he’s teasing but it’s wrapped in a loving tone. Aziraphale doesn’t usually speak so filthily, at least not outside of the bedroom. He pushes through the embarrassment each time because it turns him on so much seeing your sweet reactions to his words.

“Yes! Yes, S’good Azi, want you inside Angel.” Crying out to him, you dig your nails into his forearms. Heavens, that really sets him off. He knows his cock is flushed and hard as steel. He can feel the throb of heated arousal in his groin and how his briefs are sticking lewdly to his leaking tip. He groans your name and leans down to kiss at your collarbone. The feeling makes your eyes flutter closed, tilting your jaw up as you lose yourself in him.

“Well, for hells sake, don’t you two just make the loveliest picture. Couldn’t wait for me to get home huh?” A smooth voice purrs from the open doorway of their room. You and Aziraphale immediately freeze in place at the sound of his voice, breaking apart as you shoot up to sit straight up in the bed and the Angel turns on his knees to face the demon. Crowley flips on the switch to the low light of their room, bathing them all in soft, warm light.

Both of your faces light up like the sun as you recognize the voice belonging to the red head and you’re both scrambling off the bed and shooting towards Crowley. Your foot almost getting caught in the blanket as you tumble off the bed. The demon laughs happily as the two of you wrap your arms around his waist, sandwiching him in between you and the Angel. You not caring you’re completely naked and Aziraphale not caring he’s sporting a raging boner that’s poking Crowley straight in the thigh.

“Miss me did we?” Crowley teases in a smooth voice, as he lets himself be squished, absolutely loving it. Sounding like a cat who doesn’t want to admit he wants affection. The two of them release him as they all smile happily.

“We missed you so much love, I didn’t think you’d be home tonight,” you say, voice full of love, excited now that you are all three together. Crowley slips his glasses off and walks to place them on the side table, shrugging off his jacket and toeing off his shoes.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be home tonight either but I couldn’t stand being away for much longer,” he replies, with a smirk.

“Yeah, that’s what Azi said too,” you comment offhandedly, in a joyful tone of voice. You move to sit on the edge of the bed and Aziraphale walks closer to Crowley, getting in his space. Crowleys eyebrows raise up at the nickname as he looks at you briefly before making eye contact with the smug looking Angel.

“Azi huh? Just how good was the Angel making you feel, you pretty little demon,” he says, with a smirk, knowing you only call the Angel that when you’re in bed, when you’re getting all needy and whiny. When you start to feel so good your words slur and you beg the Angel to pound you. Your cheeks turn a bright pink at his words. Aziraphale speaks before you can.

“Oh dear, I was just getting a little bit of a taste of our girl before you came home. I thought you’d enjoy a bit of a feast when you got here. I had a feeling you’d be home late like this…wanting a late night snack my love,” the Angel says, in a teasing voice, sounding ridiculously seductive. Crowley grins wickedly in return and leans down in Aziraphales face.

“You’re such a good Angel,” Crowley coos, as he leans closer and presses his lips against the Angels. Aziraphale sighs happily and wraps his arms around Crowleys neck, melting into the kiss as their lips move together sensually.

You wiggle where you sit on the edge of the bed, belly heating dangerously as the atmosphere between the three of you charges significantly. Crowley fitting seamlessly into the situation, like he was never even gone. Watching the two of them together is bewitching. The way their lips meet and move together with a slick noise. Crowley tugging Aziraphale forward by his hips. Seeing flashes of their tongues disappear in each others mouths. Your pussy throbs repeatedly and you can’t help but let out a whine, wanting their attention. They break from the kiss but not their position, still glued together. Both of them turning their heads to look at you, faces looking way too smug.

“Feeling left out my love? You’re such a needy little demon.” Teasing you, Aziraphale breaks away from his embrace with Crowley. He walks towards you and stops a few inches away from your spread thighs. You nod and bite your bottom lip. You maintain eye contact with Aziraphale as he hooks his thumbs into his briefs and slowly pushes them down his hips. You then watch as his cock bobs free when the waistband of his briefs catches on it. He pushes the underwear the rest of the way off. You can’t keep your eyes away from his pretty pink cock. Thick, but not too long. You reach out a hand to wrap your fingers around his dick but he grabs your wrist. “Not yet my dear. Let’s wait for Crowley okay?” he says, softly, eyes sparkling with amusement at your eagerness. Your lips turn into a small pout and you nod reluctantly as your eyes glance over to see what the demon is doing.

Crowley took advantage of you being distracted and had busied himself with shedding his clothes, leaving him in his briefs and black tee currently. You bite the inside of your lip while you run your eyes over his lanky figure. You notice the Angel so the same. Crowleys lips tug into a one sided smirk.

“Love,” the Angel calls out, gently, to get your attention. You look up at him once again. “Why don’t we get a better view of our gorgeous boy huh?” he says.

“What do you have in mind?” you question, curiously, wondering what’s running through the Angels brain. He pointedly says nothing as he gets on the bed next to you and crawls to the headboard. He props up a couple pillows against the frame and he turns to lay his back against them, letting his legs fall open as he plants his feet.

“Come sit in my lap love, let’s enjoy a show and watch Crowley get undressed,” Aziraphale says, with a sly smile. Your belly flips eagerly as you nod excitedly and quickly move up the bed. You turn around as well and sit in between his legs. You rest your back against his chest as you recline, you can feel his heart beating steadily. Aziraphale maneuvers you until each of your thighs are resting on the outside of his, spreading your legs and pussy open. He wraps his arms around your waist as you watch Crowley move to the end of the bed, standing by the edge. His eyes roam your spread body. As his serpent eyes make their way to your cunt, he licks his bottom lip, forked tongue flicking out, and he palms his dick through his underwear.

“C’mon Crowley, we wanna see you get naked,” you say, feeling amused. You feel the Angels soft breath on your neck as he chuckles. Crowleys head tilts back as he laughs.

“Eager for me?” he jokes. You both nod and Aziraphale squeezes your waist again and rests the side of his face against yours.

“Yes dear, we’ve missed seeing your body,” Aziraphale says, eagerly. Crowley wiggles his eyebrows and he reaches for the bottom of his shirt and in one movement pulls it off, letting it drop on the ground. You both cheer softly. Crowley laughs and hooks his fingers into his waistband, lingering. “Doesn’t our dear boy look so..enticing?” The Angel whispers in your ear. You shiver and nod. The Angel trails one hand from your waist down your belly slowly. He brushes his fingers through the curly hair on your mound. Your heart rate picks up and you feel liquid heat in your belly as he softly places his pointer and middle finger on your clit. You inhale sharply, legs flexing around the outside of his thighs. Crowley watches the movements of his Angels hand and he bites his bottom lip. You see Crowleys cock fill out completely in his briefs as the Angel starts to rub slow, tiny circles into your clit. You feel Aziraphales cock start to harden again against your back. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you moan loudly as pleasure smolders through you, straining to keep your eyes open and on Crowley. “Ah, that’s a good girl, keep those pretty eyes on Crowley love,” Aziraphale praises, moving his fingers a little faster. You began to breathe a little heavier, wiggling slightly and Crowley can’t wait anymore. He pushes his briefs off and steps out of them.

You’re letting out soft sounds of pleasure and you reach out a hand for Crowley, making a grabby motion at him. He smiles and makes his way up to you both before sitting on his haunches. He grabs your hand and squeezes your fingers before letting your hand rest against your belly. He makes eye contact with Aziraphale briefly as you watch them have some sort of mental conversation, before Crowley smirks. The Angel slows his fingers down and you make a protesting noise. He stops and slips a finger up and down through your folds, covering it in slick before pulling it away. You cry out, whimpering his nickname. He giggles and whispers in your ear.

“What do you want my pretty little doll?” Shifting in place, you flex your open legs briefly.

“I- I want his mouth,” you mumble softly, eyes glued to the demons lips. You’d been thinking about Crowley eating you out for a week now. It being the star of many of your recent dreams. The other two snicker.

“I can’t hear you dear, can’t you speak up,” Aziraphale says, in a bit of a condescending tone, teasing you and kissing the side of your neck. You burn with embarrassment, but it just turns you on even more.

“Such a whiny little demon, can’t even tell us what she wants. Angel, I think she wants me to eat her pussy.” Crowley grins, letting his tongue flick out again. You feel the Angels dick twitch against your lower back at the words. He loves watching Crowley eat you out.

“Oh yeah?” he giggles. “Do you want Crowley to eat your pretty little pussy love?” You groan loudly, feeling so unbelievably turned on by the filth that leaves their mouths. Aziraphale holds onto your hips and makes a tsk sound, like he’s disappointed before he speaks. “Now my dear, use your words. Tell Crowley you want him to use his wicked mouth to eat your pussy.” Crowley rubs a hand soothingly up and down your thigh.

“Yeah sweetheart, tell me you hearts desire,” Crowley teases, trailing a finger down the crease between your wet heat and your thigh.

“Fuckk, Crowley please, I want you to eat my pussy,” you say with a whine, feeling too hot in your skin, legs tingling from where they’re stretched open. You hear Aziraphale inhale sharply as the words leave your mouth. Crowleys smile can only be described as hungry. He moves onto his belly in between your thighs in a way that can only be described as a slither. Your breath catches as his face gets close to your pussy.

“Good job sweetheart,” he says, breath fanning over your clit. Your hips twitch upwards involuntarily in response. Aziraphale rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down to enjoy the view. Crowley keeps eye contact with you both as he closes the distance and his tongue pokes out to slide between your folds and up to your clit. He licks stripes into your clit, swirling his tongue in a circle.

“Fuck! Crowley, oh god!” you choke out, moaning lowly as swirls his tongue leisurely. Your hands shoot out to tangle in his red hair, tugging tightly. His eyes flutter for a second and he moans against your pussy. You and Aziraphale watch the demon with undivided attention.

“Heavens, this is beautiful. You’re such a good girl, letting Crowley eat your pussy.” Aziraphale says, voice breathless. His arms tighten around your waist and you feel his dick throb. Crowley wraps his lips around your clit and sucks gently, flicking his forked tongue at the same time. Your thighs tense against Aziraphales, wanting to close around the demons head. Your eyes squeeze shut as your head falls back onto the Angels shoulder. A wail tears from your chest.

Crowley digs his nails into your thighs and he starts to make out with your pussy. He rolls your swollen clit over and over between his lips, using his tongue to help push you closer to the edge. Your slick and his saliva coating his lips. You can feel it drip down to your arse and onto the bed. You feel Aziraphales fingers grip your jaw, squeezing and tugging your chin so your head tilts down to watch Crowley.

“Eyes open, my dear. Be good,” Aziraphale coos. You start to pant and force your eyes open to watch the demon devour you. Crowley takes one hand off your thigh and brings it close to your pussy, dragging it through your folds as he sucks on your clit again. He rubs the flat of his tongue up and down your clit in a steady rhythm.You jolt in slight surprise as you feel a miraculously lube covered finger rub circles over your arse hole for a moment, trying to loosen you up.

“S-shit Crowley!” you say, shakily as his finger just glides into your hole smoothly all the way to his last knuckle. The demon sucks gently on your clit to help ease the ache. The Angel brings his hands up to grip your breasts, after letting go of your jaw.

“You think you can take both of us tonight my love?” Aziraphale asks, gently and noses at your jaw. You nod quickly, arse tightening around Crowleys finger and he pops off your pussy for a moment, starting to pump his finger and kissing your clit once more shortly.

“Oh, she likes that Angel,” Crowley purrs, before quickly pulling his finger back and adding a second. He presses them in gently past your rim, then all the way in. You moan at the familiar uncomfortable sensation of you arse stretching to fit his fingers, insides throbbing dully.

“I know she does,” the Angel giggles. Aziraphale brings one hand off your breasts back down to rub circles into your clit again, using the saliva left from Crowleys tongue to make his fingers move smoother. You cry out his name and your hands grip his forearms harshly.

“Azi! Yeah-yes, want you both, need you both at the same time!” The other two moan in unison.

“Fuck, okay, yes, let me stretch you a little bit more okay doll?” Crowley rumbles, Aziraphale moves his fingers a bit quicker on your clit and your pussy clenches around nothing as your tight heat squeezes Crowleys fingers. Aziraphale takes his fingers off your clit and grips your breasts again, pinching your nipples between his fingers. He sucks bites into your shoulder, letting you enjoy the feeling of Crowleys fingers in your arse. You sigh in relief, clit getting sensitive and moan at the feeling of fullness. The burning ache, dulling to a pleasurable tingle. The demon focuses on stretching you open for a few more moments. You feel your back start to stick to Aziraphales chest, feeling him nuzzle into the back of your neck, holding your waist again. The demon adds a third finger, spreading them in the process.

“Crowley,” you moan, softly.

“What is it my sweet little demon?” he asks, looking up at you.

“I’m ready, please, no more,” you say, breathily.

“You ready Angel?” Crowley asks Aziraphale, knowing the Angel is brimming with anticipation.

“Yes my dear, I want to be inside of her so badly,” he responds eagerly, thrusting his hips slightly, rubbing his dick up against your back. You feel the discomfort of Crowley slipping his fingers free and you whimper. Crowley sits up on his knees and smiles widely. You reach your hands up to grip his cheeks, pulling him forward into a kiss, realizing you hadn’t had the chance yet. He hums softly against your lips and you kiss sweetly, his lips feeling like coming home. It only lasts a brief moment, all three of you too worked up to wait longer. Aziraphale unwinds his arms, releasing your legs and sneaks out from behind you. He sits at your side and Crowley in front of you.

“Doll, how do you want us this time?” Crowley asks, caressing your cheek with his hand. You look between the two of them and your cheeks heat up. Aziraphale is a little bit thicker then Crowley, meaning he’ll stretch your arse out more, which could be uncomfortable. On the other hand you haven’t seen Crowley in a week and want to be face to face with him, feeling his dick stretch your pussy. They wait patiently for your answer. Each of them with a hand around their cocks, aching for relief.

“I think, I think I want Crowley to be in my pussy this time,” you say, as your blush travels to your chest, feeling a little guilty. Aziraphale notices the guilty look on your face and he leans close to press a kiss to your cheek. He leans back and looks into your eyes.

“Love, don’t feel guilty, there’s nothing to feel bad about. You know I love being inside of your tight little arse.” Grinning, he backs off again. You giggle lightly. Crowley smiles at you both and moves to lay on his back on the bed. He bends his knees and plants his feet.

“Well then pretty girl, come sit on my dick,” Crowley remarks, looking all too happy with himself. You roll your eyes playfully and move to straddle his lap. You feel the heat of the Angels chest on your back as he settles between Crowleys legs.

“Azi, will you help me?” Without turning your head you speak to Aziraphale and you watch Crowleys cock jump as you speak. You wink at him. He sticks his tongue out at you with a little hiss. Aziraphale moans into the skin of your shoulder.

“Heavens love, you’re gonna make me cum before I even get inside of you,” he replies, he grips your hips guiding you to lift onto your knees. You obey and stay still as one of his hands snakes under you to grab onto Crowleys leaking, hard cock. You both hear the demon let out a hiss. Aziraphale lines up Crowleys cock with your soaking pussy. Aziraphale teases you both by rubbing Crowleys tip through your folds, spreading them gently and you both whine, you dig your nails into the demons chest. You hear the Angel laugh before he lets the demons cock catch on your pussy and he tugs your hip, pulling you down onto Crowleys cock. When you start to feel the delicious stretch of the demon, Aziraphale stills your descent.

“Wait love.” Scooting back the Angel gets a better view of you two.

“Angel, c’mon stop teasing us, let me inside her pussy,” Crowley all but growls, you make a sound of agreement. Aziraphale laughs brightly, loving to torture you both a bit.

“I just want to be able to see that’s all dearest. You wouldn’t deny me the gorgeous view of you filling her up would you?” he says, voice teasing. Crowley just groans in response. Aziraphale presses a hand to your lower back, tilting you forward a little bit, exposing you more. He grips both of your arse cheeks and spreads them open. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You can let him fill you up now darling,” he says, squeezing both cheeks.

“How lovely of you to let us start having sex Azi,” you say, sarcastically. He hums in response, eyes glued to where you and Crowley connect. You let yourself sink down onto Crowleys cock, letting him stretch your pussy open blissfully. You and the demon cry out simultaneously as you bottom out, sitting fully in his lap. “Crowley, you feel so good, oh god.” Choking on a moan you brace more of your weight on him.

“For fucks sake sweetheart, your pussy always feels so good. You take me so well, yes just like that pretty little thing,” Crowley cooes. You hear the Angel behind you whimper softly at the sight. You feel Aziraphales hands grip your waist as he encourages you to start riding the demon.

“Azi, shit, shit, yes that feels so good,” you cry out, using your thighs to ride Crowley. Every time you move up and down you feel his warm cock drag against the walls of your pussy, creating friction so good you feel heated sparks shoot up through your spine. Crowley talks a big game but now a he’s a moaning, needy mess beneath you, fingers gripping your thighs tight. Aziraphale looks over your shoulder at Crowley as you ride him.

“Oh Crowley, such a pretty mess you make. Her pussy making you feel good dear boy?” he says, voice soothing. Crowley nods and lets out a groan from deep in his chest. All of a sudden there’s hands on your hips, yanking you down onto Crowleys cock, making you sit still in his lap. Your pussy clenches tight around Crowleys cock, and you gasp sharply. The demon curses in return. “My loves, I can not wait any longer. I need to be inside your sweet arse my doll, need to feel my cock caressing Crowleys,” he says, voice trembling, hands smoothing up your back.

“Yes, yes okay Azi, fill me up please, want you both.” Wiggling your hips in the Angels grasp.

“Are you ready dear?” Addressing Crowley quickly, he already has a hand pressing into the middle of your back, forcing you to bend more and you place your hands on either side on Crowleys head, staring into his snake eyes.

“Yes my Angel, please I want to feel you both,” Crowley answers, voice breathy, making steady eye contact with you. “You can do it my sweet little demon, you can take him, we’ve got you,” Crowley coos, framing your face with his hands. You whine and your eyes widen as you feel the head of the Angels thick cock press against your arse. He must’ve miracled more lube onto his cock, because the tip of his dick pops in past your rim easily. You choke on an inhale feeling a flash of stinging pain as he lets you adjust and he rubs your lower back lovingly, while he tries to keep still. Your arse so tight and warm. So slick it’s almost already too overwhelming for him. You let out a strangled whimper, already feeling the burning ache turn up a notch. The two of them whisper sweet nothings to you and massage whatever skin their hands can reach as you take deep breaths.

“Azi, please, move, fuck me,” you almost sob. The sensation pushing the edge of too much.

“Yes dear, doing such a good job, look so pretty taking both of us.” Aziraphale babbles, whispering sweet praises as he slowly fills your arse all the way up, balls pressing against your skin. He waits only a few seconds before pulling his hips back and thrusting forward again smoothly. Aziraphale starts to find a steady rhythm and the pain starts to fade into immense pleasure, making you sigh with relief. Crowley lets out a sound that must’ve been punched out of him as he feels Aziraphales cock start to drag against his through your slick and warm walls.

“Fuck! Angel, your cock feels so good against mine, hah, she’s so damn tight.” Crowley feels white hot pleasure crash over him in waves and his toes curl as he tries to thrust upwards to match a somewhat steady pace with the Angel. Aziraphales head falls back as he lets out a throaty moan.

“Heavens Crowley, you do feel unbelievable.” As they both start to move your arms give out. The sensation of being filled in both holes overwhelming to say the very least. You have to rest your chest against Crowleys and bury your face in his neck. You cry out repeatedly into his skin, letting out little ah’s as they pleasure you. You hold onto the sheets by the demons head with a death grip. He murmurs your name lowly in your ear.

“You’re such a good girl, taking us like I knew could. Your pussy is unbelievable, you love this don’t you sweetheart,” he says, hushed and quiet in your ear. You’re so blissed out you can’t respond right now, just writhing in his hold, trying to gulp down air. Crowley grips your arse tightly while Aziraphale keeps his hands on your hips. Both of them pulling and pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over. They stretch you to your limits as they both move a bit faster, finding a faster rhythm now. Never leaving you without one of their cocks filling you up.

You all listen to the wet smacking sounds of wet skin meeting wet skin lewdly. Aziraphales hooded eyes meet Crowleys and they interlace their fingers together on the left side of your hip, fucking into you almost roughly now. Your belly tightens dangerously, heat warring in your stomach. Your pussy starts to flutter around Crowleys cock and you know Aziraphale can feel it in your arse too. You get the strange pressure in your pelvis that signals you might squirt and your heart races.

“Crowley,” you whine, words pressing against his neck.

“I know sweet girl, I know, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” The demon soothes you while pressing a kiss the the side of your head. He pants in your ear as he works to keep up the rhythm Aziraphale set. Aziraphale’s been listening to the demon whisper into your ear and he bites the inside of his cheek, his heart warming at the sight of the two of you. It makes his cock throb as he locks eyes with Crowley.

“She’s gonna cum Angel,” Crowley warns, Aziraphale taking the chance to brace one hand on your upper back, pushing you down into Crowleys chest. He’s still holding Crowleys hand. He breathes heavily as he moves his hips, fucking into your sweet spot through you arse in long, fast strokes.

“I know my love,” he breaks off, groaning. “I-I’m afraid I’m getting close as well. Her arse is just too tight and with the way you feel against me, I won’t last much longer,” he says, whiny edge to his voice. Crowley nods and wraps his free arm around your waist, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve been trying not to c-cum this whole time,” Crowley replies, breathless laughter ringing out as he fucks up into you harder. Just like that you wrap your arms around the demons neck, wanting to be even closer to him as the coil in your belly releases. The unbearably warm pleasure of your orgasm gushes through your limbs, feeling like warm caramel. Your body tenses as you sob into Crowleys neck. Your pussy and your arse clenching suffocatingly so around the cocks currently working you through your climax.

“Oh, oh, hah, so good, pretty girl, doing such a good job, making me cum with your sweet arse,” the Angel spews, words spilling out of him, unable to stop. His hips stutter before he’s pressed all the way in, balls tightening and he starts to cum, filling your arse with sticky, warm release.

Crowleys able to watch as the Angels face twists with pleasure, eyebrows scrunching and his mouth falling open into an o shape. Cheeks flushed pink as his eyes fall shut. He squeezes the demons fingers and your arse with the other hand.

“You’re both so pretty when you cum, fucks sake, it’s not fair,” Crowleys whines, moving his hips harder as Aziraphale holds you still. You’re only able to relax for a few seconds before they hear you suddenly gasp.

“Azi, Crowley! I’m gonna squirt!” You cry out, tone frantic, feeling panicked as you cum for a second time. You squeeze around them both. Aziraphale cries out at the overstimulation and Crowley throws his head back onto the pillow and moans through his teeth. Your body trembles and you hang onto Crowleys shoulders for dear life and pleasure sparks through you again, only this time the pressure in your pelvis releases and you feel yourself squirt all over the demons belly and pelvis, Aziraphale can feel it on his balls, making him shiver. You let out a muffled scream into Crowleys shoulder.

The feeling of you squirting and watching the Angels face as he cums, it shoves Crowley off the edge. Not push, it brutally shoves him. He lets go of Aziraphales hand and presses his palm to the back of your head, tucking your face into his neck as he starts to cum. His other arm squeezes your waist even tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit.” Crowley cries out, cumming hard. Harder than he expected and he swears his vision whites out and his ears start ringing as he lazily thrusts his hips upwards. He feels like he’s been bathed in sunlight, blood buzzing. Aziraphale groans through his teeth as he feels Crowleys warm cum through the thin layer separating them, the demons dick throbbing in your pussy.

Your body shakes from the overstimulation where you lay on Crowleys chest. You all take deep breaths as you feel the Angels sweaty forehead on your back. After giving everyone a moment to return to their bodies, Aziraphale pulls out first. He does so slowly, knowing him being in your arse is a big cause of the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling. You whimper softly as his softening dick slips out of you and he flops down on one side of Crowley. You twist your head to look into his blue eyes as Crowley releases you from his iron grip.

“Are you alright my sweet doll?” Aziraphale prods gently, brushing hair off your forehead, as he noticed some of your hair falling out of the bun you put it in earlier. You nod your head.

“Yes, yeah I’m okay, I just feel exhausted.” You smile goofily. He presses a kiss to your forehead and your lips. You hum appreciatively and kiss him in return briefly. You two share a sweet, loving look. You lean back a little so you can look into Crowleys eyes, wanting to check on him.

His cheeks are flushed but his eyes are closed. You and Aziraphale glance at one another and you giggle. Aziraphale props himself up on one elbow to see the demons face. You lean down to kiss each one of Crowleys cheeks and he mumbles incoherently before opening his eyes. “Are you back in the land of living Crowley?” You ask teasingly as you brush your noses together in an intimate gesture, giving the demon butterflies.

“Barely,” he responds with one word, making you and the Angel laugh. Crowley grips the bottoms of your thighs and pulls you up his waist a little bit, letting his cock slip out of you. You wiggle uncomfortably as you feel their releases now start to drip out of both your holes. Not to mention the mess you made of Crowleys belly.

“Can one of you miracle away this mess please?” you request.

“I’ve got it my love,” Aziraphale responds, voice sweet and he waves his hand once, making the mess you all created disappear. You all but purr against Crowleys chest in return.

“Thanks Angel,” you say happily. “Should we make Crowley sleep in the middle tonight?” you ask Aziraphale, who hums thoughtfully in response. Crowley cuts in.

“No no, you two are like heaters, I’ll sweat to death if I sleep in the middle.” You slide off the demons chest and you lay on his other side, feeling sore all over.

“Nope too late, you’re sleeping in the middle, right Angel?” you ask, slipping an arm around his waist, resting your head on his chest. Aziraphale giggles. He sits up to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulls it up covering all three of you. Laying down he wraps his own arm around the demons waist as well, rubbing your forearm softly.

“Crowley you can’t say no, you’ve been gone all week dear. Give us this one thing.” The Angel replies, cheekily. Crowley turns his head to glare at Aziraphale who takes the chance to kiss him, pressing their lips together sweetly. Truthfully, Crowley really can’t say no to either of you.

“Fine! Fine, but only tonight,” Crowley relents, pulling away from the kiss. You use a finger to turn his head by his chin. You kiss the demon as well. Crowley moans softly at the feeling. You pull back and lock eyes with your Angel, who smiles at you both with a look that says he’s in love.

“Come here, kiss me sweet girl,” he whispers. You can’t help but lean over Crowley to kiss Aziraphale just as eagerly.

“Oi, oi! No kissing over me, I don’t have the energy for another round right now.” Crowley says, pouting. You and Aziraphale part, nuzzling noses for a second before each laying back down on your respective sides of Crowley. You all snuggle up closely.

“Welcome home Crowley, I love you both,” you whisper, happily as someone snaps their fingers and the light shuts off, blanketing you all in darkness. You feel the demons arm snake under you and curl around your waist and the Angel tangles your fingers together, letting them rest on Crowleys belly. They both whisper I love you in return. Your heart feels full as you no longer lay in an incomplete bed.

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens season 1 #good omens smut #crowley x aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #crowley smut #aziraphale x reader #david tennant #michael sheen #aziraphale x reader x crowley #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers

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hungharrington · 1 year ago

Note

The NEED to tease stevie with your boobs though 😩😭 like anything, anywhere. Not wearing a bra on a hot summer day so he’ll see your nipples when they pebble in the breeze, driving home and randomly taking your shirt off to distract him, wearing tiny tiny bikini tops to swim in his pool, acting concerned and asking him if one’s bigger than the other and tbfh he’s not even listening. Just driving that boy crazy with your tits 😌

hehe thank u for the ask nonnie!! i’m dubbing this… menace!reader…. bcos that’s what u are, u little minx <3 afab!reader, MDNI this entire blog is 18+ but also no smut in this one!

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You pretend to consider his question thoughtfully, humming as you drop your chin into your palm. The car rumbles beneath you. You’re sure your grin is nothing short of a cheshire grin.

“Don’t know what you mean, Stevie.”

Steve manages a glare between his glances at the road, out the windshield. It’s quiet out on the road, a stretch of burning hot asphalt stretching out before you. Hawkins Pool is entirely too crowded today. Naturally, you and Steve have decided on heading further out to cool off beneath the climbing spring-time temperatures.

It also means you’re wearing barely anything to combat the heat.

“Shut up,” Steve scoffs. He takes his eyes off the road to look you up and down again. His eyes get stuck on your chest, staring at you tight tank-top that does little to cover the cherry red bikini beneath it. It looks like it pains him to drag his eyes back to the road.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

His hand reaches out, fingers curling around your thigh. He gives it a quick squeeze, chiding and eager all at once.

“Mmm,” You hum again, covering his hand with your own. You give it a little pat and then lean over to wind the window down, twisting the handle once, twice.

Wind rushes in, still cooler than the inside of the car which had been slowing heating sitting in Steve’s driveway all morning. The chill coats your skin, a flush of cool air sending a shiver over your body— you feel your nipples pebble in response.

It’s comical, watching Steve’s hair muss up as his gaze flicks rapidly between the road and the passenger seat. He sputters.

“That’s not— you are-” He cuts himself off with a throaty growl, eyes fixed on the road as he shifts across the car. His large hand moves from your thighs to clutches the knob and you watch as his bicep bulges gloriously, pumping the window handle to close it.

It closes much faster at his hand, closing with a hiss, than it did opening at yours. Muscles and all. You drool a little.

“—Unbelievable. You are unbelievable.” He finishes. The heat of his words is lost when he glances down at your tits once again. There’s this adorable pink in the apples of his cheeks.

Something in you gleans at how easy he is to rile up. You smile.

“Fine, no window.” You concede.

You slip your arm under the seatbelt and get a good grip on the fabric bunched around your waist. Steve manages a quiet What are you—? before it dissolves into an Oh my god as you pull the shirt off. It’s thin enough that it barely makes a difference in the heat but you make a show of it anyways.

“Whew,” You slip back beneath your seatbelt and fan yourself dramatically. “That’s much better.”

Steve’s hand on your thigh tightens. You hear how hard his head smack back against the headrest, even if it is smothered by his loud groan. You can’t tell if it’s in complaint or appreciation. Probably both.

“You can’t wait?” He whines, his fingers squeezing your flesh a little. “We’re like, 5 miles out. I can deal with you then, I promise.”

He steals a glimpse your way and can’t resist another look down at your chest. Keeping most of his focus on driving straight, a bit of it slips away as his hand moves to fiddle with the string of your bikini.

“This is a nice one.” He says, far too nice for how much you’ve been teasing him. Too bad you’re not feeling merciful.

“Thanks baby,” you murmur slyly. Your hand creeps up and dusts over his, heading for the knot at the back of your neck. It only takes one well targeted tug for the knot to release the strings and at the same time, the car swerves an inch, and Steve’s hand jumps up to grab them. It’s a miracle — or maybe he’s a well coordinated jock — but he manages to wrangle both of them and the car. A giggle pushes past your lips.

“Oh my God, I never thought I’d say this,” Steve says, releasing the strings to grasp both hands on the steering wheel very tightly. The bikini falls. Steve looks like he might be in pain, glancing out the drivers side window, his bottom lip trapped in his teeth. “But please put your boobs away.”

You giggle again, even as you gather the straps and re-tie it, not too keen on being exposed as it is. Regardless, it seems entirely worth it for Steve’s flushed face and his shifting hips. His swimming trunks hide… nothing. Finally, only when you’re shucked your shirt back on, tugging it down to cover your tummy, does Steve glance back at you.

His glorious pink face hadn’t faded but he has this grin that promises all sort of trouble, mixing with his fondness for you. “Y’know, I think you really are tryna kill me.”

“Death by boobs?”

“Hey,” Steve grins. “There are worse ways to go.”

#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #do we likeeeeee?#wrote it in like an hour so! we’ll see!#it’s finally getting warm where i live hallelujah

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vanfleeter · 2 months ago

Text

Let It Be Me - A Jake Blurb

Summary: Grief hits at the most random of times and Jake just needs a little comfort.

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ || Angst. Grief. Crying. Mentions of passed loved one. Fluff. Kissing. Cuddling. (no editing, apologies for any mistakes)

A/N: I wrote this on the anniversary of a couple friends' passing and I just needed to write it out. But to whoever reads this and you may be in the same shoes, I want you to know that grieving is okay and healthy (though it may seem the opposite), and you when you think you have no one to run to, just know that I am here, and you will always have someone to turn to. 🤍

A/N 2: I don't normally do tags for blurbs, so if you see it, you see it 😉

Usually hearing from Jake around this time when he gets home from work, you found it odd when a text never came through. Or even a phone call. So you thought you’d reach yourself. But when your texts go unanswered and your phone calls are sent to his voice message box, you gather up your things and get in your car and drive off to his house.

His car sits in the driveway and you can see the lights are all off in the house. Climbing out of your car, you walk up to the front door and try to twist the knob, only to find it locked. Picking through the few keys on your ring, you find his key and slowly unlock the door before letting yourself in. It was eerily quiet, something that was unusual for him. At the very least he’d have some kind of music playing but there was nothing but silence.

Slipping off your shoes and setting your things on the foyer table, you climb the stairs to the second floor and trudge down the hallway to his bedroom. The door is slightly cracked open and you peer inside to see the form of his body curled up on the bed with the covers drawn over him completely.

Padding quietly over to the bed, you gently sit down by his feet and rest your hand on where his ankle is resting. “Jake?” You only grunt and grumble before he twists his body and pulls his ankle away from you.

“Jake..” You crawl across the bed and sit on the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” You can see the blanket move as he shakes his head, followed by a sniffle. “Okay..” I breathe as you shift your body to lay down beside him.

You hadn't realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up finding Jake curled around your body. You can tell that he’s awake when you feel his chest shake as he sniffles, trying to fight off the urge to cry. Turning over to face him, you look up at him and he’s already looking down at you. You give him a small smile as you rest your hand on his cheek. His chin quivers and his eyes gloss over with tears.

“You’re okay..” You whisper.

He shakes his head and you immediately pull him into you as he starts to cry. You still didn't know what was going on or what even happened to prompt this but all that you did know was that he needed comfort and you’d be happy to provide it.

“Just having one of those days?” You ask. You feel him nod his head and you rest your hand against his hair and lightly stroke your fingers through his locks. “I love you..” He didn't answer with any words, just simply squeezed you tighter and kissed your shoulder.

Soon he pulls away and rests against the pillows, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “I was doing fine.. And then something happened that reminded me of him and then it all came crashing back. I’ve been doing okay, or so I thought I was..”

“It’s okay when grief comes and goes. Grief never truly goes away, Jake, but that’s what makes us human–as sucky as that sounds.. It’s still new to you, but eventually it won't hurt as much as time goes on. You’ll be able to see things that remind you of him and instead of feeling heavy, you’ll smile.”

“I just wish it never happened, you know?”

“Oh I know,” You say as you reach your hand over to brush your thumb over his cheek. “There’s a lot of things we wish never happened, but we're only human, we can’t control everything.”

“I don't know what I would do without you,” He says as he turns his head to look at you. “How did you even know to come here?”

“You didn't call or text me like you normally do when you get home from work..”

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping him. “I guess I didn't want to drag you down with me..”

“You can always do that, Jake,” You say as you lean down to kiss his cheek. “You know that I would drop everything to help out.”

“I know you would,” He says. “And that’s what I love about you.”

“That can't be the only thing,” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Only because you were speaking so absurdly.”

“There's a lot I love about you.” He says as rolls on top of you, his body weight pinning you to the bed. “I love how kind you are,” He says, kissing you. “I love how snarky you can be,” You giggle and he laughs. “I love how you stay by my side even when I don’t want anyone around. I don’t know what I do without you, because you are my person, my best friend, and overall the love of my life. I don't know if I say it often but I’ll try to because I do love you. I’ve lost enough people and I’ve realized that I never told them how often I loved them, but I won't let that happen with you.”

“Whenever you need someone, let it be me.”

He smiles and kisses you again. “And if you're not available?”

“I will always make myself available for you. Through hell or high waters, I will come to you. Even if you just need me to hold your hand, I will be there to do it.” You run a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “Are you busy the rest of the day?” When he shakes his head, you smile. “Want to have a movie marathon?”

“Which movies?”

“Anything you want to watch,” You say. “Even if it’s Lord of The Rings.”

Jake smiles and rolls off you before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing the remote. He hands it to you before snuggling up against you and resting his head on your shoulder. “You pick,” He says. He drapes his arm over your waist and pushes even closer to your body. “I just want to be here with you.”

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf #jake kiszka angst

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slutforwwewomen · 21 days ago

Text

Fantasy (Ghostface)

Part One.

LivMorgan X Fem!Reader X RheaRipley

Warnings - Mentions of blood, knife’s, all that stuff. you can’t watch horror movies, then I’d suggest not to read this. Eventual smut at some point.

Summary - Weird things have been happening lately. You keep getting calls from unknown numbers, every time you answer it, there’s just heavy breathing. Until finally, they speak up.

___________________________

Murder.

That’s what is happening in my small town. As long as I’ve lived here, I’ve never known of anything like this to happen.

Maybe a few robberies here and there, but nothing like this.

What makes this even worse is that I’ve been receiving calls from these unknown numbers. Heavy breathing and sometimes this…low pitched growl noise.

I’ve been wondering if this could be the killer, but I always come to a point where I believe it’s just some kids prank calling, trying to scare others.

I work morning shift at my job, meaning I get off later during the day. I work at the diner owned by my mom and dad. I’ve always been here with them, so I know pretty much all of our customers.

Except for the few drunken truck drivers who pass through here and there.

As my shift ends, I tell my parents goodnight and I clock out. I walk outside to my car, get in and go to crank it up.

But...

It wasn't starting.

"Shit!" | screamed.

All I wanted was to go home and get some sleep.

Tomorrow is halloween. So the diners gonna be busy and I have to fix up some of the decorations out front.

I pull my phone out, seeing if I can call a taxi to come and get me.

I get a call.

"UNKNOWN NUMBER" again..

"Hello?" I say aloud.

No response. Only loud, heavy breathing.

The deep breathing was the only response I was getting. No words, no hello, no greeting...Just the breathing.

“Hello?” I say again.

“You know... you're not supposed to answer calls at this hour..” A voice finally speaks up. Its deep. Raspy.

“Who is this?” I ask.

“No no.. I ask the questions.” The person says to me.

The voice chuckled a bit, before clearing their throat. “Do you like scary movies, Lorelei?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Nuh uh, answer the fucking question bitch.” The voice says to me.

“No- What? Why does it-Just..please stop calling me!” I hang up.

My heart dropped. What the fuck was that.

I try my car one more time.

It finally cranks.

I don’t think I’ve ever drove home faster. As soon as I stepped in the door, I slammed it shut and made sure to lock it. I went around, checking my windows and doors..making sure no one could open them.

I was scared shitless.

I sit down on my couch, trying to calm myself down.

“It’s just a prank, that’s all.” I said to myself, breathing in and out.

After about 15 minutes of repeating this and breathing in and out, I go upstairs to my bedroom. Ready to wash this day away.

I grab my clothes, and walk to my bathroom.

I shut the door behind me, making sure to lock it as I was still paranoid, and placed my clothes on the sink. I turn the water on in the shower, steam immediately beginning to fill the air. I get undressed and step in.

I begin washing my hair, but suddenly I hear the bathroom door knob wiggling as if someone is attempting to open it.

I shrugged it off, thinking it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

But it happens again.

This time, I stick my head out, watching the doorknob rattle.

I turn the water off slowly.

Suddenly, loud banging on the door begins.

I scream but cover my mouth immediately, as if the person doesn’t know I’m in here.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” This person speaks out behind the door.

I look at the counter, my phone not there as I left it in the bedroom.

“Shit!” I scream.

“Ahhh there you are.” Says the person.

The banging and rattling begins again.

I rush out of the shower. Grabbing my clothes and throwing them on.

I was not about to die naked.

“Open the door. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come on..I just want to have a little fun, yeah?”

Holding back tears, I run and stand on my toilet, trying to open the window that sits above it.

My heart rapidly beating, palms becoming sweaty. Filled with instant panic, fear for my life.

I finally get it open, but the only thing is, I’m on the second floor.

Suddenly the door is broken down, a tall black figure rushing at me with a knife.

I decide to take the risk, I jump out of the window. Landing on the patch of grass next to my driveway.

The land twisted my knee but I can’t stop due to that. I get up and run as fast as I can to a nearby house, banging on the door.

“PLEASE HELP, THERES SOMEONE AFTER ME! HELLO? PLEASE!!!” I scream whilst banging on the door.

The door opens up, an older lady asking me if I’m alright.

I beg her to call the cops, too tell them someone’s in my house, and she does just so.

She sat me on her couch, wet and all. She gives me a towel and a blanket, telling me the cops should be arriving soon.

Small Time Jump!

After arriving at the hospital, the nurses put me in a room. Checking me out to make sure I’m okay, also checking my knee to see what happened. When the nurses are done, the cops follow in after them.

The cops sit down, now asking me questions about what happened exactly.

I tell them everything I knew. Including the calls I thought may have been random kids.

After about an hour of talking with the cops, they leave me be.

Sometime after, my mom and dad came in.

She ran into my arms, tears immediately falling from both of our eyes.

Everything felt okay at the moment.

“Baby I’m so glad you’re okay.” My mom says.

My dad following behind her. “Me too.” He too comes up to me and hugs me.

“I was so scared..” I speak up, my voice slightly raspy due to my screaming.

“You’ll be okay baby. You’re a strong girl.” My mom caresses my face with her hand.

I nod my head.

“Are you hungry?” My dad asks. “I can run to the diner and make you something?”

“Uhm- Yeah. I am. Thank you, dad.” I smile at him.

He nods to me and then walks out.

“I’m gonna go find a restroom, hunny. I’ll be right back, okay?”

I smile at my mom and nod in affirmation.

After my mom walked out, the nurse followed in after her. “Your mom’s on the line.”

My mom?

It was probably my dad, using mom’s phone.

I pick the phone up. “Hello? Dad?” I ask.

A deep voice responds. “Guess again.”

No.

Oh god.

“What do you want from me..” I ask, tears once again forming in my eyes.

“All I want is for you to answer my questions. Can you do that?

“You’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” I question.

“That all depends on your answers.” The person says. “Tell me, Lorelei..Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm”

“What’s your favorite..scary movie?”

I answer, holding back my tears and sobs. “I- It’s..The Exorcist.”

The killer lets out a slight laugh. “Good pick.” They say.

“I’ll start you off on some easy questions okay? Let’s say a…practice round, yeah?”

“Okay.” I mumble out.

“Friday the 13th. How did Jason die?”

“I- he uhm…I don’t-..” I get cut off.

“Oh come on..don’t say you don’t know? Think, Lori.”

“Drowned. He drowned!” I say.

“Ding ding ding! Correct!”

“Just a couple more..When did the original IT movie come out?

“1990! I know this one!” I say. Getting a bit more confident in myself.

“Mhm, good job, alright.. last one, What is the song played at the beginning of Halloween II?”

“Mr Sandman! Yes, I know this one!” I scream slightly.

“Wow! Someone knows their stuff…” The person says.

“I won right?! Did I win?” I ask.

“Oh no no..that was just the practice round, remember?”

“Time for the real round. What item did Nancy pull out of her dream in Nightmare of Elm Street?”

“What? I- how am I supposed to know this? I don’t..”

“Don’t leave me hanging Lori! Come on…I’m sure you know it.”

“I don’t- I’ve never seen that movie! Please.”

“What’s the answer lori?”

“I don’t know!”

“Is that your final answer?”

“I- fuck!” I hang up the phone.

I get up off the hospital bed and try to run to the hallway, but suddenly I’m grabbed.

“You hung up in my face Lorelei! That’s not very nice…”

The killer grabs my face, shoving a rag in my face.

One second I’m awake.

The next, I’m not.

A/N - Hi again! This is only part one to the story, if it seems a bit rushed, that’s cause it is. I wrote this quickly, just to see and get a feel of what I really wanted. I promise part two will be much much better!

#rhea ripley #smut #wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #fanfic #judgment day #liv morgan #wwe fanfiction #ghostface #rhea ripley wwe #rhea ripley smut #liv morgan wwe #livmorgansmut #fluff

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thetistaboveall · 6 months ago

Text

Glen’s Not Home

“Glen is not home” I bellow loudly down his low lit overly drawn hallway my echo calls back with his voice bounces through the hell wall to wall.

“I am going to the red carpet premiere of his new movie and you see Glen you are not in the driver seat any longer.” I continue on.

“Time to hit the showers.” I say walking to the mirror as I slowly undress my robe in a strange attempt to seduce myself I don’t know what’s happening.

“No! You can’t do this to me.” I bellow with laughter.

“Hello? Answer me!” He screams back.

“God damn you!” His temper rages on as he is pounding on the glass mirror.

“Sorry! Wi-fi off”

“You can hear me”

“Fuck off! I am out “

“Get back here “

“You smell dude”

“Leave my body “

The many hours roll back finally I walk from his bedroom in his crisp suit down the stair case in to the main hall room with such a hot second.

My pep in step picks up so excitingly as I hit the door grasping the door knob as I exit on to the front step and the limo awaits me or him.

I place my sun shades on the bridge of his skinny as face looking so damn stunning in this sexy outfit as well and remove my cell phone from the pocket.

The limo driver exist the car door walking his ass to the back of the limo opening the door for me as I walk in and he slips back in to the front seat.

We begin to drive off as I imagine us hitting the event as I watch the passerby men and women living their lives as I begin a new one in his shoes.

I can see the real Glen in the driver seat side mirror his facial expression fueling me with a look of death as if he could harm at any given moment.

The red carpet is buzzing as my limo sliding in to the area it parks as my driver gets to work letting me out as I stand up to his full height.

The world seems so different now the air is active so breezy swirling all over him his dry straight blond hair covers me putting it out of place.

I dig my hand in to his air using my hand to swoop his hair back leaving it pitch perfect as I smile my white teeth shine gleaming on the camera.

I begin my descent down the red carpet in that silky black suit with bow tie as I am so damn fine taking hot poses as I swing to the side.

Back to the forth I do a bit of dancing to the red carpet using my hands to do a winning side and I can’t believe how much love I am getting.

A few women manage to jump over the line on to the carpet racing towards me one is hopping on to me the rest follow me, hug me, kissing me and I am going insane.

“Ok ok! Ladies but I have to go “

“Guys don’t be so rough”

“Mr. Powell! I have a few questions “

“What was so different about this film?”

“I have never felt more alive “

“I was absolutely buzzing”

“I mean look at me”

“Ahahahaha”

“This ass too “

“You are embarrassing me”

“Co-opting my life”

“I have to go”

“What is your deal?”

“You stole my life “

“It is my lifestyle “

“Fuck off!”

“Babe! Cool down”

“I own you now! Get use to it”

The movie ends as I stood up to a powerful resounding applause coming my way as I wave at them demanding more attentionfrom me.

I smile walking out I take a look at two of my co-stars one male and one female winking at their way I smirk and nod my head to the bathroom.

This exclusive hotel area as I push the door behind me as they follow me in and lock the door behind them and I can feel his hands on mine.

Glen’s cock stirs as he horrified at my many actions of the night including flipping him on to his back as I pinned him down to the wall and hold him down.

He is so happy smiling back at him as I lean in a bit kissing him slowly yanking him hard as he presses on me and he starts to kiss past my neck.

I swing her to my side then to the wall my lips are in overdrive kissing her as I kiss a map to her collar bone and I can feel her moan in pleasure.

I unlock the door grabbing my hand in both of theirs as they guide me back to the celeb private area of the hotel sending my nerves in to the senses.

We press the elevator bell shifting the door to the side as we trend on as the door close the elevator shoots upward and they wrap arms over me.

Shoving me back they shift hands all on to my body moving, spreading as all hands are on deck. What a feeling to have four hands wickedly tempting.

The door pops open letting me off on to the side floor as we flow to my hotel room and I struggle to find the keys backs to the door a thrilling moment.

Our hearts are palpitating extremely like a drum a fierce sound of a rock band between us because we are madly in love consuming him entirely.

I can see Glen appear on in the mirror of the hotel room follow my movements as I lead them to bedroom and make my way to the mirror winking at my reflection.

“You can’t live my life forever “

“Oh can’t I?”

“People will notice “

“You believe that don’t you ?”

“Fools paradise”

“Well a soul and fool will be soon a pardoned”

“Far from the saying “

“Get a life “

“I have one…you are living it”

“You are such a pretty boy”

“I wish”

“Time to mess you up “

“Now! If you excuse me”

“Tomorrow I will fight you “

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are too damn weak”

“My life and my body “

“Why don’t you accept it bitch?”

One last wink, a clink to his fingers and Glen vanishes forever.

The end

#glen powell #red carpet #ghost #male body possession #possession #mind corruption #mind conditioning #mind control #transformation

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 months ago

Text

Perdition

CW: None, really, other than someone eating pizza... badly. Oh, and some brief references to the FLDS cult.

“All right,” Vanessa said, leaning over her drink and giving Anaya a fixed stare across the table. “Explain.”

Down the hall, the shower ran. Eden looked back over his shoulder, thinking about how he’d had to show the kid how to turn the knob from cold to hot, and the boy’s absolute shock when he’d felt hot water hit his palms, stinging the scrape there.

The kid hadn’t even flinched fully back, just turned to Eden with those strange golden eyes so wide.

It comes out hot?

Eden had been thinking, ever since, about how it would feel to only have experienced cold showers your entire life. Assuming there had even been showers. He was starting to think maybe Misae had been hosed down in the yard.

Like a dog covered in mud.

Like a wolf.

He rubbed at his temples, a headache threatening. His brain kept trying to cycle back to the sight of the skinny young reddish-brown wolf racing through their camp, the bloodied wound in its back leg - and then shifting to Misae, naked with his leg bleeding, curled up under their car trying to hide from the man hunting him.

He couldn’t reconcile the two creatures as the same, in two different shapes. Anaya, apparently, could just believe in werewolves in a flash, a split-second reorienting of their entire conception of reality not even bothering her at all.

It wasn’t so easy for him.

“What do you mean?” Naya asked, her eyes on the window behind Vanessa. "Explain what?" The little black cat from earlier had shown back up and was sitting just outside the window, watching them, blinking yellow eyes in slow, wordless communication.

Vanessa had said it wasn’t her cat. It supposedly belonged to an elderly neighbor. Eden wasn’t so sure the cat agreed with that assertion.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” Vanessa said, sipping the apple cider-whiskey-and-lemon-fizzy-water concoction she’d made and offered to them both. Anaya had taken her up on it, but Eden had begged for something as simple as a beer.

He’d ended up with something ostentatiously draped in chocolate and peanut butter that was pretending to be a stout, but fuck it - it was still beer. Beer that tastes like a peanut butter cup, sure, but beer.

“No, I know, I know you’re not, it’s just-... it’s kind of a weird subject for him-”

“Is he a Lost Boy?” Vanessa’s tone was flat now.

Eden and Anaya shared a look. Eden raised his eyebrows. Anaya shrugged, then turned back to Vanessa. “I don’t know what that means, Ness. I know Lost Boys is a Peter Pan thing, but-”

“Man.” Vanessa laughed, open and easy. “You never watched any of those documentaries I told you to watch, did you?”

Anaya flushed.

Eden snorted. “Well, if you told her to watch them, I guarantee she didn’t. Number one way to keep Naya from doing something is to tell her she has to do it.”

“Hey!” Anaya swatted at his arm, and he grinned at her, batting his eyelashes until she broke back down into giggles. “That’s not fair. You do it, too.”

“I know I do, but we’re not talking about me, are we?” He held up his beer as if making a toast. “Talkin’ about you, baby.”

“I hate you,” Anaya said, and leaned over to steal a kiss.

“Gross,” Vanessa said, sounding utterly unbothered. “This is why I don’t have roommates, you know. So nobody has to see kissing.”

“You never kiss anybody here?” Anaya blinked, looking around. “But your house is so cute!”

“Number one - thank you, I worked really hard on the piece of crap falling down shack I bought six years ago, so I appreciate that. Number two… No. This house is my sanctuary, baby girl, nobody ever crosses this doorway who might think they have a claim on it if they do. And number three… Lost Boys are named after the Peter Pan story, yeah, but it’s… okay. Uh. How do I start… So you remember I grew up in Cedar City, in Utah?”

“Nope.”

“We talked about our childhoods like six times, Naya.”

Anaya winced. “Sorry. My memory is swiss cheese on a good day-”

Vanessa waved her hand. “Honestly, that’s fine. I’m just as bad, I can’t judge. So, not super far from Cedar City, you run into these… people. I was raised Mormon, not that it stuck-” She lifted up the cocktail she’d made for herself and shook it until the ice clinked against the side of the glass. “As you can see. My mom is still absolutely convinced I’m coming back to it, but that’s just Mom being her usual optimistic self. Anyway, not relevant. There’s this offshoot group near us, and they call themselves FLDS, but they’re about as Mormon as a sack of hammers. They’re pretty much flat out a weird sex cult run by old men who choose dozens of women to marry. That’s the Cliff’s Notes, it’s actually much grosser than that. But, uh, when there’s a dozen men that marry a dozen women each…”

Eden wrinkled his nose. “There can’t possibly be enough women to make that work.”

“There aren’t. Nice catch. Or, rather, there’s too many men. So they kick the teenage boys out. They come up with some kind of story, some excuse for it. One boy I met watched a VHS tape of Fern Gully in secret but made the mistake of telling his brother, who told on him. One was overheard telling a girl he thought she was pretty when she was already set to marry somebody’s grandpa. Another said all they told him was that he seemed kind of lazy at the worksite last Thursday. One poor kid just had the absolute freaking audacity to not even notice the girls at all, they decided that meant he was looking at the boys instead. Doesn’t matter. They kick them out, dump them on a road with a backpack - if they're lucky they get a backpack - and tell the boys good riddance, don’t come back. They don't have any documentation, they don't have any idea how to live in the modern world. Most of them have never even handled money themselves. Sometimes you’ll hear them called the Sons of Perdition? Ringing any bells?”

Anaya frowned, looking at Eden. He shrugged back at her. “Sounds sort of familiar,” Anaya said slowly. “Like maybe I saw something on the news.”

The shower turned off. All three of them went briefly quiet, as they heard the bathroom door open and close, followed by the guest bedroom door doing the same.

“You might have. There was a big case about it years ago, that's what the show I wanted you to watch was about. In any case, I’m telling you all of this because I thought maybe you’d picked up a Lost Boy. Sometimes, with the Lost Boys, their moms have kids who already left, or a sister or something, and they can give the boy a phone number to call. Mostly, though, they’re on their own. My mom helps them, she drives the roads some days looking for the boys and takes them to a shelter in Cedar City. When I visit back home we do it together. So, yeah. I thought maybe that’s where he could be from.”

“I… don’t think that’s it.” Eden looked down at his beer. “We found him in the woods, like… deep into the woods, and he was coming from somewhere even deeper. Actually, he found us, I guess. We saw him hiding under my car from somebody who was after him. And it didn’t seem like the plan was to bring him back alive.”

“Hence the being shot,” Vanessa said, thinking out loud.

Eden nodded. “Hence being shot.” Honestly, he liked her - she was sharp and soft at the same time. He could see why Anaya had been so sure she’d let them stay, that she’d help them out.

“Well, my first guess was wrong, then, I suppose. But there’s all kinds of survivalists hiding out in the woods. Usually just a family by themselves, or maybe a couple related families who put together a little compound. Most of them keep to themselves and tip really well when they show up in the local diners, keep some of the farm supply stores more or less in business, but sometimes you get some that are alone in the woods long enough to get…” She trailed off. "Weird."

Anaya sipped her own drink - just the cider. She’d told Eden she was worried that if she drank alcohol she’d just flat out fall asleep at the table. They were both running on nerves and caffeine by now. "Weird?” She prodded, gently.

“Odd,” Vanessa said, finally. “Paranoid. Hostile. They’re the kind of guys that think we’re all microchipped by the government, or that vaccines make you pick up cell signals. Things like that. People who sit around alone too long get really weird. Or maybe they were already weird and that’s why they went out into the woods. I mean, as long as they tip twenty percent on a decent meal, they can live however they want in my book, but not if they're trying to cover up abuse, or something. If that’s where this kid comes from, well. There might not be anybody he can easily go to, relatives-wise."

Eden thought of Misae's scars. "... I think abuse was pretty much a given. You don't shoot at someone who's running from you if you're a good place to grow up."

"Yeah. Poor kid." The timer over the oven beeped, and Vanessa pushed herself to her feet. “Just a second. Hey, Strange Boy Misae!” Vanessa’s voice shifted into an effortless projection that found its way through every corner of the little bungalow of a home. “Pizza’s ready! Come eat!”

She swept herself into the kitchen, leaving Eden and Anaya briefly alone. Eden held his beer in his right hand and let his left drift, until it found Anaya’s fingertips. She smiled without looking at him and grabbed on tight.

“This was a good place to pick,” Eden admitted, reluctantly. “To find a place we can crash. You did good, baby."

“Told you so,” Anaya sing-songed, voice low and loving. “I’m always right, even when I’m not.”

“Aaaaand this moment right here is why I never admit it when you are right,” Eden said, voice dry. "Because you do that every single time." They clinked beer bottle and glass together, and kissed again. Anaya half-laughed into the kiss, making it awkward and bad and the best kiss, all at the same time.

He heard the softest scrape behind him and pulled back to see Misae hovering in the doorway, wearing Anaya’s star-sky pajama pants pulled as tight at the waist as they could go and a shirt of hers that didn’t quite meet the waistline, showing a flash of pale, scarred stomach. His hair was mussed and stuck up and out every which way. His eyes danced around the room and he moved in a way Eden could only call slinking, sticking to the wall as he eased himself slowly into the room. He limped, still, but not nearly so badly as he should have.

He shouldn’t have been able to move at all, not really, not without crutches or help.

Well, maybe teenagers who turn into wolves heal fast, Eden’s brain supplied with hysterical false calm. Didn’t he say he heals fast?

Misae’s eyes moved constantly, the whites showing around the iris as he took everything in. He crossed his arms in front of himself. Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky, sending blazing golden yellows and oranges that cast Misae in a light like reflected flames. It made his gold eyes seem to glow.

“Hey,” Eden said, his voice gentling immediately. “Feeling better? Was it a good shower?” He patted the seat next to him when the boy didn’t move.

Misae looked down at the chair, back to Eden, and then towards the kitchen. Vanessa bustled around in there.

Something fell in a crash of ceramic and Misae’s lips pulled back in a heartbeat, baring teeth that weren’t as flat in the canines as they should have been, snarling even as he hunched into himself further, self-protective, and pushed himself back against the wall. Eden could damn near see his ears suddenly tipped in fur, elongating, pushed back against his head. Was he getting shorter?

“Everything’s fine!” Vanessa called out before anyone could ask. “Just a second! Everything’s totally good!”

Misae’s teeth were sharp enough to crunch bone now. Eden couldn’t deny it - he was watching the boy begin to turn. He wasn’t getting shorter, he was shifting from bipedal to something that had to stand on all fours. Eden swallowed, hard, his heart beating so fast it made him vaguely breathless.

"Holy shit," Anaya breathed, next to him. Her grip on Eden's hand went tight enough to hurt, squeezing his bones together. He wondered, in a kind of wild irrational flight of fancy, if Misae's bones hurt right now, changing shape in everything from fingers to spine. "Misae, honey-... sweetie-"

“Come sit,” Eden said, keeping his voice low. “Everything’s okay, Misae. She’s a good person, she won’t hurt you. I promise. Even if she tries, we'll keep you safe, I swear. Just sit down next to me, okay?”

Misae blinked, and the sense of something not-quite-human was gone in a heartbeat. No monster here, it was only a frightened teenage boy who limped carefully to the chair next to Eden.

Eden decided not to think about what he’d seen any longer. Not even a little bit. Not even for a second. He locked that up in a box inside his head marked LATER. Or maybe NEVER.

Misae sat down like he’d never been in a chair before, lowering himself carefully as if he thought it might bite him. He sighed in something like contentment when he finally settled. “This good?” He asked, chin down but looking up through his eyelashes.

“It’s perfect. So was the shower good?” Eden asked again, just for something to say. In the window, the black cat kept watching them, eyes locked on Misae now.

Misae nodded, but he didn’t speak anymore. He… really wasn��t a talker. Most of the time, it felt like talking to a statue, a robot.

Like talking to a dog.

Maybe he never talked because nobody had ever cared to listen.

He shook that thought away just the same as he’d shaken off the last one. He’d admitted to himself, deep down, that this kid wasn’t completely human and he'd clearly come from somewhere awful, but he needed at least one good night of sleep to be able to fully grasp it.

Or maybe he never would.

“We’re going to just chill out for a couple days,” Anaya said, leaning forward so she could talk directly to Misae around the obstruction that was Eden. “Just rest, and figure out what to do next, okay? So no worries about having to be on the move again right away. So just… think about where a safe place might be for you to go, okay? Maybe some people that could take care of you?”

Misae looked at her, tipping his head to one side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The silence drew out. Just as Anaya looked away, Misae murmured something too low to be understood.

She blinked. “What was that?”

“... I don’t know any other place,” Misae admitted, voice rough, just above a whisper. Something like a growl or a whine just at the edge. “Don’t know any other people. I only knew one place, and it isn’t safe. All my people are dead. I told you.”

Eden needed another beer.

Desperately.

Vanessa returned, smiling brightly as she held a couple plates heaped with slices of pizza, breadsticks, and tomato sauce to dip it in. “I made two pizzas. Who wants sausage and pepperoni, and who wants barbecue chicken? Oh, hey, you’re here. That shower did some good, you look like a totally different person now!”

Misae’s eyes flicked to Eden’s and then away. “Thank you," He muttered, leaning away as if wanting to hide from the attention.

Vanessa showed Misae the plates. “Dinner is served. So pick your poison, kiddo.”

Misae’s eyes widened in alarm, and he turned to look at Eden. The sound he made this time was definitely, fully, entirely a canine whine. Eden could very nearly understand him.

Don’t make me eat this.

"I've been good," Misae whispered, begged really, eyes beseeching. "Don't make me eat the poison meat. Please, Eden."

Vanessa blinked, pulling the plates back towards herself a little. “Uh… what?”

Eden cleared his throat. “It’s a joke,” He reassured Misae, reaching out to touch his shoulder, feeling the boy lean into the touch with something like ferocity, nearly pushing Eden off balance. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze and felt him shaking under his palm. Somehow he ended up with an arm around those bony, thin shoulders, pulling him close and speaking against his hair. Some of it tickled Eden's nose. “She was joking. It’s not actually poisoned. Take the sausage one, you’ll like that. I'll eat it, too, okay? So you can see it's good to eat, and nobody's going to get hurt."

“It’s not poisoned,” Anaya agreed quickly. “It's totally, completely safe. We promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

"Not helping when you say the D-I-E word, Naya," Eden murmured. Misae nosed into the crook of his neck, whining again. His stomach growled along with it, the sound as loud as a whalesong in the small dining room. Eden's own stomach growled as if in response.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Vanessa said, sounding stricken. “Oh, gosh. I really didn’t think when I said that, huh? That you wouldn't know it was a joke. I'm so so sorry. Totally normal pizza, one hundred percent not even a little bit poisoned. Just regular food for regular humans. Look, watch." Vanessa picked up a slice and took a bite herself, chewing ostentatiously. "See? Safe!"

Eden very nearly burst out laughing. Not from humor, not really, but just from a kind of exhausted hilarity he couldn't quite control.

Whatever Misae was, regular human sure wasn’t it. And his reaction to the poison joke made something in Eden hurt, absolutely certain this kid had seen some other people - or wolves - poisoned with their food before, maybe even seen them die from it.

Maybe the slaughter of his family wasn't the first time he'd had to see the ones he loved be killed right in front of him. Maybe it had been the last, instead.

Every detail made him want even more to know where this kid came from, and simultaneously want with equal desperation to never, ever know.

Misae slowly nodded, watching as the plate was set down in front of him. He didn’t move to eat, though, his eyes on Eden and Anaya as each politely asked for the type of pizza they wanted - Eden taking sausage and Anaya barbecue chicken with a side of ranch dressing, because she was occasionally an abomination. Eden loved her anyway.

It was a little harder to love her when she dipped pizza in ranch, but he did his best.

It wasn’t until Eden picked his pizza up and took a bite that Misae’s hands moved, slowly, to echo Eden’s movements. Eyes on him all the time. “Hot,” He commented, pulling his fingers back from even the slightest touch. His nose crinkled a little, which had to be maybe the weirdest, cutest expression Eden had ever seen someone make. “Hurts.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa agreed, settling back into her own seat. She slid a freshly opened beer across the table at Eden, who mouthed thank you and batted his eyelashes, watching her smile brighten in return. “Just came out of the oven. You really timed your shower perfectly. You can use a fork if you want, I promise I won’t judge.” She winked.

Misae blinked back at her, then moved one hand hesitantly to touch the silver fork at the right of the plate. He held it like a toddler who’d never seen one before, more or less just closing his fingers in a fist around it, stabbing ineffectually at the sausage until some stuck.

Anaya, Eden, and Vanessa all watched as he took a piece of sausage with a bit of steaming cheese clinging to it to his mouth, stuck it awkwardly inside, and then hissed as the heat burned his tongue. Then his eyes went wide and he chewed frantically before swallowing and all but throwing his fork at the next bite.

Misae next jammed his fork hard enough to get a huge chunk of cheese, sausage, and even a little crust to lift up this time. The plate rattled beneath his graceless enthusiasm.

He shoved the whole thing into his mouth until his cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s, chewing with effort and seeming to swallow the whole bite nearly whole.

After that, he gave up on the fork, dropping it with a clatter. He used his hands instead, gathering the remaining pizza together in a sort of lump and eating it until red sauce smeared a circle around his mouth. He made soft grunting noises as he ate, maybe sounds of contentment, curled around the plate as if protecting it from anyone else trying to grab a bite or take it from him.

Eden was the first one to find words. “He’s, uh… he’s new to pizza.”

“I’ll say,” Vanessa said, slightly faint. “This is the single most disgusting thing I have ever seen, and I cannot possibly look away.” She set her own slice of pizza slowly back down on the plate and took a drink without ever taking her eyes off of Misae’s feasting.

None of them did.

Misae finished every bite on his plate before the other three had even managed to finish a single slice - not that any of them even bothered to try now, too engrossed in the sight of a teenager eating pizza the way he might have torn into an animal carcass if he were in a nature documentary.

Misae picked up his plate and licked the bits of sauce clinging to the ceramic away. Only when he set it back down, so well cleaned it seemed like it had never had food on it at all, did he seem to realize the others weren’t eating. He swallowed, eyes dancing nervously from Vanessa to Anaya to Eden and back.

Eden picked up his slice of pizza and set it on Misae’s plate. “Here you go,” He said, voice gentle. His stomach turned over, appetite gone after the spectacle. “Go ahead and have mine, too.”

Misae licked his lips, looking uncertainly down, then nodded and tore into that piece, too.

As he did to Anaya’s barbecue chicken slice.

And Vanessa’s.

Then he drank the side of ranch straight out of the little bowl, and licked that clean, too.

Eden might never have an appetite again.

“I didn’t know anyone could eat this much pizza at once,” Anaya whispered, sounding less grossed out than just deeply, deeply impressed.

“I think he’s officially eaten a whole pizza by himself,” Vanessa half-whispered, eyes wide.

She set a breadstick down on Misae’s plate and watched him eat that, too, in three quick bites, barely chewing. “Where the hell is he going to put it all? He weighs like ninety pounds soaking wet.”

Eden closed his eyes. His headache was getting worse. He needed to sleep more than he needed literally anything else on earth. Too bad he only really slept well in the woods. Well, maybe he was so far past tired by now he could sleep anywhere at all?

“Wolves,” Eden said in a tight voice, “Can eat like twenty percent of their own body weight in a single meal. I saw that on something David Attenborough narrated once.”

“Wolves?” Vanessa asked.

The light outside was starting to dim. It’d be another night of a huge harvest moon, Eden thought. Not yet, but soon enough. He’d go outside and look at it for a while, if he could keep himself awake long enough.

Misae stared back at them, curling into himself again. He flushed, but it just blended with the red sauce around his mouth. It really did look like blood, even starting to darken as it dried.

He followed Eden’s gaze to the window, looking out at the oncoming night.

Then back at them.

“Thanks for the food,” He said, without looking up. His voice was thick. He stood so fast he knocked his chair over and then half-limped, half-ran back down the hall. The door to the guest bedroom slammed shut behind him.

Eden exhaled, slowly. “Well…”

“That,” Anaya said, shaking her head, “Was definitely something I have never seen before. And that I hope to never see again.”

“Yeah. Uh.” Vanessa stood. “I’m going to… get us all the rest of the pizzas, I guess. Assuming I can stand to even look at it now.”

Eden hummed assent and took a drink, letting the blend of bitterness, chocolate, and subtle sweet peanut butter sit on his tongue while he stared outside.

What were they going to find in the bedroom when they went back in?

A scared teenager with a stomach ache?

A wolf with bared teeth?

Or, somehow - impossibly - a creature who was both?

When he looked to the window, the black cat was still there. Still watching them, as the moon began to rise. It blinked, slowly, and Eden drained the rest of his beer.

It was going to be a long night.

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 8 months ago

Note

can we get a fic where r is a nurse or med student and she just had a terrible terrible day at work and steve just comforts her? ly <3

i know nothing about the medical world so forgive me. kinda basing this from a breakdown i had after orientation for my job then texting a friend for some help.

masterlist

silence. peace and quiet after a twenty-four hour on call shift. no beeping monitors, no patients getting angry with you, no messes to clean up; just you sitting in your car letting your brain melt. and then the tears started to sting, face pinching to withhold yourself but letting the floodgates free. your breathing was labored and your head was getting fuzzy, you hoped no one was a witness to your breakdown.

fingers death gripping onto your leather steering wheel, head falling forward and almost hitting your horn. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to take deep slow breaths, needing to steady yourself before making the thirty minute drive back to your apartment where steve was waiting for you.

steve. with his name popping into your head you reached into your bag, pulling your phone and flipping it open then pressing one to speed dial the landline. the dial tone rang twice and then you heard his voice.

“harrington residence.” just those two words from your husband lifted your sorrows for a moment, allowing you to calmly speak into the receiver. “hi honey.” a sigh of relief before a wet hiccup followed.

you could hear the concern when steve asked, “hey, you off? need me to pick you up?” already knowing you had your car with you, but also knowing you would be exhausted to drive.

you shook your head even though it wasn’t seen, “no, no. just… just wanted to see if you needed anything?” closing your eyes as the welling tears continued. “want something for lunch? was gonna stop by-“

“it’s fine, honey. i already cooked something for you. just get home safe. i love you.” and he didn’t hang up right away, waiting for you to respond back. a croaked “i love you,” then quick to press the end call button. you took deep calming breaths, five in five out, before starting the engine and cutting the radio off.

you kept to the speed limit, sometimes going three over or even five under causing people to honk and speed past you. you didn’t have the energy to care about their pissed stares, just counting the stop lights until you hit your block, rolling into the complex then pulling into your parking spot.

your bones felt like liquid as you gathered your bags and drinks, locking your car then heading up the one flight of stairs. a quick left then past three doors and you stood outside yours, number 736, a lovely floral reef circled the peep hole.

with a heavy hand you slid your key into the lock, turned the knob and was greeted to the warm lighting and laugh track blaring from the tv. the lingering smell of mac and cheese with some baked chicken and steamed veggies caused your stomach to gargle.

“hey pretty.” steve’s smooth voice slid into the hallway with you, his hands reaching out to take your load off your shoulders.

he made sure to keep your belonging organized and hang your coat on the rack. he knelt to the floor and helped tug your sneakers off your aching feet before ushering your further into the apartment to the couch.

reruns of your favorite sitcom light the room as steve leaned in to press a tender kiss on your left temple, eyes closing in contentment. “i’ll be back with our food.”

steve was gone less than five minutes and you could feel your eyes growing heavy as each second passed, head lulling to rest on the back of your couch. you smiled and chuckled low at a joke you already knew, but it still tickled you pink.

“kept it in the oven to stay warm. hope it taste good, i followed the recipe for the mac and chicken, but you know me.” steve set the two plates on the small table covering your feet. “how’s my girl doing?”

he rested a palm to your left thigh and rubbed over your scrubs comfortably. you took a deep inhale before sighing out, “draining.” the one word sufficient in summarizing everything.

steve hummed, “sorry. but luckily you’re taking the next two days off. how about we just rot in bed for one day and then be slightly adults the next day. how’s that sound?” his browns eyes darkened and shaded with the flickering light.

leaning your head onto his right shoulder and fighting sleep you yawned out, “sounds perfect.” the laugh track and commercials becoming your white noise.

#erin’s blurb requests #stever harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Girl in a Box

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍒🍒🍒

At first, you assume the tapping is a tree branch or some critter searching for a hole in the foundation. It’s too persistent, too repetitive. It scratches at the back of your head as you try to unpack. You don’t know why you bother. It’s just a weekend away. It’s good to keep busy. That way you don’t have to think about Bucky’s sour mood.

You knew it wouldn’t be like your dreams. Relationships are different. They take work. They’re imperfect but it all feels like it’s going sideways.

For a little while longer, you can excuse his moods as symptoms of his grief, of his uncertainty. Worse than losing someone is not knowing their fate. You can’t begin to imagine the toll of that. You can be patient but only so far.

Still, you don’t know if you really have the strength to cut the rope. It’s early. This is your first trip. Let it be the litmus test. Take it one day at a time and let things unfold before you jump into doom.

Taptaptap, tap-tap-tap, taptaptap.

God, that’s so annoying. You turn to stare at the wall. You round the bed and near the incessant noise. It sounds like it’s coming from inside. No, the other side.

You listen again. There’s a pattern; three fast taps, three slow, three fast, then a pause. Then it starts over.

You put your hand against the wood as the cycle repeats. You curl your fingers and press your knuckles to the wall. You knock, in that little rhythm you do at your parents place; taptap tap-tap-tap tap tap. You wait and the tap responds in kind..

You pull back and think. The next room. Steve stopped there and asked if someone was okay. It must be the girlfriend he alluded to.

Should you go check on her? Is that too much? You hate to overstep. She’s obviously trying to get your attention. Maybe you could just go get Steve.

You sway in limbo and make yourself move. You pull open the door and step into the hall. You listen to the house. You don’t hear much, a low drone but so distant it could be the wind. You think you heard the guys go outside earlier but you can’t be sure. There was just the decisive open and close of the front door.

You tiptoe down to the next door. You stop and stare at it, hesitant to knock. What if she’s sleeping and you wake her? What if it’s some trick of your mind? You linger, chewing your knuckle as you try to decide.

“Hey,” a voice wafts under the door and you look down as fingers poke through the space beneath, “hey, can you unlock the door?”

You stare down at the wiggling digits as they reach through. What the hell? You grasp the knob and jiggle it. It is locked. Why?

“What...” you pause and get down on your knees, “what’s going on? Are you with Steve?”

“Does it matter? Please, can you let me out?” She hisses.

You blink and sit back on your heels, “why is it locked?”

She sighs and retracts her fingers, “are you going to help me or are you going to keep asking questions?”

Her sharpness is jarring but you figure if you were locked in, you’d be a bit claustrophobic too. You get up and feel around the door handle. You find the mechanism on the side and flick it. The handle is backward, that should be on the inside.

The knob twists and a woman pulls it open from the other side. Before you can react, she yanks you in by your arm. She covers your mouth before you can yelp.

“Alright, we gotta play this smart,” she says, “how many cars are here?”

You grumble into her palm as your brows draw together. She squints at you and shifts her hand to press her index to your lips. She hushes you before she draws away.

“We have to get out of here,” she keeps her voice low.

“What? Why?” You sputter.

“These men are psycho.”

“N-no, Bucky’s my boyfriend?” You begin

“If he’s hanging out with Steve, he’s a piece of shit,” she hisses.

“Oh? Are you... fighting?”

“Fighting?!” She scoffs, “I’m not with him. I don’t even know where I am.”

“Huh?” You blink dumbly.

“Right, so you got the good guy. Lucky you. Well, good ole Cap has been keeping me in a cage. Dried me out good. If you wanna stay, go for it. After all, why would trust the crazy lady? I’m going--”

“But... you can’t. How--”

“I have to get out of here and if you have any sense in your head, you will too.”

“I... maybe I should get Steve...”

“Shut up,” she snarls, “don’t fucking do that. Are you kidding me?”

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t understand.”

She frowns and crosses her arms. She goes to the window and pulls the curtain back. She clucks as she turns inward again and huffs.

“Right, I’m not gonna get that far, even if I can finagle some keys off one of those fuckers. You got a phone?”

“Uh, sure, but there’s no reception.”

“Doesn’t matter, I just need the phone,” she insists. “You’ll get it back, alright?”

“Sure, guess I’m not using it,” you shrug and back up.

“Hey, hey,” she catches up to you, “please don’t blow this. I’m begging you. Just trust me, please.”

You look her in the face. She’s desperate. The more you look at her, the more concerning her appearance is. She wears only a tee shirt and there’s a dark stain on the collar. You think she might even have a few bruises. Her lips are chapped to her eyes slightly foggy.

“I won’t say anything,” you promise.

You don’t know if you should trust her but something about her plea strikes a chord. You leave her to get your phone and come back. You tell her the code to unlock it as you hand it over. She swiftly does so and starts to flick her thumb over the screen.

“Okay, right,” she nods and looks at you, “lock me in.”

“Huh?”

“He can’t know you were in here. Plan B,” she wiggles the phone at you. “I can’t run. I’m still withdrawing. I’ll pass out in some ditch. So I’ll play by the Cap’s rules. As far as you’re concerned, I’ve never seen your face in my life. So get out and lock the door.”

“But-- wait--”

She nudges you into the hall and she shuts the door, keeping the knob twisted so it doesn’t click. Slowly she turns it into place and stare at the wood. It makes no sense but you don’t need a lecture from Bucky about respect. You flip the lock back into place.

As you walk back to your room, the desolation sets in, underlining your confusion. Something isn’t right about this place. Yet, what could be wrong? Steve and Bucky are heroes. They’re the good guys, aren’t they?

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #au #drabble #sweet treats #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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matchingbatbites · 1 month ago

Text

i'm a spy, but on your side

Explicit | 3.4k | Full tags + Read on Ao3 | Divider Credit CW: Accidental voyeurism, dubious consent

Listen, Steve hadn’t meant to see it.

The music isn’t as loud as Eddie usually plays it, and there’s a comment about it already brewing in his mouth as he opens the door. Instead Steve freezes in the archway, is thoroughly held in place by the sight before him.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moans, the sound cutting though Steve’s thoughts and the music still playing. “Fucking- ah, please please please.”

Steve’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his grip almost painful as Eddie - all of him, the sight, the sound - goes straight to his dick. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing this.

He’s unable to move though, completely stuck in place as he watches the object of his desires dry hump a fucking pillow and somehow make it the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen.

He’s thankful for the cover of night as he shoves his hand into his pants and strips his cock in short, fast strokes, too desperate to wait, the image of Eddie too fresh in his mind-

He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while, one he’s refused to act on because he couldn’t tell if Eddie felt the same, if his teasing and flirting was genuine or just all jokes.

But now he knows. He saw Eddie come with Steve’s name on his lips and he knows.

It changes things, for Steve. He can’t help but treat Eddie differently after that, can’t help leaning into his space or flirting at every opportunity. More than that, he can’t stop touching Eddie, little, casual things that slip into something more intentional; a hand between his shoulder blades that slides down to rest just above his ass, reaching around him to grab something and pressing his whole front against Eddie's back.

Eddie is so responsive to everything, always shuddering under Steve's touch or turning the prettiest shade of pink at the close proximity. It's kind of funny, actually, how Eddie's never had a problem flirting with Steve before, but as soon as Steve started to reciprocate it seems like Eddie can barely string two words together to respond. It's intoxicating, and every blush and tremble and squeak only encourages Steve because they're so out of character for the metalhead.

He doesn’t tell Robin about what he witnessed, but she can see the change in him. She’s watched him flirt with enough people, can tell how this is different from the rest, and aside from a snide comment - “I need you to keep the ‘I'm gonna destroy him’ eyes to a minimum whenever I’m around, okay?” - she’s incredibly supportive.

Her support doesn’t stop her from ragging on Steve after every group hangout, or lovingly teasing him about how gone he is for Eddie. They're hanging out one day a few weeks after Steve had his world rocked, just crashed on the couch while some daytime drama plays on the TV, when she stretches a leg out to kick at Steve's thigh.

“Hey, when are you going to stop playing with Eddie and actually make a move?”

“What do you mean?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “I mean the fact that you're torturing him? Like, you know he thinks you're straight, right?”

Steve didn't know that, actually. "He told you that?" he asks, and Robin shrugs.

"He tells me things. Like the fact that he thinks you're sex on legs but he refuses to say anything because you've only dated girls before."

"That makes no sense, I've been flirting with him for weeks!"

"Yeah, well, not everyone can tell when someone is flirting with them, dingus. Especially when you're convinced that the person doing the flirting doesn't actually like you like that."

Steve hums, because yeah, that makes a lot of sense. "So I just have to tell him, then. Be blunt about it."

"And soon, preferably. I'm tired of listening to him lament over your chest hair and shit."

Everything comes to a head only a week after his conversation with Robin, about a month since the incident. Steve and Eddie had spent the evening by the pool, sharing a six pack of beer and shooting the shit, before heading up to Steve's room. There they'd continued chatting and occasionally flipping or swapping the cassette in Steve's stereo, and at some point they must have fallen asleep.

When Steve wakes up, the first thing he registers is the familiar sensation of a warm body pressed up along his front, and his arms draped around a slim waist. The next couple of things he notices all at once: the sound of soft, breathy whimpers, a pair of hands clutching at his shirt, and most importantly, the hard line of a dick rubbing against the jut of his hip.

Eddie is so close when Steve opens his eyes, their faces just inches apart as they cling together. There’s just enough light coming from the bedside lamp for Steve to see the little furrow between Eddie’s brows as he whines again, the sound so needy even in his sleep. It's all too much, too close to what Steve's been wanting for weeks. Having Eddie in his bed, in his arms, sounding so sweet…

Steve doesn’t resist the urge to slide his hands down, just palms at Eddie’s ass and uses the leverage to grind their hips together. Their dicks line up just right and Steve groans at both the pressure and the strangled sound Eddie makes.

It's better than he imagined, better than any of the fantasies he's had in the last few weeks (and the fantasies he's had even before then, too). The way Eddie's body feels pressed against him is perfection, like they were made to fit together. It makes his head swim, and Steve grinds them together a bit harder than he should.

Eddie’s eyes blink open and Steve can see the sleepy confusion in them, can hear it in his groggy “Steve?”

Steve doesn’t stop though, just uses his hold on Eddie to rub them together as he mutters a soft “S’okay, baby, don't stop. Wanna feel you, please, Eddie."

The whine Steve gets is better than any song he's ever heard, and he thinks he might go insane when Eddie starts rutting against his hip, when his hands move to scrabble at Steve's back. He seems desperate, almost novice in his motions, and Steve revels in it. A firm squeeze of Eddie's ass has him moaning a "Fuck, Steve," that's just as sweet as it was weeks ago.

"That's it, baby. I've got you, keep going."

It's over pretty quickly after that; there's a few more minutes where their grinding gets a bit sloppy and desperate, where the only noise in the room is their combined breathing and the whines Eddie fails to bite back. Eventually, Eddie's fingers dig into Steve’s shoulders and he trembles as he comes, surely ruining the boxers he's wearing.

“So good, Eddie. So fuckin’ perfect baby.”

The thought of stripping Eddie down and licking him clean - of sucking Eddie's spunk from the fabric so he gets every last drop - is what does Steve in, his own orgasm hitting him with a low groan. They lay there for a second, just holding each other until Eddie finally pulls away. Steve lets him go, watches Eddie flop onto his back as he tries to catch his breath.

“I can't believe that just fucking happened. Am I still dreaming?” he asks as he scrubs a hand over his face, and Steve shakes his head.

“Not dreaming. But, uh. I'm sorry for just- doing that, without asking," he says, feeling the sudden need to apologize, to explain. "When I realized you were grinding on me, I probably should have pulled away or something but fuck, Eddie. You're so irresistible, and I've wanted you so long-"

“You've wanted?” Eddie asks, clearly baffled. "You're- You- Irresistible?"

Steve grins and nods. "Yeah? I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when you're around."

Eddie blinks and his eyes glaze over like he's remembering every interaction they've had recently. "Oh my god," he groans, finally seeming to get it. "I can't believe I didn't realize you've been like, blatantly flirting with me. Holy fuck."

"I also have to confess something. Before we get too far into this."

"I don't know if I can handle any more confessions," Eddie says, his voice thin.

“I uh. I watched you. Came to the trailer one night a few weeks ago and saw you fucking your pillow, and- shit Eddie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you.”

There's a moment of silence while Steve lets Eddie process that, while he waits for the possibility of Eddie being revolted by his actions and leaving. He's almost surprised when Eddie asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, "What, uh- What've you been thinking about me?"

And god, Steve can't just not touch him when he sounds so timid, so different from his usual bombastic self. He rolls over so he's laying partially on Eddie, pressing their bodies together from chest to hip and slotting a leg between Eddie's own. He props himself up on an elbow so he can watch Eddie's face and pushes his free hand into that mess of curls.

"I've been thinking about how hot you look when you're desperate like that. About all those whiny, needy little sounds you were making. How you said my name when you came."

Steve can feel Eddie's dick twitch against his hip, can feel the way his chest hitches on a breath as he says “Steve…”

“What were you dreaming about just now?” Steve asks as he dips down, unable to resist pressing a kiss to the corner of Eddie's plush mouth.

Eddie's hands settle on Steve's sides, almost like he's afraid to touch, and he takes a shaky inhale before whispering “You, always you."

“Mm, and what was I doing, baby?”

“Shit. We, uh. We were at the Hawk, in the very back row, and you had your hand in my- in my pants jacking me off. You were telling me to keep quiet so no one else would notice us but it was so hard.”

God, what a fucking dream. Steve grinds their hips together, a silent encouragement as he says “Tell me another one?” and Eddie whimpers.

"Um, after game night. Everyone else left and you would- wouldn't even let me clean up before you were bending me over the table and pushing your fingers into me, seeing if I was still loose from where you fucked me earlier."

Fuck. "Were you?"

Eddie nods and his hands fist in Steve's shirt. "Still loose, still - fuck - still wet from you coming in me, filling me up."

That's what breaks Steve, what has him pressing their mouths together in a needy first kiss. Eddie moans into it, responding eagerly when Steve bites into his lip, when he pushes his tongue past the line of Eddie's teeth to taste inside him.

Steve's always loved kissing, but this- This is instantly addicting. He uses his grip on Eddie's hair to hold the other man in place as he devours Eddie's mouth, as he maps out every inch of it. Eddie's hips jerk up and Steve grinds down against him, slow and filthy as he swallows each one of Eddie's pretty whines and whimpers. It's only a couple of minutes before Eddie breaks the kiss with a gasping “Fuck, I'm gonna come,” and Steve presses a kiss to his jaw.

“Already? You just came a few minutes ago, honey.”

“Yeah, well you try having all your dirty fantasies come true in one fell swoop and see how well you hold up."

"I mean, I'm clearly holding up pretty well," Steve grins, and sees when Eddie realizes yet again that Steve wants him. He kisses Eddie again, just a quick peck before he says "I want you to do something for me before you come, okay?"

Eddie gives a curious "Okay?" and Steve pulls back, reaching for his pillow and passing it to Eddie. “Show me again. Let me watch you properly this time, baby.”

A shudder runs through Eddie's frame and he nods before he flips over and crams the pillow under his hips. He glances at Steve and takes a shaky breath before he starts a slow grind, unsure but clearly eager to obey.

Steve is practically holding his breath as he watches the sinuous movement, as he tracks the way Eddie rolls his hips into the pillow. It's mesmerizing, and Steve is so engrossed by the fact that he's finally allowed to watch, that it takes him a second to realize that it's stiff. Each thrust feels a bit mechanical, and Steve is sure that Eddie is either holding back or overthinking it, most likely from nerves.

Steve gets that, but he really wants to see Eddie let loose, to see that almost primal desperation he had last time. He reaches out to grab the slight swell of Eddie's ass and pushes a bit in encouragement as he mutters "Come on, honey. Just relax, let me see you." Eddie whimpers and Steve revels in it as the man actually lets go and starts to properly rut against the plush pillow.

"That's it, baby, so fucking good."

Eddie keens at the praise and Steve moves his hand to his own dick, palming himself through his damp boxers. It's a bit uncomfortable, but he doesn't stop, needing a bit of relief where he's already straining against the fabric. Eddie must see the movement because he tips his head to get a better look and groans a soft "God, Steve," and his hips stutter.

Steve grins and grabs his dick, giving Eddie a better look at the shape of it through his boxers. "S'all for you, Eddie. Love seeing you so needy, so desperate for me." An obvious shiver runs through Eddie and his hands clench in the bedding.

"Fuck, Steve. Need you, sweetheart, please."

And how could Steve deny such a sweet request? He moves to straddle Eddie's thighs and grabs his slim waist, pinning Eddie down and stopping his motions. He rocks forward, his cock lining up with the crack of Eddie's ass as he starts to grind against him, and the noise that escapes Eddie is desperate.

Every thrust from Steve presses Eddie harder into the pillow below him, and though he wishes they were skin to skin - that he could really wedge himself between Eddie's ass cheeks and rub over his hole - there's no way he's going to stop and rectify it.

Eddie is whining again, whimpering in a way that goes straight to Steve's dick. He moves a hand from Eddie's waist to the back of his neck and uses the leverage to speed up, to make every thrust harder, like he's trying to fuck Eddie through their clothes.

"This is what I wanted to do last time when I saw you, when I watched you," Steve says, his voice nearly a growl. "Wanted to climb in your bed and rub my dick on you, just like this. Wanted to strip you down and fuck you until you were crying."

A hard shudder wracks Eddie's frame, and for a second Steve is sure Eddie just came again. He's proven wrong when Eddie reaches back to claw at Steve's leg as he gasps "Oh god, gonna come! Steve, please-!"

Steve thinks he growls as he presses down harder. "Do it, Eddie. Come for me, let me have it."

"Shit shit shit!"

Eddie shakes apart as his orgasm hits him, the noise he makes wordless and wounded, and Steve isn't far behind him. He grinds against Eddie's ass and thinks about next time, wonders if Eddie will let Steve stretch him open with his fingers, his tongue, his dick, and then he peaks.

Steve paints the inside of his briefs a second time before he falls forward, draping himself over Eddie's back like a blanket. He wraps his arms around Eddie's waist and rolls them on their sides, tugging him close until they're properly spooning. He dots kisses along the line of Eddie's neck as he waits for Eddie's tremors slow and then stop.

"You good?" he asks, voice soft as he nuzzles into the space behind his ear, ignoring the curls that tickle his nose.

"Never better, actually. Fuck."

Steve chuckles softly and tightens his grip slightly, again wishing they were naked so he could feel the warmth of Eddie's skin pressed against his own. He sates himself by sliding a hand up into Eddie's shirt and toying with the soft trail of hair that runs down into his shorts.

"So what happens now?" Eddie asks after a moment of silence, his voice soft.

"Well, we probably need a shower, but we could get away with just a wipe down for now."

"I mean like- with us. What happens with us? Because if you don't want anything serious from this, I need to know ahead of time-"

"I do want serious, Eddie. God, I wanna be serious with you. Yeah, I'm like, super horny for you-" Eddie snorts a laugh, and Steve squeezes him briefly as he continues "-but I also like you. Like, a lot a lot. I wanna be boyfriends, if that's what you want too."

Eddie turns in his arms, shifting until they're face to face, and even in the low light Steve can see his eyes shining with joy. "I like the sound of boyfriends," he mutters, and Steve beams as he leans in for another kiss.

He pulls away after a moment, just enough to mutter against Eddie's mouth, "How do you feel about going to the Hawk for our first date?"

#cw: accidental voyeurism #cw: dubcon #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes

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cyberrose2001 · 7 months ago

Note

[Not a request!] [NSFW!] [Very long!]

I rewatched all of the Bayverse movies and I almost forgot how unbelievably hot Bay!Optimus is, esp AOE Optimus. 😩 So have this horny thought! (Just a heads up, Reader DOES fuck herself with a seatbelt and a gearshifter! Non-robo-fuckers beware!)

You and Optimus are stuck in gridlock traffic, trying to rendezvous with the other Autobots. He can't transform and get out of there, and you two are stuck stuck. Alone. Just the two of you. And he can't move or do anything to compromise his cover... 😈

You start slow, squirming and writhing, pinching your thighs together, rubbing your now dripping pussy against the seat. You can tell by the stutters of his engine that he has most definitely noticed, he just hasn't said anything. Yet.

You lean back in your seat and run your hands delicately over the armrest on the door. As you do, your other hand disappears down your pants. Still, nothing from your only audience member.

You continue your show, but the moment you let out a moan or whimper, Optimus suddenly tightens his seatbelt against you.

"What are you doing?" He finally asks, unable to help himself.

You look down at the dashboard and see his engine temperature steadily rising. The windows have fogged over despite the AC on full blast. It feels much more... private now... 😈😈😈

"Just trying to kill some time. Not like we're going anywhere anytime soon." You reply impishly. Then you're moving to take off your clothes, a true feat when your seatbelt is practically gluing you to the seat.

"There are humans close by..." He protests weakly.

Laughing, you bring your knees up and spread your legs. "Is that the best you have?"

You begin massaging your pussy, breathing heavily against your seatbelt. His engine stutters and almost stalls, and you can tell he desperately wants to transform and stretch you on his spike. Alas, he can't blow his cover.

You milk it for all it's worth, constantly changing positions to give him a view from all angles, going fast then slow, saying the filthiest things, and smearing your juices all over yourself and the seat.

You're perfectly content with teasing him until the cows come home, but then your seatbelt comes flying off and moves to capture one of your arms. By now you were laying across the bench seat, face down as you fingered yourself. Another seatbelt came to grab your other arm. And then a third seatbelt-

"Oh fuck!" You cry as something cold and hard slaps your pussy. You almost let out a sob when it strikes against your ass.

The seatbelt is relentless in its torment, smacking your lower half until there are angry square marks covering your skin and the metal of the buckle is warm. Your legs are shivering with the effort to not come undone.

There's a bit of movement in traffic, but it's only a few yards until you're stopped again. Watching the bulbous knob of his gearshift move gave you the most wicked idea yet.

"You're gonna pay for these." You threaten, pointing to the marks on your poor cheeks.

Optimus chuckles, making the whole cabin rumble. "How so?"

You pick yourself up and move over to the gearshifter, turning around so that your hands are on the seat, and lower yourself. It stretches you wide, but you keep going. You're desperate for release now.

Optimus accidentally honks his horn. "No, wait-!"

You let out a cry and you pump the bulbous knob in and out of you, squeezing it for all it's worth. Optimus' entire frame is rumbling now, deeper and more violently than when he was laughing. You finally find a rhythm and spew the nastiest, filthiest words. Every time you go down, you take a little more of the long handle. By the time you're about to cum, it's fully rearranging your guts.

Cars behind you are honking. Traffic has moved, but Optimus, too preoccupied with the human impaling herself on his gearshifter, has not. Trying his best to not cause any further delay, Optimus shifts gears and rolls forward. The shifter is pulled back towards the seats, and you swear you can see it bulging through your stomach.

You see stars as you cum, tears rolling down your face as you continue speaking filth. As he comes to a stop once more, the shifter goes back and you swear the scream you let out isn't human. There's a great shudder from Optimus, he rolls coal as something that suspiciously looks like transfluid leaks from underneath him.

Panting as you crawl back onto your seat, your body feels loose and floppy. "I didn't know your gearshifter would be a sensitive body part."

Optimus' voice is deeper and raspier than normal when he replies, "I... did not either."

(I understand that this ask is trash, filth, and trashy filth, so feel free to delete this ask if it's too much lmaooo.)

-🧚‍♀️🦋

Oh my god, this is so fucking hot

My favourite part is when Optimus has to shift his gearstick while its inside reader 🫣 thats something I don't think I've seen yet and that I'll need more of

Awesome work!! thank you for sharing <3

#transformers #bayverse #tf bayverse #bay!optimus #valveplug #not my writing #asks #long posts

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emberfrostlovesloki · 1 year ago

Text

Hit and Run [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (Panic! at the Disco) Center (@hotch-girl) Right (@figdays)

Prompt: The BAU reader gets in a hit-and-run accident on the way to work, and Aaron is forced to confront his growing feelings for her. Those feelings are finally shared as the reader nearly faints on a case and Aaron is there to catch her before she falls.

Pairing: Hotch x fem reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Hurt/Comfort/fluff

Word Count: 13.5K

Content Warnings: Car accident (hit and run [reader]) cuts and bruises, second-degree burns on the legs and feet (and healing of those burns), hospitals, canon typical violence (mention of poisoning and strangulation), fainting (reader) language.

A/N: Good evening, loves! I’m so happy that this is finally finished. It turned out much longer than I had planned. But somehow I’m not surprised. There isn’t a ton of action in this story, it’s just a lot of emotional build-up that I hope pays off in the end. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great rest of your week! Love Levi ❤️

P.S. This is not as edited as it can be. I'll do that tomorrow.

List with all stories

_y/f/s_ = your favorite song

_y/h/l_ = your hair length

_y/f/f/w_ = your favorite face wash

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/f/f_ = your favorite fruit

_y/b/f_ = your best friend

_y/f/s_ = your favorite TV show.

_y/n_ woke to the lack of oxygen. Her vision was black, and she couldn’t breathe. _y/n_ tried to move, and that was her second mistake. As she tried to shift in what was a very uncomfortable, confined space her body protested. It was also hot, uncomfortably hot. The pain and the heat dragged a ragged breath from _y/n_. That also hurt, her ribs aching against the movement of her lungs expanding in her ribcage. _y/n_’s eyes open and the world swam in front of her. There was something white in her lap. That was all she could make out, as she blinked and saw spots. The heat on her lower legs was becoming unbearable. She groaned in pain. Why was everything hurting? What was going on? She had just been driving to work like every other day for the last two years after joining the bureau. _y/n_’s mind moved back to the early morning.

She had woken at 5:00 a.m. as normal to an alarm that she was now regretting horribly. _y/n_ could feel the approaching time change, and she knew that it would be even harder to adjust to the shorter days and possibly leave the office in darkness instead of the warmth of the dripping orange five o'clock sun. _y/n_ had set _y/f/s_ as her new alarm. Now that she had woken to it for over a week, _y/n_ realized that she might be ruining her favorite song for herself. _y/n_ had rolled over in bed and for one second, wished she was back in college when the worst thing about an alarm had been the prospect of a dreadful 8:00 a.m. algebra class. In the darkness of her room, _y/n_ finally hit stop on the alarm and got out from under the warm covers of her bed. Once her feet were on the wood floor of her bedroom, _y/n_’s natural routine kicked in. _y/n_ moved to the bathroom and turned on the light by the sink. She had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. _y/n_ pulled her _y/h/l_ hair away from her face with a fluffy grey headband. She turned the tap to warm and waited a moment for it to heat up. After thirty seconds, _y/n_ leaned down and began raising her face with the warm water. After her face was wetted, she pumped a small bit of _y/f/fw_ into her palm and began applying and lathering it over her skin. Once _y/n_ was satisfied with the coverage, she rinsed it off completely. Lastly, she turned the knob on the sink to cold and rinsed her face once more. The cold water always had the wanted effect; finally getting her tired brain to wake up. _y/n_ padded into the kitchen and started a cup of coffee before moving back to the bedroom to change. She needed to do laundry but was avoiding it -- putting it off until the weekend. Because of this, her options were scant. She decided on a pair of loser-fitting black pants with a simple white grid pattern. She had picked them up at a thrift shop two weekends ago and thought they were a good find. _y/n_ then went to her closet and picked out a _y/f/c_ turtleneck shirt. She added a grey scarf and pulled out some thick socks and her well-worn Doc. Martins. Once the outfit and boots were on, _y/n_ moved back to the kitchen. She doctored the coffee to her liking and opened the fridge. She pulled out a yogurt cup and a piece of _y/f/f_ from the fridge. She leaned against the counter as she dipped the spoon into the yogurt. She needed to eat quickly as morning traffic was going to be hell on the way to work. It had rained the night before and the temperatures had dropped below freezing which meant slick, icy roads. After burning her tongue on the hot coffee and finishing breakfast, _y/n_ made it out to her car. She didn’t forget to grab her go bag or sidearm from its gun safe, as she locked the door behind her.

Coming back to herself, the heat on her legs was really starting to hurt and whatever adrenaline had stopped the real pain from kicking in was quickly ebbing away. _y/n_’s eyes cleared, and she came fully to her senses. She let out a cry. The deflated airbag was resting on her lap with fragments of tempered glass from the passenger side door and windshield. _y/n_ could distinctly hear her breathing. _y/n_’s left hand seemed to be pinned between her seat and the plastic padding of the interior of the car. She tried to pull the appendage free but it was struck. _y/n_ could move her fingers at least which was a good sign. _y/n_ was sure there was some sort of fire happening near her feet and legs, and she used her right hand to clumsily push back the airbag. There was black smoke filling the cab now and there was a tongue of flame dancing near her ankles. She tried her best to pull her feet up as she coughed on the noxious fumes. The situation was becoming dire. _y/n_ started to panic as her eyes welled from the smoke. She tried to undo her seatbelt, but it was stuck. Not thinking clearly with all the pain, she tried to open the driver’s side door, but that too seemed jammed. _y/n_ pulled her turtleneck over her lips and nose and tried to undo the seatbelt again. She didn’t even seem to notice as a group of strangers beat on the unbroken glass of her window to get her attention.

Emily saw the whole thing. Or almost the whole thing, as she made her way to work. The roads were crowded and people driving were either very defensive or just plain bad given the weather. Emily pulled on the main drive to work and saw _y/n_’s car in front of her. Em had considered tapping her horn to say hello but decided against it. They would be together in the office in about ten minutes anyway. As they moved down the road toward the intersection that led to the FBI field office, a car merged into the lane in front of Emily, dangerously. At this, she did honk her horn once and thought, ‘Jerk,’ as the sedan slightly blocked her view of _y/n_’s car. The light, which was notoriously fast, turned green and Emily inched forward. The light was turning yellow as Prentiss approached the intersection, and _y/n_ was halfway through the four-lane street with her blinker on to turn left. There was no way that _y/n_ could see the truck coming from the other side of the intersection. The large vehicle was speeding down the slippery road and ran straight passed the red light and into _y/n_’s car. Emily couldn’t tear her eyes away as the metal collided. Prentiss watched as _y/n_’s body was violently pushed to the side. The sound of the metal crunching and glass breaking had Emily’s nerves standing on end. _y/n_’s car and the truck slid a foot to the edge of the highway curb. There was a moment of silence as if Emily were waiting for something else to happen. The truck didn’t seem that damaged apart from a large dent to the hood, and it roared back to life loudly. The tires squealed against the ice as it backed up and then, very quickly sped down the street. Em memorized the plate number and then pulled forward into the intersection. Prentiss sent up a silent prayer that everyone else on the road had stopped and that another car hadn’t been involved in the crash. Em flicked on her hazards and jumped out of her car. Two other vehicles had done the same thing as her and a large man was already at the door of _y/n_’s car trying to open and free the agent trapped inside. Then there was a petite woman with her phone to her ear speaking to 9-1-1. Em overheard the woman say, “No, we’re trying to get her out of the car now. She’s moving around in there. Yes, yes. It’s the intersection of Neville Road and Barnett Avenue. Because Emily was assured the paramedics were on their way, she moved toward the heavily dented call. She called a number one on speed dial as she got to the wreck.

Aaron had gotten to the office early. When didn’t he? He was normally the first one in and the last one out. No matter how he cut it, either as he found his job important, or that he hardly had a life outside of work -- apart from Jack -- at least his extended hours at the bureau kept him from his empty apartment. When he was there, and Hailey had Jack during the week, it felt all too still. All too lifeless for his liking. At least he got to do some of the more bureaucratic brain-rotting mundane paperwork the job entailed from the team. He could often be found late at night in his office filling out the basic forms for his team over and over and over again in his neat blocky handwriting. So far it was only he and Mogan in the office, Derek was moving toward his desk, and Aaron turned to do the same. In half an hour he was going to meet with JJ to see about the next case for the team. Just as he settled into his swivel chair that hurt his back if he sat in it too long, he heard Derek shout his name. There was a distress in its tone. A sharp “Aaron!” that he rarely if ever had heard from Morgan before. He was on his feet and out of his office in an instant. He flew down the stairs. Morgan was already on the move toward the elevators and Hotch jogged to make up the distance and asked as he moved down the hall, “Morgan, what is it?” Derek turned to Aaron and said, “_y/n_ got in a hit and run on Barnett. Emily just called me. She’s already there.” Hearing this made Hotch’s stomach feel like it was suddenly being squeezed by an iron fist. His heart dropped as the worst possible scenarios flicked in front of his mind. Aaron hurriedly asked, “Is she okay? What did Emily say!” The urgency in his voice probably gave away that he was incredibly concerned for his younger agent’s safety. Perhaps more concerned than a boss should be about his employees. Hotch could see that Derek had caught what he was thinking, but he couldn’t fucking care. Not when he was imagining _y/n_ bleeding out, or already dead in front of him. He couldn’t bear it, so he repeated his question. Finally, Morgan snapped back to himself and as the elevator moved to the ground floor, he replied, “Em says she’s awake but trapped in the car and there’s a smoke filling the cab.” Hotch gritted his teeth, as he nodded along. Smoke meant fire, and fire meant possible combustion. Aaron wished the damn elevator moved faster. When they got to the bottom floor, he and Morgan sprinted past Spencer, Rossi, and JJ who were waiting to pass through security. Spencer asked, “What’s going on?” Morgan shouted back, “_y/n_’s hurt.” Derek’s car was the closest to the pair, and they both got in. Derek moved out of the lot as quickly as he could without speeding or getting himself and Hotch in an accident of their own with the roads as they were. When they got closer to the intersection, the cars were backed up down the road. Aaron looked at Morgan and Derek could see the desperation in his colleague's face. Morgan said, “Jump out. I’ll pull over and be there in a minute.” Aaron nodded and moved out into the bitterly cold air. Hotch nearly ate it twice on the slick concrete. He couldn’t care, he’d crawl on his hands and knees to get to _y/n_. Hotch could hear the peal of sirens in the distance. When he got to the scene, there was an assembled crowd. He elbowed his way to the front. He was relieved to see _y/n_ was out of her car. But the crumpled wreck of metal didn’t much calm his mind. _y/n_ had been pulled twenty or so feet away from the damaged vehicle.

Emily saw Hotch ran, and nearly tumbled, as he got a foot away from _y/n_. Prentiss felt better now that he was here. Em knew that _y/n_ and Hotch had something going on, or at least they both wanted to have something going on. The whole team saw it as a matter of fact. The issue was that neither Aaron nor _y/n_ had caught on. Or if they had, both parties weren’t acting on the feelings between the two of them. Hotch fell to his knees next to Emily. Prentiss was holding _y/n_’s hand. Prentiss sort of handed over _y/n_’s hand to him. Aaron didn’t even think as he took it and held it close in both his hands. Subconsciously, he drew _y/n_’s hand close to his chest, his heart. He was leaning over her, trying to ascertain the damage to her body. Her level of pain. When _y/n_ felt a new set of hands, a familiar set of hands resting around hers, she opened her eyes. Everything was bleary, swimming in front of her. But even with her compromised vision, she knew it was Aaron beside her. His broad shoulder and soft touch were all she needed to know that it was him. _y/n_ thought that she’d know him with less information than that. She believed that she could be blinded and deaf and she’d still know it was him if he walked into her room. _y/n_ tried to turn her head to the side to see his face better, but the man that had ended up dragging her body out of the driver’s side window which Emily had shot out with her sidearm, stopped her movement. There was a painfully loud explosion from _y/n_’s car as it finally combusted. The fire had reached the fuel tank and even though they were far enough away from the car to not be burned, the whole group could feel the heat radiate out from the flaming car. At the noise and heat, Hotch protectively moved his body over _y/n_’s. The loud sound had _y/n_ whimper, and Aaron wasn’t sure he could take hearing _y/n_ like this. Aaron didn’t even realize that the fire trucks, police cruisers, and ambulances had arrived. The sound of their siren was not registering to him, as he only had thoughts for _y/n_. Morgan and the firemen telling the assembled crowd to move back finally brought him back to himself.

Aaron shifted up as two EMTs ran over to them. Hotch reluctantly let go of _y/n_’s hand and moved back to make room for the two men who now had taken his and Prentiss’s places. One of the EMTs pulled out a penlight. _y/n_’s eyes didn’t follow the light. They drifted, and her pupils were dilated. Meanwhile, the other, leaner EMT was looking at _y/n_’s legs. The man had pushed up _y/n_’s pants up to her knees. Aaron looked at the angry red skin on her legs. At some point _y/n’s shoes had been taken off and Hotch noticed there was a small hole in her sock near her big toe. All Aaron seemed to be able to do at the moment was notice small details about _y/n_. Like how her watch face was cracked. How _y/n_’s speech was slurred as the paramedic asked her if she remembered what had happened. It seemed that _y/n_ did, just struggled to get the words out as she said, “Hit ‘an run. Big.” She swallowed painfully and continued, “Truck. Grey green… light.” Aaron suddenly became poignant about Emily being near him again as he felt her gaze linger on him. He turned and looked at Prentiss. Aaron asked, “What happened exactly?” Emily swallowed, as she watched _y/n_ squirm under the hand of the leaner paramedic who was pressing down on her blistering legs. Once Em had composed herself a bit, she said, “Well _y/n_ was one car in front of me. The light turned green. She did everything right, obviously. This guy, I’ve got his plate number and everything was driving a Ford F-350. And it was grey. The guy hit her on the driver's side. He was out of control maybe. He just barreled into her. I couldn’t guess the speed he was going. If the dude had been out of control when he crashed into _y/n_, he most certainly intentionally left without getting out and checking on _y/l/n_.” Hotch nodded and said, “Alright. Well, call Pen about the license plate. She’s sure to be in her office right now. I’m sure she’s called all of us at least twenty times by now. She’ll be relieved to hear from any of us.” Prentiss nodded her assent and moved to get her phone from her back pocket.

Aaron watched the paramedics move _y/n_ onto a waiting stretcher. As they lifted her up, Hotch turned to the larger man and said, “Can I ride with you to the hospital? Where are you taking her?” The man looked at Aaron intently and said, “Rockingham Memorial. Are you her husband? Partner.” Hotch cleared his throat for a moment, as his heart stuttered in his chest, and said, “I’m her boss. She’s a federal agent.” Aaron flashed his badge at the man, and the EMT took a second to look at the badge and Hotch over once. The EMT nodded and said “Alright. We’re going to load her in and then you can sit in the bench seat.” Hotch nodded as the seasoned medical professionals easily transported, wheeled, and lifted _y/n_ into the back of the waiting ambulance. Once the more built man was inside and locking the gurney in place, as well as placing one restraining strap around _y/n_’s waist. Hotch sat on the edge of the small seat. The EMT radiated the other man and said. “We can get moving, Stan.” There was a static and Stan replied, “Roger that. Headed to Rockingman, John.” With that, the large vehicle started moving down the road. John started by pulling out the pressure cuff and placing it around _y/n_’s arm. The man checked in, making sure his patient was still with them, even if not fully present. John asked, “How are you feeling? What’s your pain level on a scale from one to five.” John held up his hands, indicating one and five. Aaron focused in on her, as she said, “I don’t feel anything really. I’m just cold. So cold.” John nodded and moved to the front of the space. The man pulled out an emergency blanket and spread it over _y/n_’s form before he started pumping the pressure cuff to see what her blood pressure was. When the man had taken the reading, he jotted down the number, the EMT looked to Aaron, who was clearly upset, and said, “She’s most likely in shock. Both from the cold and what she’s been through in the last hour. Right now it looks like a mild concussion, some; burns to the legs, lacerations from the glass, and bruising to the body. Given the state of her car and how charred it was, I think we can find _y/n_ very lucky to have so fortunate an outcome. She very well might have died in her car as it caught fire.” Again all Aaron could do was nod along because there was nothing else for him to do but wait to hear more, from the hospital, Garcia, or _y/n_ herself. Hotch knew that he was going to have to think long and hard about what this whole incident meant to him. How he had reacted on pure instinct. How he couldn’t stop himself from seeming composed as he learned that _y/n_ had been hurt. How he had pictured her dead, lifeless body in front of him. How that was the worst thing he could possibly imagine at the moment. But for now, he would wait. Try to be present to _y/n_’s needs. There would be time to think later. Quickly the ambulance rushed to the hospital and when it arrived, Hotch jumped out and made way for the EMTs to lift _y/n_ down and out of the truck. As Hotch watched the men wheel her away to a space he didn’t have access to, John said, “You can go to the front of the hospital and check-in. A nurse will be with you when there’s news on _y/n_’s condition.”

Once Aaron had checked in at the front desk, he paced around the waiting room. Hotch pulled out his phone for the first time in an hour and found thirsty missed calls from Gacia, and three texts from Derek, Rossi, and Emily asking where _y/n_ had been taken. Hotch told Morgan the name of the hospital and what John’s preliminary assessment of _y/n_ had been in the ambulance. He was sure Derek would spread the word to everyone else. Once he ended the call with Morgan, who assured him he, Emily, and Rossi were headed over once they had finished speaking with the police. Next, to keep himself busy, Hotch called Garica. Penelope picked up on the first ring, and even though she said, “Office of Supreme Intelligence, to whom am I speaking?” Aaron could hear the strain in her voice. Aaron replied, “It’s Hotch. Got a read on that license plate yet?” There was a squeaky sound as Penelope moved in her swivel chair. Her tone was now determined as she stated, “I do. Plate number 7PN-G542 belongs to Mr. Paul Wilson of South Carolina. The man is squeaky clean. It appears he’s done nothing wrong in his life. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the guy we’re looking for.” Hotch asked, “Why’s that?” Penelope was typing away wildly, as she replied, “Well Mr. Wilson is Cuban American and the man Emily described was white. Also, there’s a report out for that truck's plate reporting it being stolen two days ago from a lot in South Carolina. So…” Hotch breathed a sigh and said, “Alright. Well, the report’s out there, at least there’s that.” There was a moment of silence before Garcia asked, “How is _y/n_? Em said she looked pretty bad. Did the paramedics say anything else in the ride to the hospital?” Aaron was still pacing but stopped for a moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. Everything felt like it was happening so fast and yet so slow. He looked at his watch, it had only been fifteen minutes since he had gotten here. He had no idea how long it would be until someone came to tell him more information about _y/n_. He exhaled and replied to Garcia’s question saying, “There’s not much more to add from what Morgan told you. The EMT said she was most likely in shock, but she stayed conscious the whole ride over. _y/n_ was a bit loopy though, speaking with slurred speech, and long pauses, but the EMTs seemed to think she would be alright. Of course, only time can tell.” Hotch let the last line slip and realized how strange that sounded coming from someone like him. He repeated the line in his head, ‘Only time can tell.’ How cliche he reflected. Time would tell, time was telling right now as _y/n_ was being examined, prodded, and pocked to see the extent of damage her body had taken. Hotch became aware that he hadn’t been speaking for a minute, as Garcia’s breath on the other end of the line came through clearly. Thankfully Aaron was saved from any awkwardness because Prentiss, Rossi, and Morgan all rushed into the room. Hotch said, “Hey, Garcia, most of the team is here now, so I’m going to catch up with them. You can come a join us if you like.” The technical analyst replied, “I’ll be there in a bit. I’m going to see if I can find more info on the APB for the stolen truck, and then I’ll head right over.” Hotch nodded and said, “Garcia, please don’t break any internet or hacking laws trying to find this guy.” There was a pause and he tacked on, “At least not any that you can get caught for.” Hearing this, Penelope chuckled and said, “You got it, boss man. See you in a few.” The call ended, and Aaron approached the rest of the team.

Thankfully the members of the BAU only had to wait for about another forty minutes before a nurse came out and said, “Party for _y/l/n_?” Just as the middle-aged woman called, Garcia entered the building and all five members moved to the woman. Her nametag had Joan printed on it. Joan smiled and said, “Ms. _y/l/n_ is recovering well. She sustained a second-degree concussion, a hairline fracture to her left wrist, some bruising and lacerations to the face and chest, and second-degree burns to her legs. The whole team seemed to still at the news. Everyone looked around as if silently asking, ‘And how bad is that? What does that mean?’ Joan was helpful enough to answer their unanswered question with, “Miss _y/n_ is recovering well. She’s more fully conscious now. The primary concerns are her concussion and the burns on her feet. She’ll need some aid in getting around for a week or so, and the hospital is going to monitor her for a few more hours to make sure she’s cognitively okay for discharge. The doctor is speaking to her now, but you should all be able to go back and see her in a few minutes. She’ll need someone to stay with for a few days. Everyone nodded along. It was a short wait now that the team knew more, and that _y/n_ wasn’t in any serious danger. This didn’t stop Hotch’s mind from racing. From him wondering what would have happened if it had been worse. If _y/n_ had been seriously hurt. He tried as hard as he could, and yet he couldn’t still those thoughts. This situation reminded him that life was frail. That life, love, could be snuffed out in an instant. Life could be taken and it wouldn’t even have to be on the field, it could happen on a cold Monday morning and it wouldn’t even be his fault. There might not even be anyone to blame. The idea disturbed him deeply. His first were clenched tightly at his sides. He could feel his fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. As the nurse indicated it was okay for the team to move and see _y/n_ Hotch thought, ‘This is a problem.

Inside _y/n_ little curtained-off room, the doctor was just finishing up speaking with her and the grey-haired man moved out of the way to make room for the large group. When everyone shuffled in, _y/n_ almost smiled. She was much more coherent than two hours ago when she had been laid out on the frozen ground, Aaron noticed. _y/n_ didn’t look or feel great. Her body ached all over and her vision was still a bit off. The lights were too bright for one thing. She had to stop herself from squinting as the team all herded in around her. She knew she already looked goofy in a hospital gown. The nurse hadn’t let her look in a mirror, and maybe that was for the best. Not that _y/n_ was a very vain person. She tried her best to be content with her body and how she looked, but it felt like crossing some unspoken personal rule to be this disheveled in front of the team. In front of Hotch. For a second, she wanted to hide her face in her hands, or ask Emily, “How do I look?” But it was all pointless, and it would be such a character shift from the normal, no-nonsense attitude she showed in the field and office. So she mustered up a face that hid some of her pain and said, “You don’t have to look so concerned, guys. I feel like garbage, but I’ll live.”

The team did look very worried, and she thought that maybe she really did look as bad as she felt. The team chuckled at her comment, and immediately she felt better. _y/n_’s gaze found Hotch’s, and she noticed the thin line of his mouth. It was set seriously. She wondered if he was mad at her? But why would he be? She’d never really seen him like this before. It was close to the time that Emily had gotten hurt in a case at Waco. But there was something more to this look, and she was too tired to try and decipher it at the moment. Instead, she flashed him the tiniest of smiles. At this, Aaron’s face seemed to settle to its normal stoic look, so _y/n_ looked to the rest of the team so she didn’t start blushing. Penelope moved toward and gave her a little kiss on the cheek and asked, “How are you feeling, baby girl?” _y/n_ normally bristled at Pen’s pet names, but she accepted it once given the circumstances. _y/n_ replied, “Well, they’ve got me on some pretty good pain meds, so all things considered it could be worse. My feet feel funky though, in a not great kind of way. Penelope squeezed _y/n_’s hand and said, “Well we’re all here to help you out with whatever you need.” Derek agreed, saying, “Exactly what Pen said, _y/n_. You need anything and we’re on it.” As Morgan finished, the nurse moved back in and asked, “Miss _y/n_ have you decided who you’re going to stay with for the next few days?” _y/n_ blushed profusely. She hadn’t had time to ask anyone on the team, and she wasn’t even sure they had been informed that she was going to get some help for the next two days. It was embarrassing really. She liked others to think of her as strong and confident. Someone they could turn to, but now the tables had been turned. She looked up at the team, and she could see in all those assembled that they would be happy to have her. Rossi may be less so, but both she and Dave knew that she wasn’t going to ask him. _y/n_ had to pull herself from looking at Aaron. Because if she did, he would readily nod, and then that would mean that they could spend the night together at her place, or his, and potentially the night after that, and _y/n_ wasn’t sure if she could take that right now with how she was feeling. She might say things and do things that betrayed her feelings for him. In fact, she knew she would do something stupid, given all the meds and endorphins rushing through her body. So she looked up at Emily, and Prentiss beamed at her. They didn’t even need to say anything to understand each other. _y/n_ looked over at the nurse and said, “I’ll stay with Emily.” Prentiss raised her hand as her name was spoken, and the nurse moved toward her to get her contact information for the hospital's systems. As Emily moved with the nurse to the information desk, Rossi stepped forward and patted _y/n_ on the shoulder and said, “Keep your head up, kid.” _y/n_ gave him a smile too and said, “I’ll try Rossi.” There was an awkward silence as _y/n_ looked over at Hotch. _y/n_ wondered if he was ever going to say anything, or just keep standing there looking pained and uncomfortable.

Finally, Aaron cleared his throat. Garcia and Dave seemed to slide out of the room before _y/n_ could ask them to stay. She flushed again, and _y/n_ knew that Aaron could see her. _y/n_ wasn’t so silly to assume that Hotch didn’t know about her infatuation with him. It had to be clear. It was just awkward that neither of them had admitted it, even in the slightest. Maybe _y/n_ had read into Hotch’s actions around her, but she was pretty sure he cared about her as much as she liked him. The fact that he was her boss was what was a real punch in the gut. But what could she do? The feelings were there, she just had to stifle them. After a minute of silence, Aaron spoke. He used his reassuring voice, but he wasn’t sure who exactly he was giving comfort to, himself or _y/n. He said, “Would you be honest with me? How do you really feel, and what did the doctor say?” _y/n_ let out a sigh. She couldn’t lie to him even if she wanted to, so she said “My head’s all fuzzy, the lights are too bright, and my feet and legs hurt. Not that they're hot, just painful, like pins and needles all over. The doctor has them bandaged all up.” For some reason, she pulled up the blanket covering her legs to show off the medical gauze covering her feet and lower legs. It went up to her mid-calf and Aaron couldn’t help but cringe a little. It looked painful. He waited to see what _y/n_ was going to report about the doctor’s findings. He said her name, “_y/n_?” The woman in the bed came back to herself and said, “Dr. Jenings said I’d be out of the field for a few weeks, maybe three. The concussion and the fact that I can’t really walk sealed that deal pretty easily.” When _y/n_ finished, she bit the inside of her mouth. Aaron looked her over and saw the disappointment in her gaze. He knew that _y/n_ hated when she was out of the field. It had only happened once before when she got the flu very badly in December last year. She had been out for two cases and as badly she had felt, she still had Gacia fill her in on the case and called Emily or Derek once or twice a day. Aaron wanted to reprimand her, but he knew he would have done the same thing if he had been in her position. He had, however, texted her saying, “_y/n_ please take it easy.” Hotch felt the same way now, as he had then. He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. That really got _y/n_ to look at him, and he said, “This wasn’t your fault, _y/n_. There was nothing you could have done about this, and no one on the team or in the office is going to fault you for having to take a break.” _y/n_ looked a bit crestfallen but nodded anyway. Sometimes Aaron thought that _y/n_ felt like she had to right every wrong the world threw at her. Hotch knew that _y/n_ had a troubled past like every member of the BAU had a complicated past. He didn’t have all the details of her story, but he could sense that she felt pressure to show up. To be there a hundred percent of the time. Aaron knew how that felt. He knew what it meant to think that it was already too late. Hotch didn’t have a lot of time to think about it further as the nurse and Emily moved back into the space. Joan was holding a pair of crutches and for a moment Aaron thought that she must be joking. There was no way that this medical professional expected _y/n_ to get on her feet this soon after what she had been through Not after he and multiple doctors had seen the state of her feet.

Aaron’s concern was addressed shortly as Joan said, “Miss, _y/n_. This might seem counterintuitive, but we’re going to need you to try and get out and up on your feet as soon as possible. The doctor recommends it so that there isn’t a chance of thrombosis or blood clots. There’s also a chance for tautness of the surrounding skin. It will be incredibly painful, but we need you to try and walk as soon as you can for your well-being.” _y/n_ nodded. Aaron could see that she looked concerned at the request, but was trying to hide it from everyone. Maybe even herself. Joan gave _y/n_ an encouraging smile. The nurse said, “Good, well here are some clothes to change into for your release. Would you like me to stay behind and help you with that?” _y/n_ nodded and Joan asked Aaron and Emily to give them some privacy. As the duo moved outside, the rest of the team was waiting for them. Now Spencer and JJ were there as well and everyone asked Emily and Aaron what had happened. The pair did their best to explain what the nurse had said. It took a bit longer than expected. However, Hotch assumed a lot went into getting someone ready for that much pain. Aaron didn’t even want to think about it. He didn’t have to as a half-strangled sound could be heard coming from _y/n_’s room. The sound took the breath out of Hotch and he could see the rest of the team cringe. Garcia was so upset that she hugged Derek. Morgan took the analyst in his arms and covered her ears for her. There was a shuffling from inside the room and more pained noises. Hotch was biting down so hard on his tongue that he was sure it would bleed soon. The door was opened by Joan, and Aaron’s eyes snapped to _y/n_. She wasn’t even trying to look at any of them. Her brows were pulled so tight in pain that they were nearly touching. _y/n_ was leaning heavily on the crutches, gripping the handles with white knuckles. _y/n_ was taking labored breaths, as she moved unsteadily on her feet. She was looking at the ground only. Just at where her feet were meeting the floor. She had on some special shoes, thick black sandal-type things that accommodated the thick bandaging on her feet. The rest of the team moved to give her space and not have to see how pained she looked. But Aaron moved to her other side. It may hurt him to see _y/n_ this way, but it was clearly nothing to how she was feeling. And if his presence could provide even a modicum of comfort, then he would be there for her. Hotch stood on her right as she moved toward the door toward the check-out desk and the charge nurse. Aaron moved his hand behind _y/n_’s lower back. He didn’t make contact with her skin; his hand simply hovered over _y/n_’s shirt. It was a metaphorical helping hand. For one second, _y/n_ moved her eyes to his, and he could see that all the pain was still there, but there was a small bit of gratitude as well. _y/n_ wouldn’t be able to find the words to thank him. She wasn’t sure if she could for two reasons. First was the fact that even breathing seemed like an impossibility at the moment. The second reason was that the team was still around, even if they weren’t looking at her and Aaron. But _y/n_ had a feeling that if she opened her mouth more than a thank you would tumble out.

It took what felt like a very long time, though it was just around four minutes, for _y/n_, Joan, and Aaron to make it to the door. The nurse moved and held open the swinging doors for _y/n_ to get out of. Hotch’s train of thought was similar to _y/n_’s as she moved out into the lobby. He wondered if the team was scrutinizing his actions with _y/n_. If they were, and someone brought it up later, he would address it. For now, his attention was solely on _y/n_. Hotch was grateful that the staff at least let _y/n_ sit while she signed a few forms for her discharge. Emily also took on some papers and Joan also gave Prentiss a few file folders for the needed care steps for _y/n_’s recovery. Rossi moved forward and took the papers from Emily. When the paperwork was finished, Aaron looked over to Em and said, “I’ll drive you both to your apartment.” Prentiss nodded and Derek moved forward to get Prentiss's keys to drive her car to the front of the hospital. Aaron bent down and asked, can I give you a hand up?” _y/n_ looked up at him for the first real-time that day. She looked so tired but nodded her head yes. _y/n_ got her crutches ready to support her weight once she was on her feet again. Aaron bent down, placed his hands under her arms, and lifted her up. Once _y/n_’s weight was on her feet again, she made another pained sound, but this one was much smaller, just a little “mhm,” with an exhalation of breath. Hotch, _y/n_ and Em all moved to the sliding doors and out into the cold air. Hotch watched with a keen eye for any slick or ice spots on the sidewalk. Thankfully it was just a few feet from the hospital entrance to the waiting car. Derek got out of the driver's seat and along with Aaron, helped _y/n_ into the back seat. Hotch noticed the goosebumps from the chilly air on _y/n_’s skin, and he removed his jacket and handed it over as she gave him the crutches that didn’t quite fit in the backseat. Aaron watched with a tiny bit of warmth in him as _y/n_ slipped his oversized jacket over her frame. Em and Derek were talking quietly near the front of the car. Aaron moved to the trunk and placed the crutches there then moved to the front. Morgan stepped forward and asked, “Are you going back to the office after this?” Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. I’ll need to file some paperwork for _y/n_ and reach out to medical and see what timeline they have for time off in the field. However, if you or anyone else on the team needs the rest of the day off, I’d understand. Can you tell anyone else on the BAU team that?” Derek nodded and said, “Will do Hotch.” Morgan gave his arm a sturdy pat and as the built man turned to move back inside, Aaron called out saying, “Please drive safely, Morgan.” Derek looked back and caught his eye before he nodded and then moved back into the hospital.

Emily moved to sit in the back of the car with _y/n_. Em and took the injured woman’s hand in hers. Prentiss rubbed circles over _y/n_ thumb softly, providing a soft touch to distract and remind _y/n_ that she wasn’t alone. Aaron pulled out out of the crowded parking lot. He looked into the rearview mirror and saw _y/n_ leaning against Emily’s shoulder. Hotch asked, “_y/n_ how’s the temperature? Do you need it warmer?” _y/n_ just barely opened her eyes and said, “I’m good, thanks.” Aaron nodded, feeling bad that there wasn’t more he could do for her. It took about a half hour with traffic to get to Em’s townhouse in the center of the city. Emily got all of the files, and Aaron helped _y/n_ into the elevator, down the hallway, and finally to a seat on Emily’s couch. Emily turned on a single lamp and grabbed a glass of water for _y/n_. Prentiss took a bit longer in the kitchen than she needed, giving Hotch and her guest a few minutes of privacy. Hotch knelt and placed a hand on her left shoulder. He wanted to do so much more, to rub his hands over her arms, or stroke the profile of her face with the pad of this thumb. He wanted to dote on her, pick her up, put her to bed, and make sure there wasn’t any pain. But _y/n_ probably wouldn’t like that. She acted so strong on and off the field that he wasn’t sure that this kind of corporal affection would be appreciated. He also wasn’t sure his romantic feelings would be reciprocated either. It was one of the many reasons that he hadn’t said anything about his feelings for her. He couldn’t deny that he sensed a connection between them. Something physical and beyond. But perhaps he was reading into things. His brain going into hyperdrive in terms of profiler mood. His brain seemed to short-circuit sometimes when he was near _y/n_, but he was composed enough to hide it. Or at least he hoped he hid it. Aaron realized that he wasn’t saying anything, that his hand was lingering on _y/n_’s body. He looked at her, and she was staring at him. Her gaze seemed a bit distant, but _y/n_ was trying to focus on him. She opened her mouth and tried to say, “Hotch. I’m…” but Aaron stopped her saying, “Please don’t say you're fine, _y/n_. You were, are, in real pain, and you also went through something very traumatic. You don’t have to be brave right now. It’s okay.” That was all Aaorn could bring himself to say without it getting out of hand. A noise from the doorway had Hotch standing in an instant. Emily entered the room and placed the glass of water on the table next to the couch. Hotch softly said to _y/n_ alone, “Rest if you can, alright?” _y/n_ nodded and moved to take off his black blazer. Without really thinking about anything, or that Emily was standing right by him, he said, “You keep it for now. You can bring it back when you’re back in the office.” Aaron moved and unclipped his FBI badge that was still attached to his exterior breast pocket. He slipped the plastic into the back pocket of his trousers and moved away from _y/n_ reluctantly. He turned and Prenitss had a look on her face that spoke volumes without having to say a word. Aaron let out a little sigh, and he motioned for Emily to follow him a bit farther away from _y/n_. Hotch wasn’t ready to address whatever Em was thinking. Instead, he said in a steady voice, “Feel free to call me or text if you need me, or _y/n_ needs something. Anything. I’m just a few minutes away.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I’ll let you know. She’s going to be okay, Aaron. _y/n_’s a strong person.” Hotch nodded, not willing to address the look Emily was sending him. He moved out the door before anything else could happen.

The next morning, _y/n_ who had just changed her bandages and taken her antimicrobial and pain meds got a call from Aaron. _y/n_ picked up and tried not to give a groan of pain, as she raised her legs onto the bed. She answered, “Hey Hotch? What’s up?” There was a brief pause before Aaron said, “Just checking in. I have some news, but I want to hear how you’re feeling first. How was last night?” _y/n_ could hear that Hotch was using his office voice again. The tenderness that he had spoken to her with yesterday was still there, just veiled behind professionalism like normal. _y/n_ could picture him sitting behind his desk. His knees brushed the inside of his desk as it was just a bit too small for his lanky limbs. He wasn’t on his office phone, given he had called her on her cell. The image of him sitting, bathed in the soft lighting of his lamps was one she played out in her head often. He wasn’t exactly stationary in these thoughts, he was doing things other than paperwork or calling her to see if she wasn’t so battered and bruised. _y/n_ had to push those thoughts back. Now was not the time or the place. Even if her wildest fantasies were fulfilled, given the pain in her body was still feeling, none of those blissful ideas would be able to be completed. _y/n_ stifled a sigh, and instead replied, “It was okay given the circumstances. Things are still pretty painful and I understand what the doctor was saying about the long-lasting effects of a concussion now. My head and brain still haven’t seemed to reset to normal yet, but other than that, I feel as good as I can. Now tell me about your news. What did medical say?” _y/n_ was so familiar with the BAU procedures to not know why Hotch had been calling her. The medical board had gotten back to him to let Aaron know how long she medically needed to be out of the field. Hotch let out a big sigh and replied, “Well the med board looked over your files from yesterday and they’ve grounded you for three weeks, minimum. Given the concussion and the physical nature of being on the field, it’s not wise to have you back with us until then. When you get back after the three weeks, you’ll have to see medical to get cleared back to the field. _y/n_ couldn’t stop the long sigh that they let out while hearing the news. _y/n_ understood the need for her physical well-being, but being off gave her time to think. And if she thought too hard, her mind went to bad places, from the past and present. Working for the BAU mercifully kept her mind on other places and horrible scenarios. But now she was grounded and it sucked. There was a small silence before _y/n_ replied, “I understand.” She could hear Hotch click his pen, a habit of his that she noticed when Aaron was in the office. He would click his pen either on his wooden desk or with his thumb. Aaron took in a breath and said, “Try and rest while you can, _y/n_. You can call me or text me if you have any questions about your return to the field. And if you think you need more time, just let me know.” Hotch said the last sentence as a formality. He knew _y/n_ would be going stir-crazy after three days of not being at work. There was another silence, and _y/n_ asked, “Can I come into the office at least? Like after a week?” Aaron sat back and swallowed his emotion of concern for _y/n_. What more could he say than, “I can’t stop you from coming in the building, _y/n_.” They wrapped up the call shortly after that. _y/n_ closed her eyes for a minute and just tried to relax. In a few minutes, she was going to do her exercises to help with her recovery. It would be a long three weeks.

The team got called away on a case the next day. Thankfully _y/b/f_ was able to help _y/n_ who moved back to her apartment after Emily left for the new case in Vegas. Even though the lights twinkled and shone on the Vegas strip, and there was a highly unique case afoot - an unsub apparently leading people to poison themselves due to bankruptcy and gambling addictions - Hotch found it hard to keep his mind on the case. At the hotel the second night, he tried to find a lead, any lead that would help the team pinpoint more about this unsub. His brain drifted to _y/n_. He wondered what she was doing right now. It was 11:45 p.m. Any sensible person would be asleep given the chance. Maybe she was in her bed. Aaron had to stop himself there. He didn’t have sexual thoughts about _y/n_, at least not yet, but he was so tired that if he kept thinking about her, his brain might idle down that path. This, he would not allow. It was bad enough that he felt that he couldn’t even talk to _y/n_ he would feel infinitely worse if he started getting off to her too. He reflected on these feelings for a moment, how they had come to metastasize in him. From early on during their employment, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was someone who couldn’t be easily pushed or waived. When _y/n_ had committed to something, they stuck to it. Not that she was one to hang onto an idea or train of thought during a case like Rossi's. _y/n_ tried to be open-minded in that regard. But she had committed fully to the team since the day she signed on. That was the standard, the expectation for him, but _y/n_ sometimes felt over-committed. She would stay up all hours of the night trying to figure a piece of a case out. She relied heavily on his, Rossi's, and Emily’s experience in the field to catch up on facts or training that she might have missed in her previous placement. Aaron sensed that she was running from something given how hard she worked both in the field and the office. He hadn’t asked what that was, but Aaron could sense it. He had hoped that maybe one day she would tell him. But then their feelings toward each other had become more complex. It had happened during a brutal and long case in October last year. It involved kids which was always the worst to deal with for him. The team had been working non-stop until Aaron had essentially ordered them to get some rest. Everyone had moved into their rooms to pretend to sleep and an hour later Aaron was moving down the hall to run a theory by Rossi. He had passed _y/n_’s room and heard crying inside. It wasn’t loud, but he could hear it distinctly. The sobs coming from inside ripped at his heart like a knife. He had knocked and the crying stopped momentarily. _y/n_ had moved to the door, unlocked both bolts, and removed the security chain. Aaron could hear the metal rubbing against each other. When _y/n_ had opened the door, she moved back to let him in. She turned her face as if to hide the pain there from him. Aaron gently took hold of her hand, and she finally looked at him. Softly he asked, “What’s the matter _y/n_? Is it the case? Has something personal happened?” _y/n_ bit the side of her mouth trying to stop the tears from coming again. But she couldn’t, and as she started shaking and crying again Aaron moved forward and took her in his strong arms. She leaned into him; really leaned into him for the first time. He had never seen her so vulnerable before and as he asked, “Please tell me what’s bothering you,” and her enigmatic reply of, “I just can’t Aaron. I can’t;” had changed everything. Because at that moment Hotch would have done just about anything to make _y/n_ feel better. To free her of whatever pain she was feeling. Whatever emotions were plaguing her? And when _y/n_ had stopped crying, and Aaron pulled away, she could see it in his eyes, and she wanted that from him just as badly as he wanted to give it; thus their fates were sealed, because this relationship, or hope at one couldn’t happen, and yet Hotch yearned for it. Thought about it nearly every time he looked at her.

Thankfully Aaron’s brain did manage to think of something besides _y/n_, and that was Rossi. Whenever he got stuck, he’d go and see Dave to see what the pro had noticed that he might have missed. It was helpful having someone older than him on the team for Hotch to turn to. Aaron pushed himself out of the bed and slipped on his tennis shoes. He padded down the hall and as he moved forward, Emily stepped out of her room in front of him. Prentiss was on the phone and said, “Yeah the team’s okay. I’d love to be spending a week in Vegas just for fun. How’d you feel coming here during Spring Break some year? You, me, Morgan, and Penelope…” There was a pause and Em continued, “You got it, Baby. Sin to Win.” Hearing this, Aaron actually laughed. He tried to disguise it as a cough but didn’t succeed. Prentiss turned on her heel and relaxed when she realized it was just him. She gave him a bit of a joking disapproving glare at him eavesdropping. Hotch could never not laugh when Emily said, “Sin to Win.” He was still unaware of the connotation or story associated with the phrase, but it never failed to make him laugh. It just sounded so strange coming from someone as polite and proper as Em. He pointed at the phone pressed to her ear and whispered, “Who is it?” He already knew, but Emily indulged him and mouthed, “_y/n_.” Aaron nodded and mouthed back, “Tell her to go to bed.” Prentiss rolled her eyes and said into the phone, “Someone has someone has something to say to you, _y/n_.” Without further ado, Em removed the phone from her ear and pressed it into Hotch’s hands. Aaron flushed red and looked at Emily like a deer in headlights, but Em crossed her arms and just looked at him as if saying, “Do it yourself.” After what felt like a bit too long, Aaron pulled the cell to his ear and said in an embarrassed tone, “Hey, _y/n_. Ummm… maybe you should be getting some rest?” The was a beat of silence, and _y/n_ let out a soft breath at hearing Aaron suddenly on the other end of the line. She replied, “I am resting, I’m in bed right now watching _y/f/s_. I feel so rested that I’m even planning my next vacation. Emily is promising me ‘Sin to Win’ in Vegas in the Spring.” Hotch had to stifle some sort of sound from coming out of his mouth at the rather wild and lurid image his brain came up with in association with _y/n_ and Em’s new favorite phrase. He coughed once and said, “Well good, just don’t get ahead of yourself. Rest well _y/n_.” With that, he quickly handed the phone back to Emily and moved down the hallway, well aware that his agent could see how flustered he was. As Aaron made his retreat, Em pulled the phone back to her ear and said, “It’s me again.” As Prentiss slipped into her room, she smiled. It was fortuitous that she had stepped out of her room when she had. Prentiss, JJ, Rossi, and even Morgan had started waiting for bated breath for something to happen between _y/n_ and Aaron. At this point, Emily was willing to push things in that direction if she had to, and tonight had been a clear, successful first step.

The case in Nevada wrapped up. Hotch was always glad to be headed home, but in this case, he was especially glad. It meant that he could check up on _y/n_ The team decompressed, and a few days into the next week, _y/n_ stopped by the office. _y/n_ sat next to Spencer and Derek talking about the latest case and what she had missed. Hotch clocked her grabbing at one of Morgan’s files, but he swooped in and took it from her hands, turned it over, and set it firmly back on Derek’s desk. _y/n_ pouted at him slightly, and both Spencer and Derek looked away. Hotch and _y/n_ were acting differently than they had before. Aaron had realized after the accident that life was too short and fickle for him to be playing around. The thought of _y/n_ being in a worse situation than being dragged from her car just in time was something that was going to stay with him for a long time. So even if he couldn’t say anything, he was going to at least act a bit more involved. Hotch viewed this like a soft launch, though to the rest of the team, it looked like ten massive steps forward. No one on the team was going to say anything about it though. They were just grateful that something was happening between them. Hotch also started acting like this to see if _y/n_ wanted this like he assumed she did. If she wasn’t interested in his advances then he would stop instantly. This was only his first day seeing her, and he was trying to still act natural, but he couldn’t deny the rush he felt when she looked at him like this. She feigned disappointment at him taking the file she had, but a genuine happiness to see him again. Aaron’s thoughts were shattered as Penelope's voice cut through his mental fog. Hotch turned to look at the small landing that connected the bullpen to the upper level of the floor the BAU was housed on. Garcia said, “The fam is home, _y/n_ is here, and everything is right with the world.” No one on the team acknowledged that their very jobs meant that the world was a horrible, awful, depraved place. But it was the thought that counted. Aaron moved aside to make room for Garcia in the little huddle of agents. He moved to the edge of the staircase, hesitant to move away. He listened in on the conversation the group was having. He pretended to look over one of his own files, even though he wouldn’t normally do that down in the bullpen. He at least pretended like he was missing a paper as he rifled through his full folder. He listened in on Garcia and asked, “So what’s with you and your friend getting into a fight? What happened there?” _y/n_ gave a small sigh at the question, but replied, “It’s this damn concussion. Some things, like the lights or certain sounds, just seem to set me off. I apologized, profusely, and we made up, but it’s just annoying that such little things are bothering me. It makes me feel like I’m not in control. I hate that.” Aaron actually started moving up the stairs as Spencer started going on a tangent about concussion symptoms and car crashes, while Pen leaned down and kissed the top of _y/n_’s head.

A full week elapsed and _y/n_ met with medical and took a physical to clear her for the field. _y/n_ was still walking awkwardly, but they were out of the heavy bandaging and her feet and legs had healed well given the care she took with her body and recovery. Aaron was forwarded the medical report from Dr. Sujedia recommending _y/n_ take off a few more days. Aaron had called _y/n_ to his office to discuss the results. _y/n_ sat down and did her best to look tough and undisturbed. Unbothered by the results of the test. Aaron looked over the papers and said, “As you know, Dr. Ramirez recommends another three to four days of rest. I’m prepping a new case with JJ this afternoon and I want your opinions on your condition. How are you feeling?” _y/n_ was honest with Hotch, knowing that was the best guarantee that they would be allowed onto the next case. She said, “My head’s still bothering me, and I don’t think my legs are down for a chase on foot right now, but I can just sit in the background. I can listen to and organize files in the precinct. I can work with JJ and do a geographical profile, or…” Aaron cut her off with a small raise of his hand from his desk. He knew she was trying to prove that she could still be an asset to the team, even if she couldn’t do all of the physically demanding aspects of the job. Hotch thought it over for a moment. He knew that _y/n_ would be upset if he said no. He saw the determined look on her face. Reluctantly he gave a nod. At least if she was with the team he could look over her. Not that she wanted that exactly, but it would make him feel better. He dismissed _y/n_ shortly after he reminded her that she was to take it easy on the case, doing work that would let her rest her body. He watched as she gave him a big smile and walked out the door. She was so happy that she didn’t even try to hide the little limp she had while walking on her tender feet. Once _y/n_ was back in the bullpen talking animatedly to Emily, he moved over to Garcia’s office. He knocked on the door once before he entered the dim space. Penelope looked up from her three monitors and asked, “What’s up Hotch?” Aaron leaned against the door and replied, “How many times did she visit you while we were away?” The ‘she’ in question didn’t need to be named before Pen said, “Just twice, but I didn’t ask her to Hotchy. I swear she came of her own accord.” Hotch’s set into a firm line for a second before he said, “Alright, well don’t encourage it, at least until she’s a bit better.” He added very softly, “She looks worn out.” Pen smiled gently and could see the concern on her supervisor's face. Garcia replied, “Pinky promise. We’ll take care of her.” Aaron nodded ever so slightly and then moved out of the technical den and toward JJ’s office.

The next case was in North Carolina at the private post-secondary school, High Point University. So far four male students that were all athletes had been found strangled on the school grounds. A panic had set in from the students, faculty, and most annoyingly the donors to the small campus. There was an obvious tie with all of the students being men and athletes. Though different sports had been targeted, not just a single athletic pursuit. There was also the option that scholarships could take a part in the murders as two of the three men killed had been on athletic scholarships that semester. As the team bounced ideas off of each other on the plane ride, _y/n_ said, “There are some wealthy alumni from Highpoint. Maybe this is some wild Operation Varsity Blues type of situation?” As always Spencer took off with this idea and how nepotism could be as real a motivator for murder as rage or shame might be. Aaron looked over his team from his spot near the front of the jet. It felt good to have _y/n_ back, even if in the pit of his stomach he felt concerned about throwing her back in the field like he was. Granted she had asked, but even so, he was still concerned. When they got to the university, JJ immediately started working with the campus media team to get a consistent message out. Hotch moved to speak with the University Police Department and Rossi went to the local station. Hotch took Morgan and _y/n_ with him, while Rossi had Spencer and Emily moved to the downtown police station. Things continued to move quickly as they always did on a case. The team made a basic profile. By the end of the day, due to the unsub clearly being young, or at least mentally young, they had made plenty of mistakes that were easy to pick up on. Unfortunately, the campus's UPD wasn’t used to murder’s happening on their territory and was overwhelmed by the student and parent response. The day unfolded with the team creating a profile and trying to stay as low-key as possible. Because the BAU was the BAU it was clear to the students that something was happening. This meant that the unsub was also likely aware of the presence of the FBI, pulled back, and might stop their killing spree. This would be a good thing except that once the BAU was gone, they could simply start killing again. Therefore, the team started canvassing the campus. Sitting in on big lecture classes and speaking to faculty. The team assumed that the unsub was a student first. Secondly, they assumed that the student was not an athlete, and potentially a student who had to retake a year or even more of coursework at the university.

_y/n_ was trying to listen to her body and abide by Hotch’s request that she take it easy. She had sat in a large mirco-economics class with Spencer and watched as the genius took so many notes. Covering over twenty pages as Dr. Reid wrote furiously about economic theory, where the Professor was wrong, where the textbook, which Spencer quickly read before class was incorrect. All _y/n_ could think of was that she was glad she was not that professor, or that she would ever have a class with Spencer as the instructor -- she knew she would fail the course on entry. After that, _y/n_ moved to the UPD’s department and went through piles and piles of non-sexual assault claims. If the unsub was a supersenior, there could be over six years' worth of reports to look through. She spent most of the day looking over these reports. The next day, _y/n_ spent a good deal of the morning with JJ, fielding concerns from students, bursars, and faculty members who asked questions. The pair also held some interviews with a few students that had caught the team's interest the day before. Although the interviews didn’t reveal much, but they gave _y/n_ an idea about something she read yesterday in a report. _y/n_ didn’t mind doing this kind of clerical work, but it was harming her current condition. Being under such harsh fluorescent lights was making her head swim. It was also putting their temper on edge. The last interview where a young sophomore had scratched his head incessantly and said, “Um,” “Like,” or “And” every other word had put _y/n_ pushed something in her like an itch that desperately needed to be scratched, but there was no actual, physical place to relieve the annoyance. _y/n_ was desperately looking forward to being cooped up alone in the files room looking for that one folder that she was thinking of. It would be killing two birds with one stone. It could be potentially helpful to the team, and it would give her a moment to decompress and let out her annoyed feelings. Just as _y/n_ was getting ready to leave, Hotch showed up and asked JJ and her about their progress. Mercifully JJ answered for both of them. When Aaron turned his gaze to her, she said, “JJ’s right. We haven’t found much with what we’ve looked at this morning. However, there’s a file I remember standing out at the UPD. I was going to head there now actually.” Aaron nodded. He turned to JJ quickly and said, “Keep up the good work here. Call me if you find anything useful. The smallest scrap of information could be helpful now.” JJ smiled at Hotch and said, “You got it, Hotch.” Next, Aaron turned to _y/n_ and said, “I’ll walk you there.” _y/n_ nodded and followed after him as he opened the door for her. Aaron could tell that something was happening with _y/n_. He couldn’t pin it down yet, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. The day was unimaginably hot given that it was November. The campus was also sprawling and had lots of external stairs. The UPD and the file storage center were almost a mile apart. As the pair moved down yet another set of stairs. _y/n_ felt that she was so hot. The sun felt like it was beating down on her relentlessly. As _y/n_ took another step down, she felt her ankle buckle and her mind went blank as her body swooned toward the concrete steps.

Aaron could feel that something was wrong as he and _y/n_ moved down yet another set of steps. Halfway down those steps, he looked over to _y/n_. Her breathing was shallowed and despite being in the direct sun, her skin looked shallow. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and _y/n_’s body crumpled dangerously quickly toward the hard, sharp steps. For a millisecond, Aaron felt like he was back at the scene of the wreck, but this time he could do something in the moment. He wasn’t powerless. So, Aaron moved his left leg down two steps and positioned his body and arms to catch _y/n_’s limp body. When he caught her, she let out an exhalation at the harsh contact of her body colliding with his. Aaron bent down slightly and used his other arm to pull up under _y/n_’s legs. He gave a soft grunt as he took _y/n_’s full weight in his arms. Hotch moved carefully down the steps and glared at any students who threw him an intrigued or concerned look as he held _y/n_ close to his chest. Aaron moved to a flat portion of the path that was covered. He spotted a bench that was shaded by a large tree. Hotch quickly moved in that direction, and _y/n_ started to stir in his arms; her eyes slowly opening. Aaron got to the bench and sat down with _y/n_ nestled in his lap. He brushed a hand over her cheek, as she fully came to her faculties. _y/n_ gave a small groan and asked, “Wha’ happened?” _y/n_’s slurred speech worried him. Hotch replied, “You fainted, _y/n_. You really could have been hurt if you were walking alone.” Aaron couldn’t veil his concern. Not now. He added, “I’m worried about you, _y/n_.” _y/n_ looked up at him, not fully aware that Hotch’s hand was in her hair, and his heart rate was beating out of his chest with concern. _y/n_ tried to get her vision to clear. The pain in her head from the lights and the heat was still causing her pain and she replied in a tone that she wanted to sound exasperated, but it really just came out like a snap, saying, “Why do you even care?” And once the words were out and the tone became apparent, her vision cleared and she saw Aaron fully, and the look of love and care for her overwhelmed her. In a breathy voice, one that was starting to be overcome with tears, she said, “I didn’t mean that, Aa…” Her voice was strangled by tears and Hotch pulled her close to his body. His head rested on top of hers as he said, “I know. I know you didn’t mean it that way. I know.” And as Aaron held her, she did know he knew. That he knew it all. At that moment she wouldn’t fight him. All she wanted was for him to hold her and help with the pain. He had at the hospital. Even being near him made her feel better. They stayed there for a few moments and Aaron said, “I’m taking you back to the hotel. You need rest and don’t even try to fight me on this. You mean too much to me to be having on the field right now.” _y/n_ nodded and shifted to stand, but Aaron stopped her with a large hand, saying, “You’re not walking right now in this heat. I’ll carry you to the SUV.” _y/n_’s mouth fell open slightly and said, “Aaron I can do it.” Hotch nodded his head no, replying, “I’m not having you move down all those stairs again. The car is only two lots, over. Now if I hold you like I did before, will it hurt your legs at all?” _y/n_ swallowed and softly said, “No. It won’t hurt me.” Aaron nodded and readjusted his hands again. Carefully picked her up again. He moved quickly to the SUV. He set _y/n_ down and got pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors. Once _y/n_ was seated and buckled, he turned on the AC. The ride to the motel was short with Aaron just shooting Rossi and Em a text saying that he’d be back in a half hour or so.

_y/n_ was grateful that Aaron let her walk to her own room. As much as she liked Hotch’s touch and gentle care he had when he had carried her, she had her dignity and desire to still be able to care for herself. In her room, Aaron looked over at her bed. _y/n_ didn’t even care as she pulled off her blazer, slipped off her shoes, and laid back on the bed. While she was doing this, Aaron turned off the overhead light and turned on a lamp instead. He puttered with the air conditioning so that it wasn’t freezing, but not too hot either. He then moved to the window messing with the curtains even though the blackout curtain and decorative curtain were clearly closed. Hotch did this because he didn’t know what to say. Finally, _y/n_ called him. It was a voice she had rarely used with him. It was vulnerable, needy, scared even? When Aaron looked at _y/n_ he saw the desire in her face, a look that must have been the one he had on his own face as he covered her body on the freezing road, and as he carried her to the bench just a few minutes earlier. Aaron was drawn to her and sat on the edge of the bed as _y/n_ said, “Aaron. I like you. I have for a long time. I’m sorry if this fucks everything up between us, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to say anything. But I have to say something.” At this, she stopped and looked at him concerned that she might have ruined everything. Aaron leaned forward, ran his left hand through her hair again, and rested his forehead against hers. He felt such a reprieve at her words. He closed his eyes and said, “I like you too, _y/n_. I’ve been a coward about my feelings and your still here being brave after everything that’s happened to you this month. For a few minutes, I thought I’d lost you and I’m never going to let that happen again. At least where I can. I want to be with you.” _y/n_ gave a little hum and placed a hand on his chest. Knowing that she wasn’t delusional for desiring Aaron suddenly made all her pain seem to fade into the background. His breath on her face was comforting, and she opened her eyes a bit. She shifted up a bit and gave his mouth a peck. At this, Hotch opened his eyes. He gave her a soft smile and moved his mouth more needily over hers. As they shared that kiss, they were both grateful for the other. For the comfort that was to be had now and in the future. There was a lot to be said later, but for now, their love and lips said everything that needed to be at the moment. _y/n_ closed her eyes and let the moment linger. _y/n_’s hand found its way to his chest, placed it over his heart, and felt its steady beat under her palm. _y/n_ closed her eyes and as they continued to kiss, she was certain that she would know anywhere. No matter how they were challenged and pulled, she would always know and love him, and this was just the start of that journey.

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