#i have worked at LEAST six days a week-sometimes even seven-for TEN MONTHS
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Emerald Gem||Chapter Five
Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight||Chapter nine|Chapter ten (finale!)|
Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader
Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.
Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff
Word count: 1.7k
Unedited
"How much longer do we have to keep walking?"
The group was extremely sick and exhausted, walking miles and miles along the forest. When Jimin had no more energy left, the youngest carried him on his back. The pack leader was fearful of the government coming to find them, so during the day they walked nonstop. And when the sun would finally rest, they would rest in the nearest cave or by the tallest tree.
"Until we make it to some water", Joon claimed, ears perked to listen for the closest stream. "I can hear it. We're almost there."
"We wouldn't have had to run, y'know..." Jimin was absentmindedly whispering his thoughts, delirious from lack of sleep.
"I miss her", Tae whined. "And I miss the food, and the comfy bed, and the little chickens..."
Namjoon ignored their complaints, keeping the same pace. He was just as sick and tired as they were, but his love for his pack kept him strong. Now matter how much they tried to convince him to stay, it didn't work. But they couldn't blame him- Namjoon has been burned before.
And he wasn't gonna let it happen again.
Justin didn't like taking the bus. The older kids always made fun of him. Plus, his school was only a couple of minutes away from home if he took the shortcut. So everyday afterschool he would hop the fence behind the school and take left and right turns through the alleyways to get home.
Until one day where he met a little wolf hybrid. Justin had stumbled upon the little guy next to a dumpster in the alley. He was frail and weak looking. His short was torn, his pants were jagged, and the soles of his feet were black.
"Hey little guy", Justin whispered, slowly walking up to the wolf as to not startle him. However it did quite the opposite.
"Please!" He screamed. "I'll go but please don't hurt me!"
With that, Justin backed away. "I'm not gonna hurt you- promise!" The hybrid stood on his feet with haste, getting ready to make a fast exit.
But Justin didn't wanna let him go.
"Are you lost? Do you need some help?" That's when he realized Justin wasn't coming for him- he probably didn't even know who he was.
"N-no. Im f-fine", he whispered, making his way to the kind human who offered to help him. "Just please don't tell anyone I'm here-please." He got down on his knees and pleaded.
"I won't, I swear. But, you can't stay here. Whoever you're hiding from will find you as easily as I did."
The hybrid thought for a second, pondering over his next moves. He's probably been on the run his whole life. His street smarts are probably beyond compare. At least, that's what Justin thought.
"I have nowhere to go..." He whispered. "My family... they're dead. They're all dead- and I'm alone."
It was like looking in a mirror. Justin had found someone just like him. Parentless, scared, afraid. He had a feeling he could help. "You can come stay with me for a while", he offered.
And just like that- he found himself stepping into Justins small apartment. It was cramped, but it's all Justin could afford so he made it work. They lived together for month before Justin finally asked what his name was.
"Namjoon", he replied. "My name is Kim Namjoon, and I'm wanted for murder."
***
Some of the food in your fridge had spoiled. Just to prevent from wasting you walked miles away to the nearest neighbor and gave them all of your leftovers. It been a couple weeks since the guys had left, and you were feeling lost-empty. You knew who they were. You knew what people called him. You knew they were wanted by the government, but it didn't stop you from taking them in.
And even though they hadn't stayed long, it was hard to imagine what life was like without them- especially when you had already imagined a life with them.
When it was time to rest your head, you would walk by their rooms and whisper goodnight. But even though no one was there, the ghost of them always replied back, "goodnight, sweet dreams."
Every now and then you swear you hear laughing downstairs, the sound of Hoseok rolling around in the grassy field, or even the sound of Taehyung flipping the page of a good book. Every now and then, while making dinner, you feel a presence creep up behind you asking "Can I just have one bite? How will I know if it's good if I don't try it?" Jungkook loved to sneak bits of supper before it was ready.
The feeling made you queasy, and it brought tears to your eyes. It made you anxious, so you watched the new every night in hopes that they hadn't been caught. Because, even though they didn't want to stay with you, you sure as hell weren't going to let the researchers have them.
You had already made that mistake once before.
Your birthday party was absolutely amazing! Your friends were there, all of your family came. Even the gifts were memorable. However, something was missing. Your nine year old self couldn't put your finger on it, but something seemed off about that day. It felt as though you were at someone else's birthday party, like the party wasn't for you.
If wasn't until you got older that you realized that it was true- it wasn't technically your birthday party. It was your birthday- that part it true. However, the party was your father's. It was your father's friends, it was their children. They were never your friends. No one would even notice if you weren't there.
So you left.
By your house was a lake, a peaceful lake where all you could hear was the wind blowing through the trees. That's where you snuck off to that night. That's where you met Mina. She was a wolf- the most beautiful wolf you might ever have seen (the only wolf at that time). Her fur was pure white with specks of gray, and her eyes shimmered in the moonlight. One might've been afraid of her, but you certainly were not. She could tell.
"You come here often, Don't you?" The wolf could speak. For some reason, that didn't scare you either. "From the trees, I notice you come hear to wipe your tears. What's bothering you?"
"I'm alone", you whispered, audibly enough for her to hear. "I don't think I'm supposed to exist. All the signs point against it." You laid in the grass, picking piece to fiddle with. Telling your secrets to a total stranger wasn't the best option. But for you, it was the only option.
"Don't speak such words", she scolded. "Close your eyes. I wanna show you a secret."
You obeyed, shutting your eyes as tight as you could. Out of nowhere, great winds blew and the ground shook.
"Now, open."
She was gone. She vanished, right in front of you. The wolf had vanished, and what replaced it was even more beautiful. Her hair was silver. Her eyes were green. She clothed her self in leaves- fitted like a dress.
"Happy birthday, pup", she smiled. Your eyes began to shed tears. She was the first person to wish you happy birthday- Not even your parents did so.
"T-thank you", you sniffled. "I'm Y/n." She patted your head, the same way your mother once did. It was comforting. Here she was, a total stranger, and she's given you more attention than your mother has in a long time. It entranced you, to the point of laying your head on her
"I know", She sighed. "The nights not going so well, is it?"
You nodded. "When does it ever? I'm nine and feel like I'm an adult- so much I haven't done with so much responsibility."
Daciana was her name, a quite beautiful name. You told her all your fears and she held you close. She comforted you when no one else would.
You will never forgive yourself for what happened to her...
***
The cave was cold, almost icy. Jin wanted to light a fire but Joon was strongly against it. "That'll make us an easy target", he scolded.
Jimin laid flat on his back, having no neck or back support. He thought of you. What are you doing right now? What may you be wearing? He dreamed of the dinner you might be cooking.
Does she even care that we're gone?
Jungkook was trying his best to keep Hobi's fever down, but it continued to rise. Taehyung was in excruciating pain. Yoongi was absolutely delirious and Joon could hardly breathe, choosing the solid ground as the best place to rest.
"Joon, we can't go on like this", Jin begged. It hurt him to see his pack in so much pain. It hurt even more to know the cause of it was his pack alpha.
He heaved, trying to get back on his two feet with no avail. "What else can we do? The minute we think we're safe, we'll will be taken. You know this! Where can we possibly go?"
"Back home", Jimin mumbled, using the last bits of his energy. "I wanna go back home, to Y/n."
"Me too", Kook whispered just audible enough to hear. The rest of the pack agreed, sharing their sentiments- everyone except Namjoon. While everyone whined and groaned, he laughed exasperatedly.
"Are you guys serious? She would've turned us over to the authors the minute she found out who we really are! How many times do I have to tell you this? You cannot trust humans."
Jin was fed up. He was sick, exhausted, and lonely. And he was done following orders.
"What do you think you're doing?" The pack watched Jin as he put Jimin on his back, heading towards the entrance of the cave.
"We're going home, Joon..." Jimin struggled to keep his eyes open, but a smile was plastered on his face. It was hard to miss his excitement, even if it was a little hard for him to express. "Anyone who wants to come can come, but I'm tired of living in fear."
He continued, pointing towards his alpha. "Let me know when you're done too. You know where to find us."
And with that, the six pack member left the dark and empty cave, leaving Namjoon alone with his thoughts.
What am I gonna do now? He thought.
-
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Taglist!
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Ticking Time Bomb (Fem!MCXBeel/Belphie)
This was requested by a friend of mine, and I figured I'd post it.
MC occasionally has a hell of a time on her period, and the brothers now have a protocol to make life as easy as possible <3
Fuzzy comfort fic with the twins, happy reading :)
One would think, that in the home of Seven Demon Lords, the little human would be the less frightening of the bunch, at least, to the naked eye.
On most days, one would be right to assume MC the most harmless of the bunch. Master of them all or not, she's not as quick to anger as Satan, or as sadistic as Lucifer.
Most days, she's the diplomatic eye of the storm, but every now and again, mother nature will turn their sweet human into a beast to rival Cerberus in ferocity.
It doesn't happen every month, sometimes, her bleeding will come and go and no one will be the wiser except for the occasional wince from the poor human. However, once in a while, their sweet human becomes an absolute demon.
It starts with a warning, her scowl in the mornings that doesn't lift no matter how much coffee or sweets she's handed. Nothing can make her smile before ten, and even then, it's an effort.
When this happens, the brothers all brace for impact, because they know none will be safe, except the two lucky exception.
The twins.
Beel and Belphie are the only two demons spared, not even Diavolo is safe from saying the wrong thing around MC when she's just downright miserable.
"MC, I seem to have misplaced those documents you sent me, would you be so kind as to fill them out again?"
Normally, Diavolo's request would be met with a quiet sigh at worst, perhaps a light-hearted eye-roll and a warning that she wouldn't be able to get it done so quickly.
On Death Week?
"I'm up to my ears in school work, find the old ones or get my deadlines extended." She snipped, not outwardly rude but...short tempered, in a tone that warns Diavolo that she's not in a giving mood.
"I, see." The prince casts Lucifer a pleading look, begging for help because he's got a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to MC during Death Week, six months ago, he'd received a glare so lethal it chilled his very bones.
The other brothers cast each other glances, Asmodeus pulled out his calendar, and winced, quietly confirming what many already knew.
Sadly, Lucifer didn't catch the warning soon enough, and planted his heavy foot firmly on the wafer thin ice of MC's patience.
"Watch your tone, MC, or you may find your deadlines shortened instead."
It would have been a poor choice of words at the best of times, MC never took well to Lucifer's "discipline", and it showed, as she fixed him with a look to melt the flesh from a shadow-hog's bones.
"I fucking dare you, Lucifer."
The eldest's eyes went wide, and his brothers' panicked (and Asmo's frantic waving of his DDD's calendar) soon reminds him.
Satan clears his throat, eyes darting to one of the only demons with the capacity to save them from the fury boiling under the human's skin.
She's doing her best, they know she is, she's still their beloved MC, and she'd grin and bear the pain and roiling hormones if they let her, but watching her struggle to make a coherent thought past whatever haze she's stuck in is downright painful.
Beel is quietly shuffling to his feet, Belphie close behind him, and as the sixth born offers his hand and a sweet smile, the tension in MC's shoulders melts.
Diavolo is already writing up excuses for three absences while Beel has quietly scooped up MC and carries her wordlessly out of the room, with Belphie holding open the door for him.
"She must be incredibly uncomfortable, for it to affect her so." Barbatos mused in their wake. "I'm glad I restocked the herbal tea she likes."
Lucifer nodded his agreement, still shaking off the glare his human sent him. Is this how his brothers feel?
As the meeting carried on in their wake, the twins got MC back to the House of Lamentation, and began the regular process of spoiling their human when she needed it most.
Beel set her on his bed first, placing the gentlest kiss to her forehead as he set her down.
"You don't need to do this every time." She muttered bashfully, hating that she can't make herself be normal at times like these, it's like her body conspires against her. "I can handle it."
Beel's big hands, roughened with callouses, cup her cheeks, lifting her chin so he can kiss her forehead again, his words a soft whisper against her skin. "We know you can."
"You shouldn't have to." Said Belphie, making his way to the bed with a set of her comfortable clothes that she always left in their room. "As fun as it would be to watch you bite Lucifer and Lord Diavolo's heads off. We are not going to sit and watch you struggle through the day when we can do something about it."
Beel pulled away, replaced by Belphie's knowing hands helping her out of her uniform while Beel left for the kitchen to get snacks.
Belphie's warm lips chased his hands over every new exposed patch of skin, kisses that raised gooseflesh down her arms long after he's replaced her uniform with soft cotton.
He changed himself, and slid into bed beside her, letting her settle however she was comfortable before curling around her, long fingers finding their way under her shirt to press warm palms to her lower belly.
"Does it hurt?" He asked softly, mindlessly tracing patterns over her skin. "Sometimes it doesn't, right?"
MC nodded, wondering if she's turned two of the Devildom's highest ranking demons into menstrual experts.
"It got worse the more I moved, my legs feel...treacherous."
One hand wandered away from her soft belly, down to her thigh, gently needing the plush skin beneath her shorts.
"How exactly does anyone expect you to function like this?" The seventh rasped, already half asleep, lazily snuggling into her back, breath tickling her neck in that gentle rhythm that lulled her tumultuous body into rest. Slowly, tight muscles began to unwind and release, toes uncurling as she pressed her back into his chest.
Still, she couldn't sleep, her fingers tangling and untangling the golden sheets until Beel tip-toed back into the room, arms completely laden with food that did not fit on the bedside table.
She smiled at the gentle giant as he held out two of her favourite snacks: one savoury, one sweet.
MC took her pick, and lifted her head so Beel could sit up beside her, his thigh serving as the perfect pillow.
He flicked on the TV, letting it drone on in the background as he occasionally fed her or Belphie from his own snack pile.
In these moments, MC could want for nothing, for when a cramp did strike her hard enough to make her breath hitch, Belphie was already rubbing away the pain, Beel's fingers stroking her hair to distract her as wave after wave rolled away.
She had nowhere to be, nothing to wish for but for her two sweet demons, lovingly dotting on her without judgement. They know she could handle herself just fine, they know she's done it her entire life, and she'll likely do it again, but for now, neither of them is willing to let her go through that pain alone.
#obey me x mc#obey me x female mc#obey me beel#obey me belphie#beel x mc x belphie#obey me twins x mc#beelzebub x mc x belphegor
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i went to the metro all by myself for the second time. i love being by myself and travelling. i went to a market via metro. for that i needed to switch lines.
but
what i wanted to talk about was the guy i met at the metro. i was riding back home, maybe seven stations to go. by that point id been standing, and losing the empty seat olympics thus far, jostling a bit and trying to steady my feet as a result of the loss.
from the corner of my eye i see a space open up,between two men. i play this game with myself where i challenge myself to sit between two men in the metro. my act of microfeminism to a level id like to call it. i get to manspread, keep a bitch face, and stare back at all the men that stare at me. its the least aggresive thing one can do after being catcalled, gestured the most vulgar things a person can receive while walking on the streets, in my humble opinion.
as i sit down, my knees finally getting rest after having walked around six kilometres, i took out the bottle of water id bought from the streets. i drink the last few sips, and involuntarily make the sounds of my lip smacking followed by an 'aahh'. i smile to myself.
i wouldnt say i was snooping, but the man next to me quite literally had his phone face up, with full brightness, playing a song from an artist i like. he's wearing a shirt and jeans, with the signature bagpack that screams 'i work at another company that has saturated in the IT industry'. he wears frameless glasses, looks to be in his thirties.
i glance over a few times, just to check but also mostly to indicate to the man that i recognise this song. i cant stop smiling. its not often i find a similar taste in music, and even less often on a crowded metro of a city i barely know. id like to believe im a generally sociable person. in the sense that once a day somebdy asks me the direction to a place, instructions to some action. im also never afraid to help them, infact i love it.
i pull out my phone, excited to text my best friend of this news. she urges me to ask the guy and so i do. it goes something liek this
"hey is this xyz artist?"
he painstakingly removes his earphones. i know people get pissed when theyre listening to music and are disturbed. but i didnt care i nthat moment, i felt the need to know and know and know.
"uh, yeah" he gives me a small smile.
"do u usually listen to this genre?"
"yup"
and i know i shouldve backed off there. i nod with a smile and go back to updating my best friend. i tell her how i love people, these mundane things that form daily routines of every person, that makes them so... them. it warms my heart. its the same feeling i feel when i see children, or old people, or friends.
so i open my Spotify and suggest a song to him. he plays it on his phone, bobbing hsibheas up and down. I'm smiling more because I thjnk of how he'd have to pretend to like it even if he doesn't as much. he tells me he likes it and asks for another suggestion. so I put him on another artist.
"what are u doinf currently?"
"I jut graduated school. planning to join college in a month or two. what about u?"
"haha. in just another IT job." he tells me, with this tone of surrender and 'it is what it is". with some sort of uncertain and embarrasing finality in his tone. i see, I tell him.
we go back to listening to our own music. i don't tell him where in from, or where I stay. I know better not to indulge in those details. I don't even know his name and neither does he, mine.
I know I took him by surprise in the beginning. but I think I love tht about people. maybe it's weird or sadistic or creepy. but I love talking to people. I love getting to know someone. mostly. and he seemed harmless enough.
"well, if was nice to meet u!" he tells me before getting off his stop, ten minutes later.
"bye bye, you too!"
sometimes these interactions make my day. I know I initiated contact with this person but every week I get approached by someone or te other. i love seeing people happy. i love seeing people laugh. i think it brings this sort of positivity in my life, that even if I dotn know anything aboutt them, I helped them in this one instant in their lives. maybe theres some sort of selfishness attached to it. but that's okay to me.
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Finally quit my job today cause my boss is a sack of shit
#basically he implied that i've been slacking cause i use the bathroom too much#i assume because i used the bathroom once while i came in today and then a bunch of people came in while i was in there#which like. it'd be one thing if i went to the bathroom WHILE we were serving people but i didn't#i NEVER use the bathroom while there are people in line i ALWAYS wait until everyone is taken care of#there have been days where i held it in for like two hours because we were so busy#and i'm never in there for more than like five minutes#and this old fart decides to lecture me on how i'm slacking off and using the bathroom too much#i have worked at LEAST six days a week-sometimes even seven-for TEN MONTHS#there have been not one not two but THREE instances where he scheduled me to work nine or ten days straight#i had a fucking kidney stone for like a month and i STILL came in as often as i could#i work more hours than ANYONE. i have had NO time to have any kind of social life because this stupid job took up 99% of my time#and this geezer has the fucking AUDACITY to imply that i've been slacking in ANY way shape or form#so yeah i basically told him to go fuck himself and stormed out#not exactly the most professional way to quit but i don't care#i was already at my boiling point with this job and he struck my last nerve so he doesn't get a two weeks notice#most of my coworkers were fine so i hope they have a nice life but that old ballsack can have a heart attack for all i care#shut up tristan
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Perfect Imperfections.
Jeon Jungkook x OC
Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.
Rating : 21+
Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )
Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes]
Chapter 1
After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond.
Everyday began much the same.
The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .
And now came the harder part.
Getting my legs to work.
It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point.
Deep breaths helped. Sometimes.
But not today.
“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little.
“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?”
The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way.
It had been eight years ago.
A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg.
The skin stitched together. The bones grew back.
But the nerve damage stayed.
I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches.
But it wasn’t something I could hide.
People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed.
The girl who couldn’t walk.
I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place.
“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.
“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.”
I smiled a little.
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said .
She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head
“No, Mrs. Jeon.”
I sighed.
“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly.
How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole.
Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.
Jungkook ran marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered.
Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy.
I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed.
What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be.
Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company.
And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son.
Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing.
I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me.
Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad.
But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it.
It was a brutal sort of realization.
That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change.
Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate.
So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed.
And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.
We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking.
I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.
Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me?
And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone and of course, how little he cared about me.
Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid.
As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him.
There was a reason. There had to be.
So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to
And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days.
And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me.
Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant.
I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.
I could already imagine .
Finally. Now he can’t leave you.
I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in.
I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face.
The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here?
“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped.
“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me.
“Come on.. get up.”
“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms.
“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”
My heart dropped.
“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the
“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?”
I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare.
“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively.
“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated.
“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.
“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”
“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned.
“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking.
“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists.
Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would.
“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes . I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.
Jungkook looked shocked.
“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away.
“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened.
“Leah... enough.”
“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt.
“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.
“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “
He didn’t reply.
“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly.
I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway.
Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.
Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it?
I shook my head. The Jeon’s were a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.
The only reason my father had agreed to
And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it.
A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day.
I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked.
There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch.
“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared ,
“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”
“He just left... Is everything okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously.
She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?
“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.
She left.
The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either.
My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate.
Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place.
I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me.
As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.
But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting.
And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name.
My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning.
Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something.
When he didn’t, I sighed.
“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.
He sighed.
“I’m not going to cheat on you. “
I nodded.
“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?”
He exhaled sharply.
“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.
“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.”
Jungkook nodded.
“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long.
“I’m going to go lay down.”
“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled.
I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint.
“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.
“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened.
“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head.
“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore.
“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.
i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly.
Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...
I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.
“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out.
Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.
“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost.
“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath.
We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it.
I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face.
“ Leah-”
“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.”
Silence.
“Have you told your parents?”
I exhaled sharply.
“No.”
“Mine?”
“No...”
“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him.
“No.” I said softly.
He sighed.
“Alright. Should I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?”
I laughed.
“How very practical of you..” i said.
“What else do you expect from me..”
“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.
“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.
This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly.
“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”
“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted.
I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us?
“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently.
“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.
I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.
“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?”
He didn’t say anything.
“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt.
“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.
I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.
“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.”
I turned away.
“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly.
He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling.
Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down.
i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest.
“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing.
i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling.
I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought.
Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control.
#jungkook arranged marriage#bts arranged marriage#bts fic#bts arranged marriage fic#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkok fanfics#bts famnfics#bts fanfics
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Heat
It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.
I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.
“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.
“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.
His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths.
He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.
But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.
The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.
“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”
“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.
“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”
“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”
After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.
You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...
Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.
“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.
“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”
I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”
“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.
“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.
“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”
Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”
“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”
My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”
“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.
“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”
“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”
I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.
“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”
“What?”
“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”
Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.
“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.
“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”
I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”
Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”
“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”
“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”
I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.
“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.
I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.
Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.
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What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 3
Word Count: 4,050
POV: Reader
Warning: Language
Notes: Well I’m finally at home for a night and I definitely owe you guys a story. So since I had the next part of this one ready, I dediced to post it. When last we saw these two, they had decided to divorce, and our reader had signed the papers and sent them back to Jacob. Who had forgotten to sign them. Let’s see what happens now, though I think some of you have an idea. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!
What Happens In Vegas…Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist
It had been almost seven weeks since Jacob met you. For six of those, he’d talked to you every day, sometimes two and three times. It was just these last few days that you wouldn’t answer his calls or texts. Jacob was confused, to put it mildly. He wracked his brain trying to recall the last couple of conversations that you’d had, wondering if he’d said or did something to anger you, but nothing came to mind. In Jacob’s mind, he thought the two of you were actually starting something. Sure, it had been one of the most peculiar beginnings to a relationship ever, but the last several weeks' things had been nice, better than nice actually. He thought the two of you might have a chance at a real relationship. Of course, the distance between you played a part, but he thought the two of you could work that out; apparently, he was wrong.
Jacob knew the moment he stepped poolside, that you were something special. The longer he talked to you the more he knew he’d been right. If he was being honest, it was probably one of the reasons he suggested marrying you, even though that marriage would be over soon. Just like lightning striking in the middle of a storm, it hit Jacob then why you were pissed. He’d forgotten to sign the divorce papers. He’d had them for well over two weeks now. Rushing into the office, he started rifling through all the crap on his desk looking for the manila envelope that you’d mailed it to him in. He was just in the process of opening it when the front doorbell rang, so back on the desk it went, as he headed to the door to answer it.
Jacob was shocked to see you standing there. “(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. It took him a moment to recover before taking you in. There were dark circles under your eyes that made it look like you hadn’t slept in days, not to mention how puffy they looked as if you’d been crying. Jacob wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and make whatever seemed to be causing you this much pain go away.
“Hey,” you mumbled out weakly. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you into his home. It was your typical bachelor pad. Walls stark and devoid of any real character that you knew Jacob possessed. He led you over to the couch in the living room, an enormous piece of furniture designed for his large frame. It almost seemed to swallow you whole. “(Y/N) is everything ok?” There was concern in his eyes and you knew he was probably questioning your presence there after you’d been radio silent the last few days.
“No.” The one-word answer was hard to push out without tears falling down your eyes. You could see how Jacob’s fingers itched to touch you and honestly that’s all you wanted right now, for him to just take you in his arms and somehow have all the answers, but he had to know the problem first. You took a deep breath trying to steel yourself for what you needed to tell him. “Jacob, I don’t know how to tell you this.” At that moment Jacob grabbed your hands and engulfed them in his giving you his support in just that simple touch. It gave you enough courage to blurt out the last part. “I’m pregnant.”
You felt his hands slip a bit on yours at the shock of the news; his mouth working trying to form a sentence yet nothing coming out. It took a minute but he finally found his words. “Wow, um…ok…I hate to ask this…”
This was the part you knew was coming, expected it really and you didn’t blame him at all. So, to spare him, you found yourself answering the unspoken question. “It’s yours.” He nodded but you felt the need to explain more. “I haven’t been with anyone since Vegas, and even before that, well, work was really busy, and…well let’s just say it had been over a month or longer.”
“You don’t have to say anymore, (Y/N). I believe you.” His hands tightened on yours, the shock of everything starting to wear off. “Plus, we didn’t use protection.” It was something you didn’t give much thought to when you were with Jacob, which was odd because you’d always been extra cautious with hookups, but then everything with Jacob was different than anyone else. “Do you…do you know what you want to do?”
This time you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “I tried, Jacob. I really did.” He looked confused, unsure of what you meant by that. “I went to get an abortion yesterday.” He blinked hard but other than that showed no expression. “I was sitting there on the damn table in a gown just waiting for the doctor to come in and then I looked around. There was this damn chart that showed what the size of your baby is every week compared to fruit of all things. It’s a blueberry by the way. A damn cute little blueberry, like the kind they put in muffins and stuff.” Why it had to be an adorable little fruit like that you didn’t know. Why couldn’t it be honeydew? You hated that fruit. Well maybe not hate, but it wasn’t your favorite that’s for sure. “Anyhow, I was just staring at that poster and looking at each week and I don’t know. I couldn’t breathe.” Kind of like now, even telling him brought back all those feelings. “I started thinking about the doctor telling me that I could hear the heartbeat next week when she did the ultrasound, and I’m not sure what happened, but I couldn’t go through with it; so, I left. I’m so sorry.”
You weren’t quite sure if you were apologizing to him or yourself. This was something you didn’t want, at least not right now, or at least that’s what you always thought. Now, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You took a deep breath, composing yourself. “I booked a flight once I got home. I couldn’t tell you this over the phone or text. You deserved to hear it in person.”
“Thank you for that.”
You slipped your hands out of his, distancing yourself from him for this next part, but also pulling out the envelope you brought. “I’m going to keep the baby.” As if that part wasn’t obvious, but you somehow felt it needed to be said. “I had Aaron draw up some papers. They absolve you from any obligations to the child both financially and emotionally. All you have to do is sign them. You won’t even have to be listed on the birth certificate.” He took the envelope from your hands, glancing briefly at the contents inside. “I’m sure you’ll want to have your lawyer look it over.”
Jacob didn’t know what to think. Ten minutes ago, he was wondering if you were ever going to speak to him again and now you were telling him you were having his child. A child you apparently didn’t want him to be a part of. But did he even want a baby? He certainly hadn’t wanted a wife, yet here he was still married to you. He should come clean right now and tell you that he hadn’t signed the papers yet. That some indescribable feeling had taken over him, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to sign them anymore. And now, well, now he felt like he shouldn’t sign them. Maybe this was all some force in the universe steering his life in a different direction; a route he hadn’t planned on taking until later, yet here he was on it. “And what if I don’t want to sign them?”
Well, that certainly wasn’t what you thought he’d say. You didn’t think this was something either of you wanted, but you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like the two of you had had this long talk about where you saw your life in five years. Hell, this wasn’t where you saw your life in five months, but here you were, on the verge of being divorced with a baby on the way. “Well, I guess we’ll need to figure things out then.”
Jacob got up and started to wander around the living room. You weren’t sure if he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to sign the papers or how he was going to be part of his child’s life. “Do you want a drink or something? I need a drink. Oh shit, you can’t drink, can you?”
“It’s not advised, but please don’t let that stop you. Though if you have a water that would be great.” He headed towards the kitchen, which gave you a chance to just breathe. The hardest part was telling him, all the rest you’d figure out. He was back quicker than you expected, a bottle of water in each hand. He handed one over to you and sat back down beside you. “You know, you can think about this if you want. You don’t have to sign or not sign them right now.”
He nodded and pursued his lips before answering, though not how you expected. “How long are you here for?”
“A few days. There’s a movie being filmed not far from here. I offered to drop off some of the specs for the campaign, as long as I was here, but it also gives you some time to make a decision.”
“I already have. I want to be in our baby’s life.” You don’t know why but it felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off your chest. It was nice to know that you weren’t in this alone. “But there’s a lot to figure out.”
“Yes, there is.”
“(Y/N), this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to move here.”
Pregnancy did weird things to the body and maybe your hearing things was one of them because you were pretty sure Jacob had just said he wanted you to move to Vancouver. “I’m sorry, you want me to move here, as in Vancouver?”
“Well, yeah but I want you to move in here, like in my house.”
He seemed dead serious and you weren’t sure how to take his suggestion or him at the moment. “But my life and my home are in LA. That’s where my job is.” Couldn’t he see that?
“I know, but moving here just makes sense. I’ll be able to help you then, not just after the baby is born but before as well. I have plenty of room in this house. There are three spare bedrooms; we can turn one into a nursery for the baby.”
How could go from finding out you were pregnant to a full out plan of attack in less than a half-hour? God, it took you a day to wrap your head around it when you found out and then another to make the decision about the abortion, and even then you still didn’t figure out you wanted to keep the baby until you were sitting in the doctor’s office. Jacob seemed to be processing everything much better than you were.
“I don’t know Jacob, just because we’re having this baby together doesn’t mean we have to live together.” Everything with Jacob was still in this weird transition phase like you went from being wildly attracted to each other, to being married, to getting a divorce, to now having a baby, and now he wanted you to live together under the same roof. You didn’t even know if the two of you would get along that great. Sure, the sex was amazing, well really better than amazing if that was even a thing, and you seemed to get along if your conversations over the last several weeks were any indication, but to live together; that could just be a whole other problem altogether.
“Look I know it’s a lot to ask and believe me if I could, I’d be willing to move to LA. It’s not like I can just ask to be traded there though. But I don’t want you to have to do this on your own.” It was awfully sweet of him to want to be there for you, and not just the baby. You’d just assumed that he’d want to see the baby on some weekends and maybe an extended time during the summer when he was off. “You don’t realize this yet, but there’s going to be a whole hockey family here for you. That’s just the way it is in this sport.” He grasped your hands then, the gesture one pleading in and of itself for you to see his side of things. “We can do this (Y/N), together.”
Together, it sounded so nice. You knew that if he had decided to sign the papers that being a single mom was going to be tough, but now knowing that he wanted to be there every step of the way eased some of the burden you felt. It was just hard to think about giving up the life you’d built for yourself in LA. You were already giving up so much as it was. “I get what you’re asking, I really do. I just…it’s a lot.” His thumb started to run back and forth across your knuckles, softly urging you to his side without him even knowing it. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
“I mean we don’t have to decide everything tonight.”
“No, we don’t.” He smiled at you. The same one he gave you when you’d been in Vegas. It gave you butterflies in your stomach back then as it did now. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, I get a little queasy now and then; mostly when I’m hungry. I’ve learned to carry crackers with me everywhere.”
“Well, I could make you something or we could order.” The fact that he even offered scored points in your book and was definitely a check on his side of the box for moving to Vancouver, and you were kind of hungry.
“I mean, I haven’t really eaten.” He gave you a disapproving stare and you felt the need to justify why you hadn’t. “I was too nervous before.”
“Well, then let’s get you something to eat.” Jacob led you out to the kitchen, where he took out some chicken along with some vegetables to stick in the oven. The two of you worked side by side getting dinner ready. You were midway chopping up some zucchini when Jacob brought the baby back up again. “You mentioned something about the heartbeat. Were you able to hear it?”
“I have to schedule an ultrasound when I get back but they said that I should be able to.”
“Mmm.” You weren’t exactly sure what that little hum meant. Was that a good hum, or a bad one? You stayed silent waiting for him to say more. “Do you think you could record it for me?”
Why did your heart just flutter when he asked that? Was it because he wanted to hear the baby or was it because you were realizing how much he would be missing when you went back to LA? “I will,” you finally told him, but then had an even better idea. “Though you know, I’m here for four more days. Maybe we could find a doctor that would be able to do it while I’m here.”
His face lit up, like a little boy on Christmas morning. “You would do that?”
“Yeah. If we can find a doctor to squeeze us in.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He pulled out his phone, you weren’t sure if he was searching for gynecologists or texting someone, either way, it was adorable how he just jumped in at the first mention of being a part of this whole pregnancy. Again, he was showing you just how nice it would be to share this with him. Ten minutes later he had an appointment all set for you in two days.
During dinner you talked about how you had found out you were pregnant, telling him the story of how Kennedy was the one to point out your nausea wasn’t normal and that you should take a pregnancy test. She was the only one that knew you were pregnant. You swore her to secrecy, hoping that she wouldn’t spill the beans this time like she had about a certain movie star. Surprisingly, he wanted to know everything, though there wasn’t too much to tell. By the time you got the mess cleaned up from dinner, you were starting to feel the weariness of the day.
“I think I’m going to head over to the hotel. I still need to check in. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep better tonight, now that you finally know.”
“Stay.” The word fell out of Jacob’s mouth in almost an authoritative manner, which belied the puppy dog look on his face. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean you could stay here if you wanted. Sort of like a tryout or something.”
“You mean trial run?” Leave it to his athletic side to call it a tryout. It made you laugh.
“Yeah. We could just take the next few days and see how we do together.” It wasn’t a bad idea. “You call and cancel the hotel and I’ll go grab your bag from the car.” He was halfway to the door before you actually agreed.
As Jacob went outside, he contemplated with himself as to where he should put your things. Did he just bring your luggage to his room or should he give you one of the spare rooms? Despite the fact you were carrying his child, his body still wanted you as much, if not more, than when you were in Vegas. He just wasn’t sure where you saw things going.
You were just hanging up the phone when he walked back into the house and unbeknownst to him, you were wondering the same thing. However, your head kept telling you that if the two of you were going to make this work, you needed to keep things out of the bedroom, at least for now. Jacob must have had the same thought as you, for when he came in, he said, “Here, I’ll show you where the spare bedroom is.” The room was spacious but again, it wasn’t that homey, and occurred to you that if you decided to live here, you’d definitely need to make some changes. “Did you maybe wanna watch a movie or something, or are you tired?”
You could see he was struggling in this unchartered territory as much as you were, and while you were exhausted; you still wanted to spend time with him, to see if moving to Vancouver was even an option. “I’d love to watch a movie. Do you mind if I change first?”
“No, not at all.” He fidgeted with the back of his neck a bit, before turning to leave. “I’ll meet you back downstairs.”
You really wanted to take a hot shower and crawl into bed, but instead, you opted for just washing up quickly and slipping on a pair of pajamas you’d brought. It was still warm in LA, though the nights were a bit cooler. All you brought to sleep in were a couple pairs of shorts and some comfy t-shirts, thinking that you’d be in a hotel room by yourself. Now, you were wishing that you’d thought about it a little more and packed something a little warmer, if not more modest. Why you cared, you weren’t sure, considering this man had seen you completely naked several times.
Jacob had changed into some sweats by the time you got downstairs. He had bottles of water for you both along with a pack of crackers laying on the coffee table, and you had to admit your heart melted a little bit when you saw that. “So, what kind of movies do you like? I remember you saying no horror.”
“We don’t have to watch a movie. I know the Bruins are playing tonight and that you play them tomorrow. Why don’t you just turn the game on?” He looked surprised that you knew his schedule, but you did a deep dive finding out as much information as you could once you found out you were pregnant. He was going to be the baby's father, even if he would've decided not to be in your child's life, though now that he decided he wanted to be, the information was even more useful.
“Are you sure?” You nodded giving him the go-ahead to watch his opponents’ play. “Speaking of that, would you be interested in going to the game? I mean I know someone who could get you a ticket on short notice?” He looked so adorable when he asked you couldn’t tell him no.
“I’d love to.” You’d watched very few hockey games live, though ever since Las Vegas, you’d been following the Canucks, well, more like Jacob. It would be fun to see him in action.
“Great, I can leave you a ticket or have Erik’s fiancé come and take you. You’ll love her.”
Jacob really wanted you to jump in with both feet, didn’t he? You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to meet all his friends and teammates, but you supposed that if you moved here this would be a part of your life. “If she wouldn’t mind that would be great.”
“I’ll text him now.”
“Jacob,” you stopped him, just by saying his name. “Can we keep the baby our secret for now? I know Kennedy knows and I don’t expect you to keep it to yourself, but I don’t want to broadcast it either. At least until we know what we’re doing.”
He took your hand in his, the gesture reassuring. “Yeah (Y/N), we can do that.”
It wasn’t long before your attire got the best of you and you found yourself tucking your feet underneath you on the couch trying to keep them warm. You thought that Jacob was fully absorbed in the game, but he caught the subtle movement. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He scooted your closer to him, his large frame wrapping around yours. You weren’t sure if it was his body heat or him just holding you, but it was definitely warmer in seconds, though Jacob still covered you with a throw blanket that was on the couch. “Better?”
“Much.” It wasn’t long before you found yourself dozing off. The stress of the day and travel wearing on you. Your head fell softly against his shoulder and you sighed in contentment.
Jacob felt your body relax against him and he savored the feel of it. He’d honestly missed this closeness to another person in a completely non-sexual way and having you in his arms just felt right. He should’ve been paying attention to the game, scouting out his opponents but instead all he could do was watch you, even before you fell asleep. His fingers were idly stroking your bare arm under the blanket, slowly inching their way down to your wrist. He didn’t realize they’d made their way to your midsection until they were there; just lightly caressing you, scared he would wake you, but he had to touch you there. He’d been dying to all night but been afraid to ask as if it was almost an invasion of your privacy even though you were carrying his child. His child. The thought both terrified him and thrilled him. Jacob always wanted kids; knew that someday he would have them. He just didn’t think it would be this soon. He always assumed that he’d start his family after hockey was over, but here he was with a wife and child on the way. It was something he hadn’t bargained for and never saw coming. Apparently, what happened in Vegas was a lot more than he gambled on.
taglist: @iculyrea @fiveholegoal @raysofcrosby @leafs-lover @sexysidney87 @lovethepreds @miranda0102 @stbluesbrat21 @perrieeloise @mandypants95 @hockeyunits @liz96893 @golfergirl1982 @princessphilly @ajstylesworld @zinka8 @dontworrybeekappy @hiimana @meishaabae @heatherawoowoo @beauvibaby @hockeybabe87 @leafs-forever
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#What Happens in vegas series#whivdast#jacob markstrom#jacob markstrom imagine#jacob markstrom imagines#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfic#hockey imagine#hockey imagines
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By My Side (Part 1)
Summary: While at home one night, the reader, an actress, is almost kidnapped and at her friend’s suggestion she hires Jensen as her bodyguard. While the pair doesn’t get along, an incident at the reader’s new home leads her and Jensen to taking a drastic measure...
Masterlist
Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader
Word Count: 3,900ish
Warnings: language, minor injury, attempted kidnapping, drugging
A/N: There will be no taglist for this series. Please check out the masterlist for posting dates/times. Enjoy!
_________
“Get the fuck off!” you said, kneeing the man that was halfway through dragging you down your stairs. You threw a punch and a kick, swinging more than a few times before the grip on you fell away and you booked it for the front door. You sprinted outside and down the driveway, dashing across the street and banging on your neighbor’s door.
A light came on and you glanced over your shoulder, spotting the guy dressed in black and wearing a mask jog to the end of your driveway.
“Shit, shit,” you said, a strong arm grabbing you and yanking you inside before you could even turn back around. The door slammed shut after you and you took a deep breath, your neighbor standing there in his boxers, saying something to his wife in the background.
“Y/N, are you okay?” said Jared. You straightened up and nodded, his eyes going wide.
“Gen! Tell them she needs an ambulance too,” he said.
“I’m fine,” you said as he walked you to his kitchen and sat you down at the counter. Gen was in there, on the phone with the police it sounded like, as Jared went to a cupboard. He pulled out a red bag and then was walking back over with a wad of bandages, holding it up to your forehead. “I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding,” he said. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” you said, pressing your hand to your head, seeing the half secured zip tie stuck on your other wrist. There were sirens in the distance and you shut your eyes.
“Hey, no sleeping. You might have a concussion,” he said.
“I’m not sleeping,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck.”
“It’s okay,” he said, the sirens getting louder before there were flashing lights in the window. Gen walked over to the front door, letting the police in. About four officers came inside, one of them immediately coming over to you.
“What’d he look like? How many?” he asked.
“Uh, all in black, with a mask. He was white I think from what I could tell. Maybe six foot, average build, strong. It was just the one as far as I know. Last I saw him he was at the end of the driveway before my neighbor let me in his house,” you said.
“You two, call it in for backup and start looking. Jones, get a full statement from these three. Start with the vic. Medics will want to look at that head,” he said. “Which house is yours?”
“Right across the street. Red front door,” you said. He left and the other cop in there pulled out a plastic bag from his back pocket.
“I need to cut that off for evidence,” he said, glancing at your wrist.
“Should we do anything?” asked Jared as the cop made a cut and bagged the plastic tie.
“I would keep pressure on that wound for the moment,” he said, writing on the bag and taking out a notepad and pen. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning.”
“I was asleep less than ten minutes ago in my bed and I woke up to someone touching my arm and I found that tie thing on me and the guy tried grabbing my other arm but I rolled away. I got caught up in the covers while I was running away so he caught up to me in the hall outside my bedroom and I just started hitting what I could and then he tried to pull me downstairs and I hit him some more and then he let go and I ran over here.”
“How’d you sustain the head injury?” he asked.
“Well he was hitting me too when I started fighting back,” you said. “I was half-awake.”
“Okay. Sir, I’m going to need to ask you a few questions now.”
Three Hours Later
“Hey,” said Jared, setting a cup of tea down at his breakfast table. He rubbed your back and you sighed. “Rough night huh?”
“At least I don’t have a concussion,” you said, touching your butterfly bandages on your head.
“Police said your alarm wasn’t on.”
“So this is my fault?” you asked.
“No, I didn’t say that. I am saying that you and Gen have a very popular show together and if she didn’t have me around, I’d want her to have a bodyguard, maybe even full time,” he said.
“I have had this conversation with my manager multiple times. I’m not getting a bodyguard. For events and conventions, fine, I’ll have one. At work? In my life? No way,” you said.
“Y/N, you know I used to be in the army. Then I was a cop. Then I was on a SWAT team before I retired to become a stay at home dad,” he said.
“Yes. You’re an adorable scary badass. What’s your point?” you asked.
“When I worked SWAT, I worked a a few kidnapping cases. The honest truth is sometimes we don’t find you until it’s too late or we never do. It’s not like a movie. It’s not like your guys show and someone swoops in. No one shows up out of the blue to save you. You save yourself or you don’t get saved. Rarely do we get you out of that situation.”
“Again, what’s your point?”
“My point is whoever that person was, when they come back because they will come back, Y/N, and when they do, they’re not going to be that sloppy. They may drug you. They may knock you out. They could do a number of things but your chances of getting way again would be extraordinary. I love ya and I’ll always protect you. But next time, I might not be able to stop something bad from happening. You alone over there...I wouldn’t know until it’s too late.”
You were quiet, playing with the tea bag in your drink as he drank from his own mug.
“I don’t want a stranger coming into my home,” you said.
“Y/N, Gen and I want you to stay here for as long as you-”
“I meant a bodyguard, Jare. I don’t want somebody I don’t know to start coming into my life and controlling it.”
“I have a friend from my army days who does that kind of work. He’s between jobs at the moment. I’ll vouch for him,” he said.
“You’re not gonna give me a choice on this, are you,” you said.
“Gen and I are moving. A bigger place,” he said. “We think it’s a good idea if you had a change of scenery too.”
“You think she’s in danger too?”
“We don’t know but she’s five months pregnant. We don’t want to risk anything,” he said. “It’s just a thought.”
“Can...can I stay over here a few days? While I figure out what I want to do?” you asked.
“Yeah, of course, Y/N.”
Two Weeks Later
“I like the new place,” said Jared as he helped you carry in the last box.
“It’s uh, a bit big,” you said. “But the owner wanted to sell fast and I wanted out of the other one fast so it worked out.”
“Seems like a lot of space for one person,” said the man walking in through the open front door. He was in a pair of dark jeans and a blazer, a tee shirt underneath. You stepped behind Jared but he chuckled. “Really Jare? Didn’t mention I’d be stopping by?”
“Y/N, this is my friend Jensen. I told you about him. You said you were interested in meeting him,” said Jared.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.
“Y/N please,” you said as you shook it.
“I prefer to keep things professional,” said Jensen. “It’s easier that way. So, this is the new place, hm? Which room will be mine?”
“There’s a guest suite over on the first floor you can use,” you said.
“Where’s the master?”
“Upstairs.”
“Preferably I’d like to be in a room closer to yours,” he said.
“Fine. Take the guest room upstairs,” you said. “This is just a test run remember.”
“My contract says this is a six month test run,” he said as he looked around. “I see you’re still moving in so perhaps we can go over some of our new procedures in the morning.”
“Sure,” you said.
“I’ll move in my belongings then,” he said. “I don’t have much.”
“Mhm,” you said. He nodded and headed back outside, Jared catching the look you gave him.
“What?” he asked.
“He’s gonna be a joy to live with,” you muttered.
“He’s quiet until you get to know him. I wouldn’t have recommended him if I didn’t trust him. He’s saved my life before. I know he’ll have your back,” said Jared.
“Yeah,” you said, his phone going off. “Jared, go. I know you’re already late for the baby checkup.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I only have boxes left to unpack anyways. Go on. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said. He gave you a wave on the way out, leaving you to stare at the pile of boxes sitting on your kitchen floor. You cracked your back and started to work, catching Jensen move in a few duffel bags of his own. He left and wandered around outside eventually, allowing you to try and get the essentials all stored away.
By the time it was seven, you were exhausted but your bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were all set up. You plopped down on the couch, closing your eyes. They blinked open when you felt a presence standing over you.
“I’ve done a review of the property. I’d like to have an upgraded security system installed tomorrow,” he said.
“Whatever. Just put it on the card my manager gave you,” you said.
“I’d also like to consider hiring an additional person to monitor the system at some point. They can be remotely based,” he said.
“Like I said, whatever,” you said, closing your eyes again.
“I assume I have access to use the kitchen as I desire,” he said.
“No smoking. No drugs. No random hookups you bring here and as long as you don’t bug me and stay away from my ice cream, we’ll be fine,” you said.
“I can agree to that. As long as you follow my rules, we’ll also be fine,” he said. You laughed and sat up, walking to the kitchen to find your phone. “Do you think that’s funny?”
“I think the fact you think you’re going to be making rules in my home that I paid for is very funny,” you said. You took the phone to check on the pizza and wings you ordered for yourself, Jensen walking over and stopping in front of you. “Can I help you?”
“You are paying me a very large sum of money to keep you safe. If you don’t listen to what I say then I can’t guarantee your safety,” he said.
“Let me get something clear. I’m doing this to appease my friends and manager. Do whatever you want around here but don’t start telling me how to live my life,” you said.
“I took this job as a favor,” he said, snatching your phone out of your hand and tossing it on the countertop behind him. You scowled and he walked forward, forcing you to back up until your back hit a wall.
“Dude, backoff.”
“Pretend I’m that man that tried to take you before. What do you do? Right here and now. What’s your plan?”
“I’m serious,” you said, trying to brush past him and getting a light shove into the wall for it. You glared at him but he held his ground, pushing you again when you moved.
“I’m serious. Tell me what your plan is. Better yet, show me,” he said.
“I don’t care if you are Jared’s friend. I am this close to punching you. Move now.”
“I said show me.”
You narrowed your eyes and brought up your knee to hit him in the groin. He pushed it away before it connected though and you were off balance, Jensen grabbing you and yanking you away from the wall, putting you in a headlock and tugging your arms behind your back.
“Don’t go for the most obvious move in the world,” he said. “Now that didn’t go how you wanted it to. What’s the plan now?”
“Get off,” you growled, trying to stomp your foot down on his but he moved it back and kicked out your ankle, making you fall back against him. He picked you up and you started moving your legs, Jensen suddenly dropping you down onto the hardwood floor. You hit your knee and winced, a hand suddenly grabbing the back of your shirt. “Alright! I get the fucking point.”
“Do you?” he said, squatting down beside you. You tried pushing his hand away but it tightened and you tried throwing a punch, his grip almost too hard now and his free hand easily blocking the hit. “You have no plan. You’re too small and too weak to overpower someone. You can’t afford to have no plan. The thing is, when it’s real, you’ll be panicking and you’ll have no time at all to think of one.”
“Stop touching me unless you want me to call the cops on you,” you spat out. He moved his hand away and stood, staring back at you.
“You need to do what I tell you if you want to stay safe. I will teach you what to do if you’re in that situation for whatever reason. But the rules keep that situation from happening in the first place. Understand?” he said.
“Understand that you are fired as of now. Pack up your shit and get out of my house,” you said. You got to your feet and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m your boss and I can fire you whenever I want. Get out.”
“How on earth Jared is friends with a someone like you I will never understand,” he said. He headed upstairs and the doorbell rang. You forced a smile for the delivery guy and took your food back to the kitchen, digging in before Jensen was even tossing his first bag down the stairs. You rolled your eyes and were on your third slice by the time he was walking downstairs.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” you said. He shot you a dirty look, his head cocking as he set his bag down. “Oh now what?”
“You look really pale,” he said, walking over to you. “Your pupils are huge.”
“You know what else? You are so not as hot as you think you are,” you said, reaching for another piece of chicken before he smacked your hand. “You are this close to me calling...someone.”
Your head got dizzy for a second, Jensen grabbing your arms and setting you down on the ground.
“I feel funny,” you said, tipping over and resting against him. “Really, really funny.”
“You just got drugged,” he said, using his phone to dial a number. “No more takeout. Got it? Obviously this person knows you moved. I want to put someone at the house full time.”
“I’m gonna fall asleep now,” you said, shutting your eyes.
“No, nope, try to stay awake,” he said. You hummed and he grabbed your face. “Y/N. Try.”
“You’re really pretty for a grumpy grump,” you said.
“I thought I wasn’t hot. Just stay awake for me, Y/N,” he said.
Twenty minutes later you were in the ER with an IV in your arm and feeling a whole lot of crappy. Jensen said something to a doctor before he walked over to the stall you were in and stood by the bed.
“Hey. Police are at your house. Neighbor said they saw a silver pickup parked down the street. Seemed shady. It was gone by the time they got there,” he said.
“Course it was,” you mumbled.
“You more with it again?” he asked.
“Yeah. Feel really tired is all,” you said.
“Well I called your manager. He said he’d be here soon so I’m gonna head out,” he said.
“Huh?” you said, sitting up as he started to leave. “Wait.”
“Last I remember, you fired me. Nothing has changed,” he said. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist, the effort taking more energy than you were anticipating. He didn’t shrug you off, instead gently setting your hand back in your lap and pushing you to lay back down.
“You should rest. There’s a cop outside the room,” he said.
“Stop. Just...sit down,” you said. He sighed but sat on the edge of the bed, raising an eyebrow. “How could somebody already know where I moved? Hardly anyone knows.”
“You rent a moving truck?” he asked.
“Yeah. Movers did the furniture,” you said. He shrugged and you shut your eyes. “The movers?”
“No, probably not them. But that truck probably has GPS for mileage tracking and if this person has your credit card info, they could figure it out,” he said. “The food thing probably happened back at the restaurant you ordered from. Somebody slips in the backdoor, puts some stuff on your food and slips back out.”
“What’s your suggestion?”
“I don’t work for you anymore.”
“Let’s pretend earlier didn’t happen. Please,” you said. “I can’t...I can’t be alone right now and something feels really off about this whole thing.”
“This whole thing has felt off the second Jared told me about it. Tonight just further proved that point,” he said.
“You were in the army longer than he was, right?”
“He decided to retire, go be a cop. I stayed in. Worked on a few more specialized skills a bit longer before I left and got in this line of work,” he said.
“I’m going to assume you know what you’re doing then.”
“Yeah. I know what I’m doing. I can’t guarantee anything but I can give you some pretty damn good odds,” he said. He stared at you for a moment and looked you over. “You’re smarter than the stereotypical actress I pegged you for.”
“It had to have been someone on my team or that’s close to me in order to know that I was moving,” you said. “Or else the person never would have known to look today.”
“Someone that knows your go to takeout place too. You need to be extremely careful about who you trust right now,” he said.
“I trust Jared and Gen,” you said.
“I trust the guy with my life. I’d trust him with yours. Gen is fiesty when you piss her off but you’re her best friend. They didn’t do this.”
“Your expert opinion, what’s my next move?” you asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and made a face. “Jensen.”
“Ideally? You go off grid. I mean off grid, off grid. Middle of nowhere, no one knows where exactly. Cut yourself off and it’d give us more time to figure out who this person is and what exactly it is they want with you. If they’re as close as we think they are, they’ll find a way to sneak in again and next time, it might be my food that’s drugged. It’s a big risk to go back to the house.”
“I can’t go be alone though. What if they did find me somehow?” you asked.
“I said off grid. I didn’t say alone,” he said. “It’s an extreme approach, I’ll give you that. But it gives me more time to work on this and it’ll keep you safe.”
“Why not hire a bunch of guys to stay around me all the time?”
“Because you’re still in danger if you stay in LA and I don’t have the ability to check that many guys out. I got guys I know I can trust but they’re all over the country and the only other one here is Jared and Gen needs him. No offense but she’s got a kid with another on the way. More bodies means more priority,” he said.
“No, no. Please keep them safe too. If it’s a fan of the show, they could be in the same situation,” you said.
“I’m not going to try and tell you what to do because obviously, you weren’t a fan of me doing that before. But if you want to be able to sleep safely at night, we need to go, just you and me. Jared and Gen can know but that’s it and I mean that’s it. I can secure a safe place and everything we’ll need. But it’s going to be a drastic lifestyle change.”
“How drastic?”
“Like no internet and our electricity will run off a generator drastic.”
“If I stay here?”
“I give it a week tops before they try something again,” he said.
“We wrapped two weeks back and since Gen’s pregnant, we aren’t slated to start filming for another seven months. I’ll have to cancel some events but if I was ever going to go off grid, now’s the time to do it.”
“I will get it arranged. Do not speak a word of this to anyone,” he said.
“Jensen,” you said as he stood. “What was that back at the house? You acting all aggressive like that?”
“The last client I had, I was lenient, never taught them anything, let them push me around and dictate how I worked. They got put in a bad situation because of that. If you don’t take this seriously, then what’s the point of me being here.”
“Well wherever we go, I’m gonna need a few things. Women stuff,” you said.
“Make a list and tomorrow, pack a bag,” he said. “I want us on the road tomorrow night. I don’t care what you tell your team about why you’ll be MIA. Just tell them something so we don’t get a missing persons report on you.”
“Alright,” you said, Jensen nodding and starting to leave. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“I need to start preparing. Like I said, there’s a police officer by the door.”
You stared at him and he took a deep breath.
“How about he stays in the room with you until we’re ready to go home and get what we need, okay?” he said.
“Okay,” you said.
“Hang tight. When you’re up for it, we’ll get out of here.”
_____
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
#spn#supernatural#jensen ackles#jensen ackles au#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#au#bodyguard!AU#bodyguard!jensen#bodyguard!jensen x reader#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction
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the story of our life (2) - jay halstead
jay halstead x fem!reader
part one
masterlist
series summary: in which jay finds an old video camera and him and y/n decide to document their life as it progresses
a/n: this is about a year too late, but i finally got around to writing a part two to this, i was overwhelmed by the support last time. hope you enjoy :)
31st december 2013
if there was one thing that y/n hated, it was making small talk with a bunch of her neighbours. she knew how mean that sounded, but it was the truth. it was the way they worded their questions to serve both as jabs for informations with a hint of an insult, whilst covering it up with the largest fake smile that they could muster up. it was something mrs franklin, the 45 year old, mother of 4 had gotten well practised at, as y/n had the displeasure of finding out.
"so, how's the job hunt going? i know after you dropped out of university it must have been quite a struggle to keep afloat? isn't that why you are still living here with your mom?" she sneered, as she sipped innocently on the cheap bottle of wine y/n's mom had personally assigned just for her consumption. y/n had to restrain herself from slapping the glass clean out of her hand as she remembered what her mother had instilled in her for the last week in preparation for this exact moment.
"oops, i think i hear my mom calling. enjoy your night, yeah?" she stay posed, as she flashed one more faux smile before striding away from the living room and into the kitchen where she grabbed whatever was closest and downed it as quick as she could, frowning at the permanent numbness that hollowed out her entire body.
her head was ringing from the chatter that filled the house, and that would most likely continue until the new year had been welcomed in. the laughter and smiles that were being thrown around didn't sit right with y/n, for what was another year if it was just going to be like the last two. her life had imploded in her hands leaving nothing but a body behind that had no choice but to survive.
"y/n!" someone called out from the other room, however before they had a chance to find her, y/n grabbed two beers from the fridge and shimmied out the back door. the sudden fan of cold december air on her face made her entire chest burn, but y/n liked it, at least it broke the monotony. even if it was just for a couple minutes.
avoiding eye contacts with everyone she passed, y/n found herself rounding her own house until she was stood in the driveway of the neighbouring one. a small smile etching itself on her face as her eyes were met with the old, rotten porch swing that was missing the woman that would be doing her crossword or simply sipping on a cup of coffee no matter the hour. a shiver ran down the woman's back, realising there would not be another moment that she got to see that again.
the house had stayed the same even after all these years, the same paint was chipping away and the wood door was still damaged from where a football had hit it repeatedly during the early years of their sons' lives. however unlike the busy chaos that had once been habituated in the abode, no lights could be seen, no life. just a dull darkness that highlighted how the house she once had known, the family, couldn't be any more different.
pushing past the knot in her stomach, y/n approached the gate to the back garden that was slightly ajar. as she investigated further, a small smile etched itself upon her lips as she was met with two white plastic garden chairs, in one sat pat halstead, whilst the other remained empty.
"well, well, i thought your mother would have chained you to your seat to stop you from pulling a fast one." pat teased, as his eyes strayed away from the dark sky to inspect the woman. patting the seat besides him, the twenty something year old collapsed down into it, before handing one of the cans over to the man, receiving a whispered 'thank you'.
"she got distracted by the mini quiches like an hour ago and i haven't seen her since. couldn't stay there much longer, celia and claire were debating whose husband was the biggest deadbeat." she sighed, as the pair clinked their cans together before they took a longing sip of the liquid, and slipped further down the slightly cracked plastic. her eyes were drawn upwards into the pre-midnight bleakness. however where the winter clouds usually suffocated it, there was a small breaking where two stars shone proudly above them.
"beautiful aren't they?" pat pointed out, clearly confirming y/n's thoughts that the two stars had been the same thing that had caught his interest when she first arrived. running a hand over the wiry beard he had grown over the last two years, his eyes began to water. "uh, sometimes i like to think it's liz and your old man up there, sure she would be chatting his ear off about you and your brother. as well as watching over our jay wherever he may be."
y/n was taken off guard by the older man's comments, but she tried to contain it. in the years she had known pat halstead, it was extremely rare that he voiced his honest opinion about anything. or at least one that wasn't followed by a sarcastic grumble or insult. but to talk about his wife and his son, as well as his best friend, with such emotion brought tears to y/n's eyes.
"you haven't heard from him have you?" she asked in a whisper, not knowing if she truly wanted the answer. the last communication she had with the youngest halstead had been throughout the last period of his mother's life until a little after the funeral, however after not receiving a reply once again and her life on a down spiral she surrendered.
"no, no i haven't," however y/n couldn't help notice that something didn't seem right. maybe it was the way that he shuffled in his chair, refusing to pull his eyes away from the sky to meet her own sad ones. however before she got the chance to confront him, he brought himself to his feet. "wait one moment, i have something for you." watching as he disappeared back into the house, y/n tried to figure out what was going on with him? maybe he wasn't sleeping again? it had been the same for months after the funeral, but she thought he was healing just slightly. she really hoped he had been.
a couple moments later, pat reemerged this time the thing he held in his hands had stolen every inch of y/n's focus. the metal lump that held a thousand memories was being cradled, similar to the way she had been holding it when he had handed it to pat. the sound of his wife's voice in the last clip was something that pat had severed for the last year and a half. it was the thing he would fall asleep to and the thing he would play when he woke up. his liz was still alive in the camera, she was still his liz.
"i thought- i thought you-." y/n couldn't muster up a single thought to vocalise as she was passed the camera. her eyes ran over each dint, scratch, stain that had been acquired over the years. every memory she severed had the image of the red flashing light in it, and yet the person in those videos was someone she no longer recognised.
"this is your life, and i know it feels like it's over, but you have so much to live for and if these videos don't show you that then i don't know what else will." in a rush of uncontrollable emotion, pat wrapped his arms around the daughter he never had and held her as she let out a quiet sob, unsure how to feel.
returning to their seats, pat held y/n's hand as they sat for what felt like days watching the sky deepen. as pat seemed to pray to the heavens that his liz was alright, y/n let her mind run ablaze with unresolved thoughts and emotions as she watched video after video.
it was moments before 2014 came along when her phone let out a painful shrill in search of attention. letting out a small groan, she pulled it from her back pocket, pausing the prom video to answer.
"hello?" she answered.
"y/n where are you? come on, the countdowns about to begin!" her mother yelled clearly unable to hear herself. sighing, looking over to pat who seemed to be hiding something in his eyes, she agreed before hanging up the phone.
"it's not too late for you to come with me you know..." she fluttered her eyes in a humorous attempt at convincing him. the deep chuckle that arose from pat's chest spoke enough for her to work out what was coming next.
"as much as i would love to chit chat with celia and clare over a mini quiche, i'm gonna have to decline." pushing herself off the chair, she leaned over to kiss his cheek softly, pulling away to see the small smile.
"happy new year, pat."
"happy new year, y/n."
--
the moment she reappeared in her house, she was pretty much been jostled around. somehow the camera that she had walked in with had disappeared from her gasp, and she had made her way to her mother's sight closest to the tv as the countdown clock appeared on the screen. the way her mother smiled at her was slightly unnerving, she knew the woman better than anyone in this world, and just like pat, she was hiding something.
"ten!" they began to chant.
"nine!"
"eight!"
"seven!" a drink was pushed into her hands, which she concerningly took without hesitation. she wasn't even sure who gave it her, but a drink was exactly what she needed right now.
"six!"
"five!"
"four!"
"three!"
"two!"
"one!" suddenly the tv screen was a picturesque screen of fireworks exploding around the country before the whole room erupted in a cheer.
"happy new year!" suddenly everyone was locking lips with their loved ones, friends and whoever was closest to them. however y/n tried to step back, and disappear into the crowd offering a couple of smiles until suddenly she hit something, or someone.
"shit, i'm sorry." she immediately gasped as the drink she was holding splashed against the dress she was wearing, however when she turned to look at her victim her mouth dried out.
there, stood in her living room was jay halstead, in the same uniform that she had last seen him stood in on her doorstep the day he left. what felt like the whole world silencing was actually just everyone in the room turning to look at the pair of them, smiling as they watched the reunion of the couple that never was. however they neither jay or y/n could pull there eyes away from their counterpart.
for a moment they were 17 again, teenagers that didn't know a thing about the world whilst experiencing it together. but this was different, for they were older now. jay's face was more mature, with stumble around his jaw that made him look more in his twenties. y/n's hair was much longer and ever so slightly darker, but jay remembered how the winter did that to her.
"hi." jay smiled, reaching forward to move stands of her hair behind her ears to avoid it from covering up those eyes that were far more fragmented than they had been before. but then again y/n saw the exact same distortion in his own, like half a heart that was on the edge of collapsing.
but at the sound of his voice, y/n fell face first into reality. she remembered every unanswered letter, the loss of hope when she laid in bed completely alone wondering if he was even still alive. she recalled the nights she would sleep on the hospital chair besides his dying mother praying to every god out there that he would be brought back in time to to say goodbye. but it didn't happen, she was left in a void and she didn't know if she would ever be able to get out.
"i-i need to go." she suddenly mumbled, quickly brushing past the army ranger and through the crowd. the awkward, confrontational silence that remained in the room was already enough to tip her over the edge, which only worsened when she saw the red flashing light. stood on the stairs filming the whole debacle was her little brother, who wasn't so little anymore. noticing the shift in mood, he awkwardly lowered it and offered her a sad smile, before she escaped out the door.
what are you doing, she thought, you finally get him back and you are trying to create distance between you two? that was just one of the many nags that bounced off each memory relaying in her mind. so this was what was wrong with pat, he must of known. he knew what was planned, and he said nothing. y/n couldn't blame him, there was no one in this city that would have predicted that she would just walk out like that, well maybe one but he had only just rejoined her life so she couldn't be sure.
her feet lead her to where her heart wanted to be, she cursed herself out for being so stupid as to wear a dress and not grab a jacket during her whole walk out. but the bite of the wind wore off the more blocks that passed until she reached the old creaky gate.
pushing against the metal, even in the pitch black she knew her way. the amount of times she had ended up late at night in this very place gave her that advantage. as she approached the engraved slab that she had helped pat pay for, a sob raked through her body.
"god i wish you could be here right now," crouching down, she leaned forward to run her cold fingertips over the 'ELIZABETH HALSTEAD' scripture. mrs halstead always knew what to say, in any situation. jay and y/n used to blame it on the abundance of dr phil episodes she had watched over the years. yet there was a depth to her words that made your problem feel shared rather than suffocating. "although i'm sure you would be cursing me out right about now for being such an idiot." she thought out loud, remembering what the woman had said when she had told her about the kiss she had shared with the older's son.
she had joked about how it took long enough and what she was going to wear to their wedding, neither of them considering the possibility that she wouldn't get chance for her theory to prosper.
"if that's true, then she must despise me right now." the sudden introduction to the deep voice nearly produced a scream from the woman that turned to see jay staring longingly at the gravestone. just as he brought his eyes to her's, she quickly turned back around, running her hands over her face wondering if he would disappear and all of this would have just been a dream. only it wasn't it was something much more chaotic, filled with resentment, love and the unknown.
"your mom loved you and will more than anything, i don't think she could despise you if she tired," she hummed through a sigh, as jay took a seat besides her. similar to how she had, he leaned forward to run his fingertips over the softened stone, muttering something that he hoped only his mother would hear.
"i really fucked up, y/n/n," hearing the crack rip through his voice, had y/n's head snapping over to him as his shoulders shook slightly as he wrestled with his sadness. "i wasn't here when she needed me most, i wasn't here when you needed me most. she was dying and i wasn't even there to tell her i loved her, what kind of son am i?" the torment that was present in jay's eyes as he turned to look at the only woman that was on the earth to love him ate at y/n's soul, as she found herself wrapping her arms around him, comforting him like he did after the death of her father.
"you a son that made his mother unconditionally proud. she never stopped telling one everyone at hospital about her boys." swiping tears away from under his eyes, ignorant to her own that burnt a trail down her skin.
"i'm not the same guy that left 5 years ago, what i've seen, what i've done-," jay let out a deep breath trying not to fall into the a box of memories he wish he could set alight and never have to face ever again. thankfully the feeling of y/n's fingers tracing nothing in particular against his back grounded him, reminding him that he had been reunited with his home, with his family, with his first and only love. "i got out of there, but that doesn't mean that the war in my mind isn't still on going."
y/n wished she had the answer, a solution, something to help him but she just didn't know what to say. instead she pulled him in tighter, feeling every tip in the think material of the uniform. a uniform that wasn't the jay she knew, but the jay that the army had created, but she knew underneath the camo was still the boy that held her when she feared the lightening outside, or the teenager that broke bryson ellis' nose after he spread rumours about their brief romantic encounter. he was her saviour, he always had been.
"your letters, i did get them. got each one of them in my bag, used to read them before i went to bed. i tried writing back, but i couldn't think of anything to say. i couldn't make anything better and i didn't want you to worry, but i realise that i only made everything worse. i'm just so sorry." pulling away, now it was jay's turn to hold her. in fact he pulled her so close that she was practically in his lap, embracing his body heat with open arms.
"everything's changed, jay," she mumbled, her forehead resting on his chest as she spoke softly. "your mom's gone, your dad's lost, and- and then you and me. last time we saw each other we kissed, we kissed. i- just, i don't know what's happening but i can't stop it." for a moment they both sat there, taking in just how much had changed since they had last been y/n and jay not y/n and jay.
with much care, jay placed his hands around her jay prompting her to look at him. the intense look in his eyes didn't falter for a minute, as he admired the swirls of colour in her's.
"i have been in love with you my entire life, and that is one thing that will never change." declaring his love for y/n y/l/n had always been something jay fantasised about, even as he was stood in a war zone, however never had he imagined it would be in a grave yard nearly an hour into the new year as they fought against the frost. but then again, he didn't care where he was in the world as long as he was by the side of his girl, his love, his y/n.
in a rash moment of euphoria, y/n grabbed his face and pushed his lips against his as if making her own statement to the universe. every ounce of her own soul fuelled itself into something so powerful that was out of the pair's hands. as jay moved his lips against her own, the meaning burnt their insides until they had no choice but to pull away to catch their breath.
with their foreheads touching, for the first time in what felt like 5 years a genuine grin was mirrored on the pairs lips.
"i'm in love with you too." y/n breathed out ruggedly, clearly catching jay by suprised as his eyes widened before the smile on his face got wider.
"wait really?" those had been the words he had wished to hear for every birthday since he was 11, now hearing them made everything a little more brighter. his heart was bumping so quickly, y/n could feel it against her own, yet she said nothing, too caught up in the moment.
"i think it was ignorant of me to think i wasn't years ago. you are it for me, jay halstead." she smiled leaning forward to press another kiss on his lips, this time though it felt as though she was putting the final period on the end of a chapter that neither of them wanted to experience again. for this was a new beginning, the beginning of the story of their lives, together.
#the story of us#jay halstead#jay#halstead#chicago pd#cpd#chicago#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead x you#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead x y/n#upstead#adam ruzek#kevin atwater#hank voight#will halstead#erin lindsay#hailey upton#pat halstead#heartbreak
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The One For Me - Aaron Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Requested: By @nuvoleincielo
Prompts: #16, #30 and #63 from the fluff-list.
Warnings/notes: This is my first time writing for Hotch and Criminal Minds in general so please be patient while I get used to these new characters, might be slight OOC😭 It’s also the first piece I’ve written in a few months now and I’m a bit rusty, so please let me know what you think. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Send in more requests for Hotch, Reid and Morgan and let me know if you want to be added to the Criminal Minds taglist! I hope you like it💕
Wordcount: 4118
Summary: Hotch has doubts about letting your relationship go further and you reassure him that he’s what you want.
After being raised in one of New York’s worst, most crime ridden and low poverty neighborhoods by a family who was constantly targeted by the law enforcement, the last thing you’d expect was that you would become an active worker of said law enforcement.
Your mother died ten minutes after giving birth to you and your father had never been a part of the equation, most likely having ran the second he found out your mother had gotten pregnant. With no other immediate family, you ended up in the system, where you were stuck for the first seven years of your life.
You jumped back and forth between families of all kinds but for reasons unknown, no one wanted to keep you. It wasn’t until a couple adopted you two days before your eight birthday that you finally felt like you belonged.
They had many children of their own as well as more foster children, all between the ages of ten and twenty-five at the time of your adoption. On top of that, the children had children of their own and aunts, uncles, cousins and friends stayed with you more often than not as they struggled to hold on to homes of their own.
It wasn’t the most ideal way to live, a dozen people staying under the same roof of a two bedroom house, but you had dinner on the table every evening and the love for family was strong, so despite the conditions you lived in and the struggles you were forced to face on a daily basis, you guessed you couldn’t complain; you’d had it better than most.
The people who lived in those parts were always getting pinned for various kinds of crimes, just so the police could get it out of their hands and go on about their lives.
The male members of your family and the company they kept were some of the biggest targets even though they rarely did anything wrong, but despite the injustices they faced every day, they remained respectful when staring in the face of a cop.
You, on the other hand, despised them. You were an outspoken little girl, too feisty for your own good and on more occasions than one, you’d ended up pissing off some rich kid in school for which your dad and uncles were forced to pay the price.
You’d always hated the injustice the less fortunate suffered every day, but it wasn’t until you witnessed your first murder at fifteen that your interest of making the world a better place really piqued.
The victim had been one of the boys living in your neighborhood. He was two years older than you and he always gave it his all to make something out of himself. He walked with you and your younger brothers and cousins to school every day to make sure you got there safely, studied hard, kept out of trouble and always remained respectful.
The only reason he died was because his skin was the wrong color in the eyes of the law and because he was born into a less fortunate neighborhood, and it was then your eyes truly opened to the police brutality and misuse of power plaguing your country.
You joined the police force when you were nineteen years old and you stayed there, on top of your game and determined to do it better than the bad ones, until you were twenty-one.
At that point, most of your family had passed away either out of old age, or simply from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your determination to help people was stronger than ever.
But even you, the tough little firecracker as your uncles had always called you, could only tolerate so much.
After two years on the force, you got tired of being undermined by your male co-workers and set out to step up your game, taking up studies of criminology and psychology among several other subjects.
You studied your ass off and was just barely able to get by with the money you had saved up over the years, and at twenty-four, you finally had your degrees and clearance to begin working in higher places.
Starting off in New York, you stayed there for six months before you were transferred to Quantico, Virginia, where you were recruited by the one and only Jason Gideon who had heard word of your talent in the field.
You had worked with the team for little over a year now and Jason, who had always acted as a kind of mentor and father figure for you, was gone, having left only a letter for you and Spencer each.
Taking his place was Aaron Hotchner, a fellow agent to which you hadn’t paid much personal attention before the departure of Gideon. But things changed when he left, a lot of things.
Hotch was fresh out of his divorce, moodier than ever and in a really bad mental state. He stayed in his office until the late hours of the night, sometimes even the early hours of the next morning, barely slept and often forgot to eat if he wasn’t reminded by his team members.
Everyone urged him to take some time off, to go home and get some sleep and to take care of himself, and although he always told them that he would, he never followed through.
Up until then, you still hadn’t spoken much with him except for when you were working on a case. You were just an agent and he was just your boss, there was nothing else to it. But you couldn’t just sit by and watch as he neglected himself, so you followed your team-mates’ example and approached him.
He dismissed you at first, like he had done everyone else who had tried to offer him their support. But as time passed by, in some miraculous way, you made him laugh, and as you continued your attempts on offering him your ear to listen, he opened up to you, and you grew to become more than just colleagues.
Your first and only date had been on your initiative. You invited him to dinner at your house during your weekend off, to which he agreed.
You cooked together and although it started off as kind of awkward – more from his side than yours – you ended up kissing later that night after having had a bit too much to drink, and fell asleep together on your couch while you were flicking through your childhood photo albums.
The next morning, he was gone. You had always been an extremely light sleeper so you found it strange that he had managed to slip off without alerting you and also having managed to wrap you up in a blanket before he left.
He didn’t leave without a word though. A note was neatly placed on the coffee table in front of you, on which he explained that he needed to pick up Jack and that he didn’t want to wake you, finishing it off with a thank you for the night before.
That was the first and last time you spent time together, just the two of you, but it wasn’t like it was intentional.
You wanted to do it again, to continue exploring the budding romance between the two of you and to see where you could take it, and although you knew nothing of his feelings, he wanted the same thing.
But work got very stressful; stressful to the point where you could never find a moment to talk to each other if it wasn’t in the presence of the entire team. But the spark between you wasn’t gone.
It was still there in the way he would let his hand hover above the small of your back when you were walking side by side and step in front of you if you were ever in danger, and in the way you would always take a second to ask how he and Jack was doing, if they were eating enough and getting enough sleep, whenever you were heading somewhere; no matter if the team was with you.
It was there in the way he would always encourage you to go on the less dangerous tasks while he took the ones that were more life-threatening and in the way he would always smile, the slightest of smiles, whenever you were exchanging jokes or sarcastic remarks with Morgan, or messing around with poor, clueless Reid.
It was there, but it was unspoken. At least until now.
The case you had been working on for the past two days was that of Gilbert Stratton; a serial killer who had targeted young women, killed them, drained them of their blood, and then proceeded to hang the bodies up by their feet in trees all around the city.
You had caught him just in time to save the last kidnapped girl and you had originally been the one assigned to question him, but Hotch had stepped in last minute after the man had made a crude comment about how ‘girls like you always tasted the best’.
You had attempted to tell him that you could take it, but before you had even been given a chance to state your case, he had shut the door in your face and you had been whisked off by JJ.
You were the one out of the entire team who was the most interested in the psychology of a serial killer so you really wanted to be the one to interview Stratton, but you knew that Hotch had taken over for the sake of your safety and not because he underestimated you, so you couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad.
While he did his job, you settled at your desk with a sigh, getting to work on the heft stack of paperwork that had been building up throughout the week.
The first ten minutes you kept close track of the clock next to you, wondering why it was taking so long, but the more time that passed, the more focused you became.
Soon enough, you only had a few reports left and you had completely lost track of time, when there was a sudden bang behind you, sounding an awful lot like a door slamming shut.
And your suspicions were proven correct, when you looked up to see Hotch march straight the bullpen.
The corners of your lips tugged up at the sight of him, but the arising smile quickly fell again when he walked right past you, without even an acknowledging glance, heading into his office and shutting himself inside without as much of a word to anyone.
Left behind with dumbstruck looks on their faces were the team, glances of bewilderment being exchanged.
“What happened?” Reid asked the question you were all thinking after a moment of silence, just as Emily walked in from the interrogation room.
Rather than answering Reid’s question, she looked right at you, offering you a small, comforting smile. “I think you better go talk to him.” She said simply, and as confusion and anxiety bubbled up inside of you, you slowly drawled.
“Okaaay…”
They all watched you as you stood up from your seat, brushing down your shirt and turning off the lamp at your desk before heading for the stairs.
You could feel their eyes following your every move and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous of what you were about to walk into.
Everyone had gotten negatively affected by a case or unsub at some point during their career, most more than once. They were all very good at getting into your head, no matter how little you wanted to admit it. But you had never seen Hotch react this strongly to anything before. The only time you had really seen him snap was during one single case, right after Haley had filed for a divorce.
Still, you kept walking until you reached his closed office door, stopping only then to peek inside the blinded windows to see him sitting at his desk, hands rubbing over his face.
You knocked on the glass gently and in any other case he would have looked up and meet your gaze, but when his head kept hanging this time, you let yourself in, only when closing the door behind you cutting off the curious eyes of the others.
Once you were inside, you wasted no time in approaching Hotch where he sat by his desk, analyzing his every move which led you to only one question.
What the hell had Stratton said to him to make him this distraught?
He didn’t even look up as you reached him, keeping his eyes closed as you came to a stop beside his desk.
Treading carefully, you reached out and gently put your hand on his shoulder.
“What happened?” You asked softly, the sound of your words instantly bringing a long, heavy sigh out of his nose.
“Why are you doing this?” He wasted no time in replying, causing a crease to form between your eyebrows.
“What?” You asked back, confusion lacing your voice.
Finally, he brought his hands down from his face and slowly spun around in his chair, forcing you to drop your hand from his shoulder and to take a step back.
He stared up at you, face wiped free of emotion as always. But the eyes said it all.
“Why are you so adamant on being with me? Why do you try so hard?” He questioned you, taking you by surprise.
Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes grew slightly wider, and you took a moment to regain your composure after the, to say the least, unexpected question.
“What kind of question is that?” You asked once you finally regained your senses. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you want to be with someone? Try?”
One of your eyebrows sank again, leaving only one raised in question.
Hotch’s face softened slightly and for a moment, he averted his eyes, letting out another, smaller sigh from his nose before looking back up to meet your eyes once again.
“What I mean is, why do you want to be with me?” He asked again, clarifying and slightly shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief. “The second you walked into this office, both Morgan and Reid had their eyes on you, and they still do. They’re closer to your age, they’re energetic, humorous, full of life, while I’m ten years your senior, and can’t offer you what they can. So why do you want to be with me, when you can have them, or anyone you want?”
“What is it that they can give me that you can’t?” You didn’t waste a second in firing back.
You had no idea what had brought this on, but it was clear that it was bothering him and quite frankly, you found it ridiculous even though you didn’t like making it a habit to judge other people for what they were feeling.
“They can make you smile-“ He started explaining, and you instantly cut him off.
“You make me smile, all the time.” You shook your head, but your affirmation only seemed to fuel his frustrations even more as he was up on his feet within the next second.
“But I’m not- I’m not fun.” He stated, staring you down. “My clock is ticking. I’m ill-tempered, irritable, too serious for my own good. I’m barely capable of taking care of myself at this point much less my son. I’m miserable and I’m a bully, who only cares about this job. Why would you want to be with someone like that?”
“Where is this coming from? I thought we had something good going.” Your face fell slightly, and you carefully reached your hands out to grab a hold of the front of his suit, taking a small step closer.
“Is this because of Stratton? Is he the one putting these doubts into your head?” You asked, keeping your eyes on your hands for a short moment before looking up to meet his heavy gaze staring down at you.
And once your eyes met his, he knew there was no point in lying; you were a profiler after all, and a good one at that.
“He did.” He confessed calmly, his lips pursing into a straight line.
“Aaron…” You began, the softness of your voice matching the one in your eyes.
“But everything he said is true.” He quietly interrupted you. “I’m not fun to be around, I push people away. That’s what I do, what I’ve always done.” His eyebrows rose and he stood still.
You knew about the doubts he had about himself. You know he felt inadequate as a friend, as a colleague, as a father, and more than anything as a partner after the way Haley had left him. You were aware of all of it, and yet the sound of those self-doubts being voiced aloud saddened you nonetheless.
Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you took another step closer, flattening your palms out on his chest and your eyes never leaving his.
“Those people didn’t deserve you in the first place. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they started building a relationship with you, whether it be a romantical or purely platonic one. They knew how passionate you are about your job, how much you value it. Them leaving… That’s on them, not you.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I’m not about to give up on you, on us, just because you happen to be a few years older than me. Derek, he wants to have fun, to be young. He may be attracted to me but he doesn’t want anything serious. Spencer isn’t ready for a relationship either, for obvious reasons, and either way, they’re not the ones I want.”
He watched you intensely as you spoke, lips still tight and strained. “What is it that you want?” He asked you, and you wasted no time in replying.
“Something serious and stable, someone who’s ready to settle down, and for me, the best chance to get that is through you.” You smiled, breaking your eyes away from his to follow your hand as you moved it up to his face. “Regardless of what other people say, you’re an amazing person. You’re passionate, driven, kind, loyal, gentle, and so much more. Despite what you may think, you do have a sense of humor and you’re the only one who can make me smile until my cheeks hurt. If that’s not a good man, a good person, then I don’t know what is. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
By the time you finished, the remaining doubt was wiped free from his face, a small, gentle smile instead having taken its place.
It was a funny thing, Hotch only ever spared the tiniest of smiles, and yet it was them that brought you the biggest and most intense amount of happiness. It was so rare to see his ever-stoic features reflect joy that you couldn’t help but light up like a kid on Christmas every time it occurred.
And true to what you’d always been told growing up, your smile was just so contagious that he couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight.
“Thank you.” He whispered, and visibly relaxed where he stood.
Your heart swelled in your chest when you took note of the way he was slowly but surely shuffling closer to you, picking up a significant amount of speed when you then felt his hand brush against the side of your hip.
But he didn’t dare touch you, hesitation still lingering in the air. So you did what your heart told you and grabbed a hold of his hand, and pushed it down into the curve of your waist.
From then on, he moved on his own, raising his other hand to mimic the same position at your other side, and you let your hand drop from his, instead raising them to busy with his crimson red tie.
“I know you’re struggling, with yourself, with Jack, and that you’re still processing the divorce. And if it’s time you want, then I’ll wait.” You spoke quietly, feeling your skin flush hot under his touch as his thumbs began to move over the thin fabric of your shirt. “But if you want to keep going and see where this can go, then I’ll be here every step of the way to support and help you in any way I can. You just need to let me in.”
More shyly then before, you dared loo back up at him through your lashes, hands stilling on his chest.
His smile was gone and his eyes creased together in concentration, but his eyes were soft and his head slowly nodded. “You’re right.” He said, and you allowed yourself to smile again.
“Aren’t I always?” You lightheartedly teased, tilting your head to the side.
In return, a smile spread across his face, his head shaking. “Don’t make me take it back.”
“No, no take-backs. What’s said is said.” You kept joking, your smile only widening.
He kept smiling down at you for a few seconds longer, but then his face fell again, just like that, out of nowhere, completely sudden. The gaze he held on your face grew absent as he got lost in his thoughts, and before you could question him about the sudden change of mood, the words spilled from his lips as if there was no tomorrow.
“I think I love you.”
Your mind instantly broke into a flurry of thoughts, countless emotions battling in your body. Nervosity and excitement ended up coming out on top, the mixture of the two creating an uncomfortable, sickly feeling in your stomach.
Your face fell in disbelief and your eyes searched his as he came back to reality.
“You do?”
Your voice came out so quiet and small, you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic, but luckily, you didn’t get much time to beat yourself up over the anticlimactic reacting as he continued.
“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to say it. Every day, this job puts all of our lives in danger. I couldn’t bear it if one of us died before I got the time to let you know how I feel.”
You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself growing weak at the knees as he absentmindedly rubbed your waist with his thumbs.
“Just a minute ago, you were trying to end… whatever this is, and now your proclaiming your love for me?” You asked.
It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to ease the anxiety you were currently feeling, but you realized quickly that said anxiety made it sound like the exact opposite of a lighthearted, teasing joke.
Luckily, the man standing in front of you was a profiler and knew that you meant no harm, understanding how shock could render your ability to react appropriately.
“I was never trying to end what we have. I just wanted to be sure that you were sure. That I won’t be holding you back.” He explained, and you finally managed to pull yourself out of the state of shock.
“Being with you motivates me. And I love you, too.” You confessed, the smile once again returning to your face as you moved your hands from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled right back. “Can I kiss you?” He quietly added, and your face instantly lit up in a mischievous expression.
“In the office?” You gasped dramatically, bringing your arms down, taking a step back and lightly slapping his chest. “Aren’t you feeling frisky today?”
A large smile stretched across his lips, his chest shaking as he chuckled. “Come here.” He said simply, and before you got the chance to argue, not that you would’ve if given the opportunity, he sat back down in his chair and pulled you down with him.
The chair spun in the process, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your small laughs of glee quickly became muted as he placed his lips on yours, replaced by low hums of contentment.
You clung to him as if your life depended on it, basking in the feeling of his lips moving against yours and his arms tightening around your waist, and as your entire body burned with passion, you realized that he really was the one for you.
Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92 @zizzlekwum @cozytruecrimeaddict @lovelynervouskingdom
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#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#hotchner imagine#hotchner x reader#hotchner#hotch#hotch imagine#hotch x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#derek morgan#spencer reid
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Prompt #125
Back on these, after a slight hiatus. Set during 6x18, if Lauren had a different ending. Slight Emily x Ian, more in memory only.
#125: Make A Wish
“Make a wish, Lauren.”
The voice behind her is as cold as the gun placed at her temple with a sure hand, his other clamped firmly on her shoulder. That voice is completely devoid of the lust it used to hold when he would speak to her, when it was the two of them, him and her, in a world of their own. A world that was dangerous yet exhilarating, yet a place she somehow never questioned if she belonged. Not that she had a choice. It started as an obligation, part of the raw deal that came with infiltrating an international terrorist organization. There was no limit in her quest to prove her loyalty, she quickly learned through the nights she spent in his bed, the mornings that followed. He worshipped her body with his own, took her past her own limits only to lull her to sleep in his embrace. She earned his trust but he also gained hers, and only after he uttered the words I love you did Emily realize just how entrenched she was, the only way out meant sure death for one of them. Ensuring her own survival meant further entangling herself in lies and believing them with all her heart. If you play, you play for keeps. The only thing she didn’t expect was for the lies to become the truth, because after a while, each time she repeated his sentiment, she meant it just a little more until she wasn't sure she knew the difference anymore.
Except this isn’t Tuscany or Galway, Rome or Dublin. Gone are the beautiful views from the balconies of his villa, where she could at least pretend like this wouldn’t all end horribly one day. The green pastures of Ireland don’t exist here, the springtime sun is gone. Instead, her ankles and wrists are bound to a chair in the middle of a cold warehouse in the middle of Boston, and she has mere minutes left to breathe, because she’s about to die at his hand.
“Lauren, are you ready to pay for what you’ve done? I told you I was going to take your life.” Emily closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. It’s been years and yet hearing his voice again, even after all this time, is like a window into the past.
Her security was built on a web of fallacy, it had been all along. Hushed promises behind closed doors in sound-proofed rooms in the middle of European cities that it was over, that she was safe, were mere falsehoods. She left Lauren Reynolds and the world of Interpol behind years ago, a conscious choice that was never regretted, only remembered from time to time in the quiet silence accompanied by the unrelenting pull of too much alcohol. She never lingered on it for too long, wouldn’t let herself go down that path, until she had no other choice, when she saw the messages from Sean that pulled her right back in.
Ian Doyle had escaped from prison. The moment Sean uttered those words Emily knew he would find her eventually; it was only a matter of when. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. There was hardly any time to get things in order, to arrange for them to be taken care of, to ensure her team would be safe in the days, weeks, months, even years after she was gone. Whether that meant disappearance or death was anyone’s guess, but not a choice she’d have to worry about because it wouldn’t matter. Emily lured him out of hiding in DC, followed him to Boston a few days later as he rampaged his way through her friends systematically one by one. It essentially stole any chance of saying goodbye, and she’d turned away from them one last time, through the doors of the BAU, only giving in to the sob she’d been holding in her throat once she was safely in the car.
“Are you afraid?” Ian asks, his hand moving from her shoulder to the side of her face. His palm is rough, hardened from his years in prison, yet there’s something fleetingly reverent about it. Emily always marveled at the contrast of his hands, responsible for the pain and suffering of so many, could be so gentle and adoring with her. But that was long ago; the tables have long been turned.
“No,” she lies, and he just laughs, brushes his thumb over her jaw almost adoringly.
She straightens her back, her arms trembling and her heart pounds through her chest. The gun cocks in her ear; she feels it brush her temple again.
“Make a wish, Emily. It’s time. You have ten seconds.” When she hesitates, her body tensing at his words, he chuckles. “Close your eyes. Sometimes it helps.”
She obeys, and, it’s Aaron’s face she sees, brief moments in time as her life flashes before her eyes.
“Ten.”
It takes almost a month to speak of the first kiss (it happened after a few too many beers one night with the team) and two more weeks before there is another. The second time around they’re stone cold sober (it’s better that way), and when he asks if she’d like to go out with him sometime, she blushes with a resounding “yes.”
“Nine.”
Their first date is one she’s always held close to her heart. He’d made reservations, planned dessert, and on a whim, she bought a new dress just for that occasion even though there were more hanging in her closet than she could count. This one was dark green, with an open back, and she knew right away it was the one. Except they never made it to the restaurant, because a case in Memphis called them away the morning before. She only smiled when there was a knock at the hotel room door late on the evening that should have been spent with their heads bent together over a table in the back of a picturesque Italian restaurant. But instead he held a bag of takeout, wearing a grin while uttering the words “Plan B?”
“Eight.”
He’s still inside of her for the very first time, unable to focus his mind on much of anything because Emily is still panting his name in his ear, when he decides he doesn’t want to be with anyone else, ever again.
“Seven.”
In Colorado, mere hours after the compound went up in flames, Aaron can hardly be objective as she ambles toward the hospital exit with discharge papers in one hand, the other cautiously guarding her broken ribs. Her face is bruised, her clothes dirty, and while Reid is just a few feet away dozing fitfully in chairs, Aaron goes right to her, thumbing her cheek in a rare display of public affection. “I’m alright. It’s not as bad as it looks,” she tells him bravely, even though she’s already sore, muscles aching, exhaustion starting to cloud her every thought. “I just want to go home.” In those moments, Aaron realizes he is the closest thing to home she has right now, and he doesn’t leave her side for the rest of the night.
“Six.
As she stares at JJ’s newborn son cradled in her arms, Emily wonders, with a fleeting glance at Aaron, if she’ll ever have the chance to do the same thing. Now, she never will.
“Five.”
On many mornings, Aaron wakes her up with coffee on the nightstand and gentle hands pulling the covers from her legs, pushing the hem of his shirt past her hips as he settles her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes aren’t even open before she’s already rocking her hips up towards him, an uncoordinated hand grappling for something to hold onto. The way he moves, slow and determined, is a contrast to the speed at which they’re used to, frantically moving from one case to the next. He’s taught her to be patient; he’ll get her there eventually, but she’s not in the mood to wait this morning. “Aaron,” she breathes his name, but he shakes his head in tandem with the flicks of his tongue. “Soon,” he assures, a promise he’s never broken. And true to that promise, he sends her spiraling into bliss a few moments later.
“Four.”
“I want to tell Jack,” Aaron says one evening when they’re sitting in traffic in the middle of Dallas, on the tail end of a case as she gazes out the window. “About us.”
“Three.”
“Can Emily stay for dessert too?” Jack asks innocently, his face covered in spaghetti sauce as the plates are cleared from the table. It’s about time they told him why his father’s pretty friend from work was spending more time than usual at the apartment, why a sweatshirt was left on the couch the week before, why there’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom and a few extra bottles in the shower. It’s been something they’ve held off on, Haley’s death still fresh and the timing not quite right. But the look on Jack’s face tells him everything they need to know, and Emily’s heart swells when Aaron smiles and murmurs, “sure, buddy.”
“Two.”
The two and a half years they spend together, in some semblance of the word, one way or another, are some of the happiest she’s ever known, the most peace she’s ever felt.
“One.”
I hope you can forgive me, for never telling you the truth, she thinks as she pictures the hurt and pain that will darken on his face when he finds her body. Emily knows they’re coming, but they’ll be too late. Tell Jack I’m sorry too.
Her eyes flutter closed again on their own accord as her lip trembles in unbridled fear. It’s so silent in the warehouse she hears the gentle scrape of Ian’s boots on the ground as he steps back, taking a steadying breath of his own, his finger curled around the trigger.
This is it. Make a wish.
The gun fires; she’s acutely aware of the throbbing echo in her ears as the sound reverberates, which confuses her, because it’s not supposed to be this way. It’s a dissonance of sounds - things she shouldn’t be cognizant of because the bullet that pierced the air is supposed to be in her head. But another voice - she recognizes this one instantly too - bellows something she can’t quite decipher, calm and steady, accompanied by the thunderous footsteps of a team of agents that sweep into the room. Glancing down at the concrete ground Emily sees Ian’s body, his gun a few feet away. A pool of blood seeps around him, her stomach lurches at the sight of his head split open, and she has to look away toward the small window, where the dawn of another sunrise has started to bleed through the sky.
They made it.
“Emily!” It’s the same voice as the one from moments before, and when she realizes what just happened, Aaron is already kneeling in front of her, frantically working at the plastic zip ties that have cut welts into her wrists and ankles. He’s shouting at someone that isn’t her, something about hurry up, and soon she’s freed, but her limbs don’t want to work correctly or coordinate at all. They don’t have to, because strong arms are pulling her into his chest, her chin hits his vest, and the scent of him nearly splits her heart in half as he lowers her to the ground.
And for the second time since this hell began, she starts to cry, her fingers clenched around the fabric of his shirt. Through the deep sobs she attempts to speak, apologies that aren’t even close to coherent, the adrenaline that’s coursed through her already starting to give way to exhaustion. But words won’t work either, and he shushes her with a finger to her lips, matted hair pushed out of her face as Aaron thumbs away the tears that collect in her eyes.
“It’s over,” he soothes, repeating the words over and over, until they both believe it. He’s unaware of the extent of her injuries, won’t risk adding to them as he signals for a medic. She breathes through the tears, her chest heaving, the only thing she’s remotely aware of is the beat of his heart, unsteady against her own.
It’s over, she reminds herself as she takes one last look at Ian’s dead body a few feet away, a reassurance to herself that this is in fact real, that he can’t haunt her again. And as she lays on the ground, enveloped in the protective embrace of Aaron’s arms, Ian’s words linger in her mind.
Make a wish.
#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfiction#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotchniss fic#prompts#Ian Doyle is here too#I've been sitting on this one for awhile and finally worked up the motivation to do it
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Afterbirth: A Post-Series Osblaine Fanfic
Summary: What happens when the fighting stops? Nick and June find out.
It took time for everything to calm down after Fred, the forest and everything that came after. In a simple story, Nick would come back to Canada with June and turn himself over to the authorities with information in exchange for immunity. In a more romantic one, they would escape together. But, that didn’t happen. At least not right away. Nick returned to Gilead and June returned to Canada, neither of them entirely content with their decisions. But they had a duty. June, to try to rebuild what she had left behind. Nick, to destroy it.
Neither were particularly successful at first. June was originally going to leave, but Luke convinced her to stay, still unwilling to give in even when confronted with the worst of her character. But, it was futile. Luke wanted his wife back, but she died in that forest seven years ago. For weeks, they circled each other like wounded animals, trying not to spook the other while piecing together a relationship that no longer fit. June didn’t want to accept it. All that time, she had been fighting to get back to Luke. But, when she looked back, it wasn’t that straight-forward. She had stopped fighting for Luke a long time ago.
Back in Gilead, Nick was met with a nation teeming with renewed patriotism. The Waterford saga had stirred the nation’s sentiment. No doubt helped along by a steady dose of propaganda put out by the State. Everyone else just didn’t understand. They were poisoned by immorality that rotted them to the core. To where they couldn’t see the righteous good that Gilead had done. They didn’t understand. They never could.
It was maddening.
“You made a real fucked up place,” Nick said to Joseph, swirling the bourbon around his glass slowly.
Joseph took a sip of his own, jaw tight. “Right back at you.” Settling back into his seat, he wryly added, “Talk about buyer’s remorse.”
“It’s up to us to fix it. To end it.”
Joseph looked over, eyes cloudy behind his glasses. “I know.”
In the end, it was Gilead’s own pride that brought its ruin. In the early days, when salvagings were more frequent, and brutal, each one was videotaped. They were initially used in the Red Center as cautionary tales. Stay in line, or you’ll end up on the end of a rope. In the beginning, it was effective. Back when people still thought there was an end in sight. But then, people lost hope and, with that, fear. Resistance bred, messages sent through muffins and scones. Eventually the videos were phased out of the Red Center, and they were supposed to be destroyed, but like many things that the Commanders were supposed to do, they didn’t.
Seven years later, the videos had their grand debut on the landing page of the online New York Times and went viral. In another setting, Gilead would have been proud. They were front-page news. The troops came a week later.
Both Nick and Joseph offered themselves up, promising a look at the inner workings of Gilead and enough information to indict every other Commander rounded up in exchange for immunity. Waterford had provided limited information before his death, so it was an enticing proposition. Joseph had always been meticulous with his paperwork, and he handed it all over to the Canadian government. A paper trail all the way back to the first insurrection.
“You might want to get yourself some snacks. It’s a long read.”
At first, it didn’t seem like the deal would go through, but then it did. Joseph called it a political move, but secretly, Nick thought something else. Stepping out of the Provincial Court of Law, sun bathing his face, Nick believed for the first time in miracles. But, there was still one more to go. And she was sitting on a bench.
His feet moved of their own accord, and when he was in front of her, he murmured, “How did you know I was being released today?”
June gave him a sliver of a smile. “I have my ways.”
He crouched in front of her, instinctively resting his hands on her knees. After a second, he realized he didn’t know if he could still touch her here. A lot could change in six months. Regimes fall. Relationships change. But when he pulled back his hands, she quickly grabbed onto them and held his hands in her lap. Her grip was tight and he noticed then that her eyes were filled with tears. He quickly moved closer, bracing one hand on her jaw as he said, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, June.”
“I know it is,” she said, grinning wide. “It’s more than okay. You’re here.”
It had been rare to see her this incandescently happy back in Gilead, and Nick decided that he never wanted to see her another way. He kissed her and when she kissed him back, for the first time in months, he felt at peace.
“How is Hannah?” he asked. When the Canadian troops had taken control of Gilead, he used what weight he had left to make sure Hannah was on the first flight out to Canada.
June grinned, wiping at her eyes. “She’s good. Really good. It was difficult at first. She was confused with everything. But, she’s settled in now. Obsessed with her little sister. She wants to hold her all the time.”
Nick felt as if he had no breath when he asked, “How is she?”
June covered her hand with his. “Our daughter is beautiful.”
She stood up and tugged his hand for him to do the same. “Come on, let’s go see her.”
“Where?”
June looked over at him. “Home.”
Home.
Part of June had been worried that she and Nick wouldn’t know how to be together without Gilead. They had lived and loved with such intensity since the beginning, that she didn’t know what it would look like for them to lead a normal life. Have breakfast together. Watch Netflix. Go grocery shopping. It turned out, it looked a lot like how she remembered. There wasn’t much time for it during the trial. Nick had to be there every day and she went of her own accord, sitting in the back and watching the testimony. She expected to feel something at it all coming to an end. Maybe happiness. Relief. But, all she felt was tired. She had spent the better part of the last seven years fighting Gilead. She was finally ready to leave it behind.
She and Nick planned to celebrate the end of the trial with a dinner out, but they ended up ordering takeout and falling asleep by ten. When she woke up the next morning, sunlight came in through the half-open blinds, bathing Nick’s face in a warm, golden glow. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm tightened around her waist.
“Good morning,” he said, brushing a kiss against her hair.
“Good morning.”
They laid together for a while, not talking, and then she murmured, “It’s really over, isn’t it?”
“There could be appeals.”
“There probably will be," she said sardonically. “But, the damage is done. That place. Those people. It’s over.”
She knew it was an over-simplification. They both did. Gilead had always been more than a place. It was a belief system. But, after what had come out during the trial, it could never take hold the way it had. Not for a long while.
“It’s over,” he agreed.
They laid there for a few minutes, silence stretching between them and punctuated by the sound of children playing outside, and June asked, “How do you feel about pancakes?”
“Pancakes?”
She nodded. “I have a mix. And chocolate chips. I always make them when I have Hannah. So far, I’ve gotten no complaints.”
“She’s eleven,” he deadpanned.
She turned on her stomach, resting her chin on his chest. “I think we have some bacon in the refrigerator, too. And eggs.”
He grinned. “That all sounds good.”
They got out of bed, June tossing over her shoulder for Nick to get Nicole from her crib, and then she was making pancakes, singing along to some music she put on her phone. Nick made eggs, burning the first batch, but then getting the second just right. They made the bacon in the microwave, a convenience that June still found novel after her time in Gilead. They sat down together, Nick cutting up small bits of pancake and eggs for Nicole. It was odd sometimes to think that this much joy had come from such a joyless place. But it had. One of life’s mysteries, Aunt Lydia would say. Probably followed by the cattle prodder. June wondered then if this was her real triumph over Gilead. Not escaping, but finding something good within its festering walls.
“June?”
Nick’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Yeah?”
“I asked what you wanted to do today.”
It was a simple question. A simple answer, too, that still felt revelatory.
June picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite off the end. “Whatever we want.”
#The Handmaid's Tale#osblaine#osblaine week#June Osborne#Nick Blaine#June x Nick#June Osborne x Nick Blain#reunion fic
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Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Seventeen
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Title: “I may just take your breath away”
Relationship: Jemily
Summary:
Exams, pizza, board games... what more could a girl ask for?
Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.
Read it on AO3
Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty
“That was a lot of chess,” Emily complained, nearly chugging her latte as she and Spencer left the coffee shop.
She pulled her beanie onto her head and braced herself for the snow as the taller boy held the door open for her. Emily almost slipped on the slushy tile floor on her way out but managed to keep her balance.
“Fifteen of the multiple-choice questions to be precise,” Spencer replied. The salted sidewalk crunched under their feet as they made their way across campus.
“I’m so glad it’s finally over,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had enough philosophy to last me a lifetime.”
“I’m enrolled in ‘Minds and Machines’ next semester,” he said. “I think I might try and get a double minor this time around.”
“What’s the goal? Three PhDs by the time you’re 24?” Emily quipped.
He was well on his way, having completed his engineering degree before she managed to graduate high school. He was 17, only two years younger than her, but somehow seemed like a kid. A kid with more education crammed into his brain than she could ever master in her life.
“Something like that,” he replied with a smile. His hair was getting long and he had tied it back during the exam. With last names starting with P and R, they were seated near each other in the large exam hall, and she glanced over at him as he fussed with his hair.
They stopped at the red light, watching as the cars and busses wooshed past them, sending the slush flying into the snowbanks. It had been a fairly sunny day, but bitterly cold. Now, the sun was setting and the campus was bathed in a warm golden glow. The snow had fallen the night before, leaving fluffy white snow covering their campus.
Emily had spent most of the day holed up in the library with Spencer, with him quizzing her on fallacies and philosophers. With his eidetic memory, he only really needed to read the material once. Earlier in the semester, she did feel useful when it came to editing each other’s essays. He always got bogged down with detail, word vomiting everything he knew, and she helped him with his structure and argumentation.
More studying awaited her back in her room. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she thought about the upcoming evening spent hunched over her desk studying criminal justice, a subject that left her questioning her degree half the time as she was forced to learn about the muddled ethics of justice.
That week, she had survived on minimal sleep, eating mostly bagels and coffee to sustain her. Her body was protesting with each step, and she had suffered from a constant tension headache for as long as she remembered. At least her college had that golden retriever walk around at the library yesterday, she thought to herself, sarcastically. Animal therapy definitely relieved all her stress. As if petting a dog for five minutes would fix the anxiety of finals season.
Two more exams, she reminded herself. You’ll make it.
Despite this mantra, Emily was conflicted. While finals were killing her, the end of the semester also meant winter break. Emily would be forced to go “home�� for the holidays. For most college students, that meant going back to their respective towns and being surrounded by their loved ones. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t have anywhere she called home. Last winter break, her mom had at least been in DC, and Emily was able to catch up with some of her international school friends who were in the city. This time, her mom was stationed in London, and Emily knew she’d be roped back into her old life. She didn’t know anyone there and knew most of her break would be spent alone.
The last place she had called home was Rome, and now that was tarnished by her complicated past with that city.
Emily was good at being alone. Being an only child of a workaholic single mom meant she learned to keep her own company. She read a lot. She got good at running away, escaping her nannies, and skirting security in order to roam free. She’d be fine.
The problem was that Emily had gotten used to this. She rarely spent a moment alone these days. Whether it was walking to class with Spencer, or Hotch, or Derek, getting lunch with the team, surprise coffee dates with Penelope and spending almost every evening with her girlfriend, she hadn’t been left alone in ages. She didn’t miss it.
Their residence building had a warm yellow light shining out of the windows and a soft red brick facade. In the summer, ivy grew up the south facing side but in the winter, the ledges were covered in snow and the stone steps were slippery. She trudged forward, excited for the warm embrace of the dorm.
Spencer had other plans. He reached into the garish yellow plastic newspaper box that was stationed next to their doorway and retrieved this week’s newspaper.
“Come on Reid,” Emily said. “Just subscribe to the newsletter or something like the rest of us.”
He held up the cover to her in surprise. Usually it reported the news of a recent sports victory, or a change of policy announced by the administrators, or even a fun event held on campus. Sometimes there was even a dramatic protest or an important speaker coming to campus. But this week, the headline surprised her. In large font printed across the page read: “Multiple student politicians fired amid financial scandal.”
“That sounds bad,” Emily said. It did seem way more dramatic on newsprint than on a website, so maybe Spencer was onto something with his affinity for the printed word.
Grabbing a copy for herself, she then walked inside to escape the cold. Warm air greeted them as they entered their residence hall, and both students kicked the snow off their boots before trudging up the stairs. They read as they walked, but the route to their rooms was already muscle memory, so neither worried about stumbling on their way.
Normally, Emily wouldn’t willingly touch this sort of student politics with a ten foot pole. Sure, she was involved with the Criminology council, but there was a difference between the kind of person interested in petitioning for better accessibility to faculty events or running a bake sale, and the kind of students to embezzle thousands of student dollars like what the current student government executive seemed to be accused of doing.
She quickly ran her eyes down the page, the contents jogging a memory from Halloween, of Hotch and JJ discussing the early stirrings of said scandal.
“You know,” Spencer said, “I’m surprised they got a lot of this information, it’s notoriously difficult to file FOIAs for student governments, as they’re technically private corporations. So the fact that they got these files means that this is a much bigger scandal than one might assume.”
Corruption, bribery, embezzlement, nepotism. All words that jogged memories of hiding in the corner of political fundraisers, overhearing the worst of politics from too-drunk elites sipping on their wine and munching on charcuterie.
“I hate politics,” Emily said, stuffing her copy of the paper into her bag.
“I find it interesting. It’s basically a microcosm of our current political climate. In fact, I have subscribed to the print edition of fifteen student papers in the region,” Spencer said, “I like to keep informed on the coverage of student issues, and compare them to our own.”
“Why?!” Emily said with a laugh. “You know you can just look them up online.”
Spencer gave her a withering look, and she should have known better than asking about his aversion to tech. He loathed having to use his computer, as the LCD screens apparently gave him a headache. Penelope even gave him a pair of blue light glasses to attempt to alleviate the issue.
Then, he began to speak, at length, about the dying printed news industry and why print copies were better for understanding than screens et cetera. She made sure to nod and hum at appropriate points, but her mind kept wandering.
She wondered if her girlfriend was in her room. Emily missed her any time they were apart and she yearned to hold her in her arms once again. But she shouldn’t. She needed to work. She had too much to do. Her grades had slipped, slightly, this semester. Everyone warned her about how college would be harder than high school, but no one ever warned her how much the expectations were raised in second year.
Two more exams. She clutched her coffee tighter. She’d rather do anything else besides study at this point. Her body was exhausted, her mind frazzled. She wondered if she could even manage to get through a chapter of revision before conking out on her desk.
As she said goodbye to Spencer and struggled with her keys that were tangled up in their corresponding university-branded lanyard, JJ’s door opened.
“Hey girlfriend,” JJ greeted her, sounding way too much like a straight girl greeting her platonic friend for Emily’s taste. She gave her a pass because it sounded cute in her voice.
“JJ!” Emily said, somehow surprised to see her despite the fact that she lived right across the hall. Her girlfriend was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, with her straight hair tucked behind her ears and her face bare of make up. Her face was lit up with a smile, and Emily rushed towards her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.
“Hi JJ,” Spencer said as Emily and JJ kissed.
When they pulled apart, JJ gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and asked them how their exam went.
Spencer babbled about their Logic exams for a minute or two, as Emily basked in JJ’s presence. She grabbed onto her hand and found that it was so much hotter than her own and wasn’t sure if she held on tight because she was cold, or if she had missed her girlfriend.
“I’m just glad it’s over,” Emily said. “I never want to hear about fallacies again.”
Spencer seemed to want to say something, but fell silent at Emily’s tired expression.
“Wanna come in for a bit?” JJ whispered in Emily’s ear. Apparently she said so a touch too loud because Spencer replied instead.
“Sure!” he said, and then walked into JJ and Penelope’s room.
“I should really study,” Emily tried to argue, but a single glance into JJ’s deep, blue eyes had Emily melting.
JJ’s room was much messier than Emily had last seen it. Both desks showed clear markers of the ongoing exams, with papers and books piled high. In addition to this was an assortment of pillows strewn all over the floor.
“You guys are back early!” JJ said, after checking her watch, “I thought it was a two hour exam?”
“I finished in an hour,” Spencer said, “and Emily only needed an extra half hour on top of my time.”
Damn straight, Emily thought, feeling somewhat competitive with the boy-genius despite herself.
She really should study, but the prospect of seeing her girlfriend outweighed the desire to sit hunched over a textbook for another evening.
Emily and Spencer kicked off their boots, placing them neatly on the mat by the door before peeling their jackets off and hanging them on the back of her door. Emily wasn’t sure if she liked winter. Whenever her mother was stationed in the Middle East she yearned for snow, but now that she was experiencing the Nor’easter for the first time, the desert sounded like a good time.
“Well there goes my plan,” JJ said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air.
Spencer flopped onto Penelope’s neatly-made bed, collapsing into the assortment of pink pillows while carefully keeping his take-away cup upright. Emily sat down next to JJ on her bed.
“Your plan?” Emily asked.
“Yeah,” JJ said, sounding a bit shy. “I had this whole plan to make up a blanket fort here for you, and I would surprise you with it when you walked in.’”
JJ gestured with her hands at the mess. Blankets and pillows were strewn about, and a bundle of fairy lights were laying in the middle of the floor.
“Then you came back early,” JJ concluded. “Spence, I thought you’d keep her occupied longer!”
“You didn’t tell me that,” he replied. Spencer looked quizzically at her, shrugged, then took another sip of his coffee.
“I just wanted us to have a cute date night,” JJ admitted. “I know you’re so stressed, and you deserve a break.”
Emily grabbed her girlfriend’s moving hands and held them in her own. She felt overwhelmed. JJ was so… thoughtful. Caring. Attentive. So many things that were absolutely foreign to Emily. No one had ever tried to impress her like this.
“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We don’t need anything special to have a cute date night. You’re cute enough.”
JJ gave Emily a goofy smile in response.
“Okay,” JJ said. “If you say so.”
“You’re building a blanket fort?” Spencer asked. “I actually have some experience with blanket fort architecture.”
“You do?” JJ asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.
“Of course,” he replied, seeming almost offended that she questioned him. “It sparked my interest in engineering. I wanted to overcome the problem of chair-tippage when it came to building the structure, so I devised a system of counter-weights that I found increased the structural integrity by 53%. My mom always told me that I could be an architect, but I thought the sciences better suited my intellect.”
“Oh?” Emily asked, genuinely interested. How would someone measure the structural integrity of a blanket fort?
“Actually, I have some blueprints. Let me grab them,” he said, standing up and making a move for the door.
“Of course you have blueprints,” JJ laughed.
“I should probably go feed Gideon, anyway. I’ll be right back!” Spencer said. Before closing the door behind him.
“Gideon?” Emily asked.
“His fish,” JJ said, “the one he won at the fair. It’s named after his professor, I think.”
She shrugged. The kid was weird, they tended to just accept that.
“I guess Spencer’s joining us on date night,” JJ said. “Sorry. I know you’re stressed and probably want to be studying, but I thought we’d order pizza and just have one night off. Just us. And Spencer.”
JJ planted a firm kiss on Emily’s lips, leaving her dazed and blushing.
“Relaxing sounds perfect,” Emily said, pulling her girlfriend closer to her. “I can’t believe it’s already exams. This semester has flown by. Soon it’ll be winter break, and I won’t get to see you.”
“I can’t imagine you not being right across the hall,” JJ said. “Who will give me kisses when I want them?”
JJ kissed Emily, sucking on Emily’s bottom lip slightly before pulling apart to look at her.
“I know you’re joking, but I hope you’re not kissing anybody else, no matter the circumstances.”
With that established, Emily pounced on her girlfriend, pushing her onto her bed and kissing her deeply. She intertwined her fingers in the blonde locks that were splayed out in a golden halo and breathed in deep, taking in the warm scent of the lilac candle that burnt on her night side table.
All her worries melted away at JJ’s touch. Emily’s brain was filled with the feeling of JJ’s lips on hers, with her lithe form beneath her. Exams, student politics and thoughts of home were wiped away, and her stress faded into background noise.
JJ’s pliant form writhed under Emily’s, her hands sneaking below Emily’s sweater and dancing over her back. They deepened the kiss until they were making out like teenagers in JJ’s dorm with the door still open a crack.
This was how Spencer, accompanied by Derek, found them when they pushed open the door with blanket fort blueprints and bags of potato chips in hand.
Spencer made a surprised noise, which made Emily aware of his return. She jumped up and pulled apart from JJ with a dark red blush gracing her cheeks.
“Woah there ladies,” Derek said with a laugh. “Keep it in your pants!”
“Guys! I was gone for five minutes!” Spencer whined.
Emily stood up awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she watched JJ sit up and pat her hair down in a huff.
“Sorry,” Emily grumbled, not really meaning it. She would never be sorry for kissing JJ, but she was sorry for the awkwardness
“Pretty boy dragged me down the hall,” Derek said in explanation. He had Spencer’s rolled-up fort plans in his hand, and lightly smacked Emily’s head with it, making a comedic thwap noise as it made contact. “Hope you weren’t in the middle of something?”
“Only JJ’s legs,” Emily quipped to everyone’s surprise, even her own. JJ hit her jokingly and blushed.
“Hey!” Derek laughed, “Let’s keep this PG!”
“You called?” The voice of Penelope Garcia—PG if you will—rang out from the hallway, and within seconds JJ’s room was filled with just about all their friends standing around in a slightly awkward silence: JJ, Emily, Spencer and Derek were joined by Penelope with Hotch in tow.
The latter two of them had grown closer recently and walked into the room with white shopping bags with the walrus logo printed on the side, looking like they had just returned from out in the cold. Penelope and Hotch going thrifting together, that’s new! Emily thought to herself and decided to file the observation for later. The image of Hotch watching Penelope’s customary fashion show was enough to make her laugh under her breath.
“We’re building a blanket fort,” Spencer announced, changing the subject to the task at hand. “Are you guys helping?”
“Oh you know I will, boy genius,” Penelope said with an excited smile.
Emily looked over to her girlfriend. So much for date night.
———
Without much questioning about why they were building a blanket fort, the team got to work. In college, sometimes things just happened. Impromptu blanket forts were par the course. In their defense, any excuse to not spend the evening burying their heads in textbooks was a welcome reprieve.
It started with just a few blankets draped in the space between JJ and Penelope’s beds, but with Spencer’s instruction, a verifiable architectural marvel began to take shape.
While Emily knew that Penelope would be all gung ho for this sort of project, it was certainly amusing to see Hotch in his khakis and dress shirt crawling around on the floor like a child with the rest of them, tying off blankets and very seriously maneuvering the different parts of the structure.
Sheets were draped here and there, tied together to form ceilings and walls. Two chairs stolen from the common room, loaded with backpacks on the seat for support acted as the entrance to the fort.
While it was crawling space only, Emily had to note that there was a sense of awe when you emerged into the open space of the main fort-area. It was surprisingly big, fitting all six of them with ease. The key to the whole design was a curtain rod Hotch had stolen from the boys shower that lifted the roof up.
The design was strangely reminiscent of Baroque architecture, which she was sure was due to Spencer’s designs. This was a fact that Emily kept to herself. She always tried to rein in the ‘I lived abroad’ conversation points so her childhood could remain under minimal scrutiny.
Emily’s exhaustion transformed into excitement as she relished the time hanging out with her friends. Music played from Penelope’s computer as they worked, they began to work as a cohesive group, each member doing their share. It was nice to do something besides sit at her desk and obsess over memorizing facts and statistics, or figuring out the proper argumentation for an essay on a subject. Making sure that a bunch of blankets didn’t crash onto them was treated with the utmost seriousness, and the whole group was focused with intense concentration at their own tasks.
Spencer did, in fact, have literal sketches of blanket forts in his notebooks, but the details of which were fairly incomprehensible to her. While she believed that he did the math, his chicken scratch was just about indecipherable, and his drawing was little more than a few shapes on a page. Despite this, it was laid out on the centre of the dorm-room floor for them to reference.
At one point, as Emily stood on JJ’s wheely chair, she feared that the fort had all come crashing down as she lost her balance and grabbed at the blankets to stop her fall before tumbling onto Derek with a yelp.
“Sorry,” she muttered as she climbed back onto her feet and fought off the blanket that had wrapped her in a shroud.
She flinched as she realized she had ruined it all, a pit forming in her stomach. She looked at her friends in concern, but instead of yelling at her for her mistake, or shunning her for ruining it for the rest of them, they smiled at her and helped her up.
“It’s okay!” Spencer said cheerfully. “I know exactly how to reinforce that wall.”
“You okay, Emily?” Hotch asked, righting the wheely chair as JJ fretted over her.
“I’m good,” she answered, still confused as to why they weren’t mad at her.
Instead of making a big deal over the set back, they went back to work. Soon, the fort filled out and it returned to its former glory. Arguably, better than it was because they had draped fairy lights throughout the inside, making the space glow with a warm orange light.
Inside was filled with pillows and big enough for all of them to sit comfortably so it was a comfy lounge space. It was cozy and warm, the antithesis of the bitterly cold night air outside.
“You know what?” Hotch said. “This is a damned good fort, Reid.”
The group muttered in consensus. They all had piled into the space, and as the excitement wore off, Emily was wondering what happened next. What does one do in a blanket fort? She had vague memories of building one in her room, but she had just sat inside and read a book.
“I hear the RA’s storage room has a ton of board games,” Penelope said. “They pull them out for socials and stuff.”
“That’s all well and good, but we’re not asking Strauss to let us in,” Derek argued. “I still think she thinks we were responsible for that fire alarm last week. She’s been giving me the evil eye ever since.”
“Who said we had to tell her?” Emily said. “We could just… borrow… them…”
“I mean, they are for us to use, anyway.” JJ’s eyes had a mischievous look in them as she looked at Emily.
“That is true,” Hotch said, the scowl that was usually a fixture on his face turning to a smirk.
“That’s stealing, guys,” Spencer warned, as if they didn’t already know that.
“We’ll give them back,” Emily said with a shrug. “Come on!”
Penelope led the way to a dark wooden door on the main floor, it was labelled simply “Storage,” but the computer science student assured them that it was where the RA’s stored all of their supplies.
“It’s locked,” Penelope huffed.
“Do you have a bobby pin?” Emily asked her in a hushed voice. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she hadn’t learned how to pick simple door locks. She had trouble with deadbolts but a simple latch she could probably do within a couple of minutes.
The blonde pulled a hot pink bobby pin out of her perfectly curled hair. Emily snapped it into two, bending one end into a longer L-shape. Sticking that into the bottom of the lock and holding it in place, she used the other side to feel for the pins that held the lock in place.
Emily could feel all eyes on her as she confidently knelt in front of the doorknob, the group keeping watch for her as she worked. No one questioned how or why Emily knew how to do this. She had her reasons.
This definitely broke all sorts of residence rules and if they got caught, they knew they’d get into shit, but no one seemed to care that much. They just wouldn’t get caught.
After a couple minutes, Emily’s hands began to sweat. What if she couldn’t do this anymore? She tried to centre herself. She had made it through infinitely more stressful situations in the past. It was the eyes of her friends on her that made her nervous. She was finally accepted by a group, and she desperately didn’t want to let them down.
Then, it clicked, and she was able to turn the brass knob easily. Emily made a noise of excitement, got to her feet and yanked the door open.
Instead of an empty storage closet, on the other side of the door was Erin Strauss, their RA, in a passionate embrace with David Rossi. Her shirt was unbuttoned and he was in the middle of sucking on her neck.
“Dave?!” Hotch called out, startling the couple.
Both groups stood stock-still, neither knowing what to say. While Emily had hid the bobby pins, she wasn’t sure who was in more trouble, them for breaking into the room or their RA for using the space for unofficial purposes.
The room was small and cramped, with a pile of poster board mostly obscuring the one small window that lit the space. Strauss had been hoisted onto the desk, her legs straddling the other student. Emily could see a shelf filled with the board games stacked on the left side of the room, but they seemed unimportant at the moment. While Emily had known about their illicit love affair, she had never expected to see it in action.
“Hey guys,” Rossi said after a moment, his unwavering confidence carrying on to this moment as he pulled apart from Strauss, who was furiously buttoning up her shirt and trying to sort herself out.
“What are you all doing in here?” she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “This room’s meant for RA’s only.”
“Well,” Emily said, startled by her own audacity, “Dave isn’t an RA so…”
“We just came for some board games,” JJ said in her most diplomatic voice, despite clearly wanting to laugh at the situation, “then we’ll be off.”
“Take them and go,” the RA said in a strangled voice, her face beet-red and as she avoided eye contact like it was the plague.
Clearly not as embarrassed as Strauss, Rossi simply smirked, collected a few board games into his arms off of the shelf, then deposited them into Emily’s arms.
Realizing that given the circumstances, they couldn’t be picky with their choices, the stunned group thanked him then scurried away, back upstairs with their loot. The silence remained until they made it back to their floor, where they all burst into laughter.
“What on earth was that?!” Derek exclaimed.
“Rossi and Strauss,” Spencer muttered.
Emily and JJ made eye contact, remembering all those weeks ago when they had caught their friend emerging from the RA’s room down the hall in the middle of the night. They had known that Rossi and Strauss had hooked up that night, but had no idea that it was a whole relationship.
“I see it,” Hotch commented. “I mean, I don’t know your RA too well, but Rossi likes a woman with authority.”
Derek and Emily fake-gagged in an exaggerated manner at the comment.
“I think I need to bleach my eyeballs after that display,” Emily muttered.
“Ooo-kay!” JJ said, pointedly changing the subject. “It seems like we have most of the pieces to Clue… I think we could manage a game of that. We also have Scrabble, Yahtzee and Snakes and Ladders. Uh… also a pack of cards.”
“At least it’s not chess,” Emily said, thinking about her seemingly endless exam that afternoon.
“Agreed,” Spencer said.
“We do not have chess, no,” JJ said with a quizzical laugh.
———
After ordering a couple of pizzas to the dorm, they all settled in to play a board game. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to play Clue (or Cluedo as Emily continuously referred to it as). The board was laid out: it was vintage, with a teal and yellow colour scheme and some scuffs and rips showing its age. In their blanket fort, they were seated in a circle, all secretly looking at their Clue cards.
“Can I be Professor Plum?” Spencer asked before they had even gotten the pieces out of the box.
“Of course pretty boy,” Derek said, “I’ll take Mr. Green.”
“My sculpted god of thunder looks excellent in green,” Penelope flirted, choosing the white piece for herself.
“Did you know that in the original version of Clue, Mr Green was a Reverend, but they changed his name for American audience because they believed that the American public would object to a parson as a murder suspect?”
“Good thing you’re on our trivia team, Reid,” Hotch replied.
Emily was Miss Scarlet, of course, and was seated right next to JJ, who had chosen to portray Mrs. Peacock. Hotch claimed the remaining piece: Colonel Mustard.
Emily loved board games. Her nanny in France, who was a kindly elderly woman that Emily only knew as “Madame,” would play with her each Sunday after church. She has hazy memories from that time, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming into their Parisian apartment as she learned how to play Cluedo. Emily would always try to cheat, but knew better than to try to do so with her immensely observant girlfriend seated to her left, JJ’s hand resting casually on Emily’s thigh.
She looked at her cards and grinned. She had been dealt her own character, she noted, as Miss Scarlet’s name was printed in bold on the top of her first card. It felt weirdly validating to know that she herself was innocent. Also in her hands were the cards for the candlestick and pistol, as well as the observatory. She marked these off of her card and tried to gauge her opponents' reactions.
JJ was checking her phone with her cards face down, tracking the pizza’s arrival. Spencer was sprawled back, his long legs taking up way more room than was necessary, jotting down notes on some scrap paper. Presumably some statistics and probability for the possibilities of the cards that were sealed in the envelope in the centre of the board. Penelope smiled over at Derek and flirtatiously tried to sneak a peek at his hand.
After the initial rounds being dedicated to moving around the board, Emily finally made it into her first room: the lounge. There, she decided on her first suggestion.
“I suggest,” Emily said, in her most dramatic, formal voice, which was particularly suited to the role of Miss Scarlet, “that Mrs. Peacock committed this heinous crime in the Lounge with-” she hurriedly grabbed the candlestick, “the candlestick!”
She knew that it wasn’t the correct weapon, but using it would narrow it down to someone ruling out either JJ’s character or the lounge as the scene of the crime.
“Moi?!” JJ said, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “Your own girlfriend?!”
Emily grinned evilly at her, but internally she felt giddy. It was the first time she heard JJ use that word in front of their friends. JJ moved her piece into the Lounge. The others chuckled lightly at their antics.
“You have no alibi for the crime, Mrs. Peacock,” Emily said, “and I am merely making a suggestion.”
JJ glared at her, but said nothing. Emily turned to Derek, who was seated at her left.
“What do I do?” Derek asked, looking around the room, slightly confused.
“Do you have any of those cards?” Hotch asked.
“Yeah-” Derek said, moving to show his hand.
“No!” Penelope stopped him. “Just show one of your cards to Emily if you can prove her suggestion was wrong.”
He made an “o” with his mouth and sneakily showed Emily the Lounge card. Emily noted that, and that it was Derek’s card. Mrs. Peacock had yet to be proven innocent, and Emily gave JJ a suspicious glance.
She loved this game.
As the game progressed, Emily noted a few things about her opponents. A part of Emily was profiling her friends subconsciously, reading each of their strategies like a book.
Penelope always seemed to luck out on her dice rolls, covering a lot of terrain and gathering information like it was a cup of tea. But, she seemed to take it personally when someone accused Mrs. White of having killed Mr. Boddy and gasped every time someone made that suggestion.
Hotch seemed to take the game very seriously, and was at it like he was an actual police officer solving crime. But, it didn’t seem that he completely understood all of the rules, and definitely hadn’t played before, so he spent most of his turn grumbling as he skimmed the rule pamphlet.
Spencer, on the other hand, had memorized the rules, common strategies and probabilities of the different outcomes, so Hotch often looked over to him nervously as the boy wrote longhand equations in the notebook that he pulled out of his bag for the very occasion.
Derek also had never played before, and regularly made ‘accusations’ rather than ‘suggestions’ when he entered a room, frustrating Spencer to no end. But, Derek was smart and seemed to be picking it up as he went along. That was until he made the same suggestion twice in a row, both times making Hotch show him the exact same card. He asked Reid endless questions about specific rules, and more than once he made the boy double check in the rule book when Derek tried to make a rather unorthodox move.
JJ seemed to be the only one genuinely trying to have fun. She munched on the Cheetos that she stored in the bottom drawer of her night stand, and made conversation. Her strategy seemed to be exclusively focused on playing the game like it was the 1985 feature film Clue, playing the role of Mrs. Peacock with a fake accent and treating it like an actual murder-filled dinner party.
After a solid twenty minutes of gameplay, the pizza arrived. With minimal grumbling from Hotch, who was apparently on a roll, they took a break to eat.
“Did you see this?” Spencer said with his mouth full, lifting up the copy of the newspaper that he had grabbed earlier.
“Don’t get me started,” JJ grumbled and took a sip of her pop.
“What happened?” Hotch asked, the conversation piquing his interest.
Spencer explained—with the assistance of JJ who apparently knew one of the people involved through soccer—the entire scandal. Apparently, last year there had been very little interest in the leadership roles, so the President of the student government had simply waltzed into his role. He then hired all of his friends, his girlfriend, his roommate, and together they embezzled thousands of dollars of student funds.
“I can’t believe they’re getting away with this,” JJ muttered. “Is there no oversight?”
“It’s always the same,” Emily replied. “Who’s going to oversee them? The college? They’re corrupt too.”
“This sucks,” Derek said. “Wish someone good would run for government, for once.”
Emily shook her head in frustration. It all just reminded her of her childhood. Embezzlement, corruption and nepotism all were casual topics discussed over family dinner in her home. She had higher hopes for students her own age, would they not break the cycle? Or was it just a microcosm of the outside world?
“You should run Mr. Lawyer Man,” Penelope teased Hotch. “You could take any of these clowns.”
Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and went back to his pizza, brushing her off. Emily smiled at him. Penelope was right, he might actually do a good job if he set his mind to it.
The people that surrounded her now were nothing like her mother’s friends—or the kids she had been forced to hang out with when she was younger—they were genuinely kind, supportive, and seemed to like Emily for Emily. When she told them she was an ambassador’s daughter, they had been more concerned with the cool places that she had been able to travel to than whatever power she had. At college, Emily finally exhaled fully, slowly relaxing more and more into herself.
But, the topic of politics always set her on edge, especially since the semester was ending soon. Her mother had already begun to leave her voicemails about the galas, fundraisers and events that she was required to attend over Christmas break. She pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the warmth that surrounded her. With some music playing softly (a song that JJ liked by Vampire Weekend), the softness of blankets under her, and JJ leaning on her slightly as she ate her dinner, Emily felt at peace. She knew she could handle winter break, because she knew that these friends would be here when she came back.
After years of leaving a school midway through the year only to show up to some new boarding school or international school each time her mom was reassigned, Emily never had a chance to put down roots. But, with each bite of pizza, Emily felt herself becoming even more firmly rooted. Not to this place, but to these people as their lives became more entwined.
Once dinner was over, the game continued, and thoughts of politics left their minds. By then, Emily narrowed it down to the weapon (the candlestick), two rooms (the kitchen and the billiard room) and she was pretty sure that it was Colonel Mustard that had committed the crime.
She had a decision to make: walk all the way from the study to the billiard room, or risk being wrong by making an accusation. She was pretty sure both Hotch and Reid were on the right track, as the younger boy’s scribbling in his notebook had gotten even more intense and the older boy was beginning to look around suspiciously, as if the others were trying to read his notes.
She had pretty much ruled out Penelope, JJ and Derek as competitors, as the trio spent most of the time talking, and genuinely trying to have fun. Emily, Reid and Hotch were all way too into it, but Emily was competitive and this was her game. She wasn’t going to lose to Hotch, no way. Reid winning she could blame on his boy-genius nature, but Emily decided that Hotch was going down.
The two boys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, all eyeing each other across the board, the tension palatable between them as their competition became heated.
She nervously tried to move to the billiards room, deciding to play it safe. Better safe than disqualified. But, as soon as she made that decision, she regretted it as Spencer straightened up on his turn and said: “I’d like to make my accusation.”
“Write it down,” JJ prompted, as per the rules. He jotted it down in his paper.
Then, with bated breath, they watched as he grabbed the envelope out of the centre of the board, and read the cards. His face fell when he saw one of the cards, so he must have been wrong. He placed them back into their envelope and back onto the board.
“No dice?” Emily asked.
He shook his head.
“Statistically speaking that should have been right,” he grumbled. “My math was wrong.”
“Boy genius isn’t a good detective, huh?” Penelope mused.
A few turns went by, with Derek, Penelope, and JJ moving around the board or making suggestions.
Emily rolled the dice, making one square from a room. She sighed. She’d make a suggestion next round.
On Hotch’s next turn, he made an accusation, which he wrote down on a pink sticky note that Penelope had handed out when the game started. He checked the envelope.
Emily held her breath. She was sure he had it and that the game was over. She should just call it quits now. She went to bite her nails out of stress, but stopped herself, they were starting to get long and she wanted them to look nice.
A moment passed as Hotch compared his cards. After he saw the third card in the envelope, his expression revealed that was also wrong.
Boys, Emily thought. Always so overconfident.
She made a suggestion instead of risking it: “Miss Scarlet—er myself I guess— in the Billiards Room with the pistol.”
It was a gamble. If she was right, and the people who knew she had her own card and the pistol caught on, they would also know that it was the Billiard Room, because no one would be able to disprove her theory. If she was wrong, someone would have the card for that room, and she would know that the crime occured in the Kitchen.
The second seemed to be true, as Derek showed her his card with a small illustrated image of the Billiard Room on it. She was right. She knew what it was. But, she would have to wait until her next turn. She was going to win.
But, it was she who was overconfident, because as she was too busy preemptively celebrating her win, Derek casually made his accusation.
“Hey I’m right!” he exclaimed, holding up the cards and his own hot pink sticky note.
In his semi-cursive scrawl read: “Colonel Mustard, Candlestick, Kitchen.” These guesses matched the cards hidden in the envelope, and Emily’s own deduction that she planned to make on her own turn.
“You guys really thought I hadn’t played this game before?” Derek laughed. “I’ve got two sisters, board games were everything.”
“Were you hustling us, Morgan?” Spencer demanded.
He smirked.
“Should’ve put money on the outcome,” Derek said with a laugh. “I’d be rich.”
Emily threw her cards onto the table in defeat. JJ shot her an empathetic look, and Emily tried to stuff her frustration down to pat her friend on the back for the surprising win. He deserved it.
———
After the game concluded and the pizza had been completely eaten, the group parted ways, heading to bed, or for more midnight snacks or to finish up some studying, leaving JJ and Emily alone and to start? a game of Scrabble.
The board was ancient, and quite a few letters were missing, but with music droning on JJ’s laptop, and the soft fairy lights overhead, neither girl minded too much.
Emily looked at her letters: O, B, S, O, T, B, W and thought hard, rearranging the wooden pieces to try and formulate a word. After a long day of academia, and investing so heavily into the game of Clue, she probably had only one or two working brain cells and both were telling her to play the word ‘boobs.’
Her eyes flicked to her girlfriend, who looked absolutely gorgeous in the warm light. Her blonde hair almost glowed, and she had an adorable expression on her face. Emily couldn’t help but glance lower, thinking about the real world examples of her Scrabble word.
She played the word with a cheeky grin.
“‘Boobs,’ Emily?” JJ scolded. “Really?”
She sounded angry, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks and Emily could tell the girl found it funny.
“I can’t help it,” Emily said. “I haven’t thought of much else since last weekend.”
She raised and lowered her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, making JJ laugh and kick her lightly in protest.
JJ then played the word ‘throw,’ using the ‘o’ from ‘boobs’ to form her word, earning her thirteen points.
“I don’t think you can throw boobs, babe,” Emily said. “They’re usually attached.”
JJ rolled her eyes.
Emily made it her mission to find the funniest words possible, working extra hard (and missing out on some good points) in an effort to make JJ laugh. ‘Armpit,’ ‘meaty,’ ‘hoagie,’ ‘urine,’ ‘joint’ and her piece de resistance: ‘boner.’ All while JJ was playing incredibly normal, and often strategic words like ‘axis,’ ‘snow,’ ‘vain,’ ‘snag’ and ‘writings,’ hitting multiple double- and triple word scores on the way.
“This is fun,” Emily said, sneaking a handful of JJ’s Cheetos out of the family-sized bag next to the blonde, while she was distracted by playing her turn.
“I don’t understand how you’re winning,” JJ muttered.
Emily shrugged, “Guess I’m just a genius.”
“Reid? Is that you?” JJ joked. “Why are you disguised as my girlfriend?”
“Would Reid do this?” Emily said, leaning over toward her girlfriend and pressing kisses all over her face until she fell back. Then Emily straddled her, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace that left both girls panting.
“I would hope not!” JJ exclaimed with a laugh, making a face at the thought.
They laughed and went back to making out, with Emily careful not to disturb the game pieces. JJ sucked onto Emily’s bottom lip, making her weak in the knees and she struggled to support herself over JJ’s shorter frame at the motion.
“We should-” Emily tried to say between kisses, “finish the game.”
JJ kept deepening the kiss, going so far as to grab onto Emily’s butt to hold her in place on top of her.
“You’re trying to distract me,” Emily chided, “because I’m winning! I see right through your plot.”
She sat up and went back to her tiles before playing another funny word: ‘suck’ for twenty points. JJ grumbled,fiddling with her own tiles, as Emily collected a few out of the bag.
Emily was preening as she rearranged her own tiles and didn’t notice as JJ put down her word. When she went to play her next word (‘zap’) and only then did she see what word JJ played.
‘Love.’
It was there. Clear as day. Written vertically and connected to the word ‘snow,’ it was unmistakable. Emily looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what it could possibly mean that her girlfriend very intentionally played such a loaded word. Was it the only word that fit? Did she only mean that she loved the snow? Was she also reading into it?
Emily looked up, making eye contact with JJ. The blonde blushed and looked away, nervously fiddling with the necklace around her neck. Emily smiled faintly at the warmth that flooded through her, but alongside that, was the sharp pang of anxiety. Was she supposed to acknowledge that? Would that make it weird?
‘Zap’ didn’t feel appropriate when her girlfriend may or may not have confessed her love for her.
She played it anyway, deciding that making a big deal of it would just complicate matters. Besides, did she love JJ? She didn’t know. It was all so new. She liked JJ a lot. She definitely like-liked her in the traditional sense of the world. But Emily had never been in love before. She’d loved people before, Matthew for one, and her mother in a way, and she loved Derek like a brother. But being in love was a whole ‘nother ball game.
JJ won the game after playing ‘equinox’ for twenty two points near the end, beating any lead Emily had gained from her silly words. JJ deserved it in the end, as the blonde would sit and stare at her letters until they formed the most complex words that Emily had never even heard of. Emily’s eyes drooped and she was barely able to create three letter words by the end, while JJ was still surprising her with her vocabulary.
Emily shook JJ’s hand to congratulate her for the win. JJ grinned and kissed her.
Then, they looked around and realized two things: it was past one in the morning and Penelope hadn’t come back to the room yet and that all of the blankets that JJ owned were currently being used in the blanket fort.
“Can we sleep in my bed, tonight?” Emily asked. “I’ll help you clean up in the morning.”
JJ nodded but was in the middle of texting Penelope, wondering where on earth her roommate had wandered off to. Within a minute she got back to JJ saying: with derek! will explain tmrw!! 😘 🧚♀️ 😳
JJ showed Emily the message and both girls giggled. Emily saw that coming, but didn’t realize it would be a game of Clue that finally sealed the deal.
Exhausted but happy and relaxed after the game night, Emily and JJ tumbled into Emily’s bed and cuddled up together. Between JJ and Emily, the word ‘love’ was left unsaid that night, but Emily fell asleep that night feeling a new warmth in her chest.
#jemily#criminal minds#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#cm#criminalminds#jj x prentiss#emily prentiss / jennifer jareau#gravelyhumerus cm college au#sweater weather au#emily elizabeth prentiss#jennifer john jareau#my writing#fanfic#criminal minds tv#my post#finally!!!!!!! shes here!!!!!!#its all fluf#also sets up the sequel abit#so see if you can catch on to that#enjoy!!!
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57 sternclay nsfw? i can see stern complaining to a stranger that his ex complained about how weird his kinks were while dumping him
Here you go! 57: “we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle.
For being in a mountain town in the slow season, the seasonal candy shelves of the Kepler Walgreens are bare. Were it 10 am on Valentines Day, Joseph would be in a panic. At 10 p.m, it feels like yet more proof this trip is utterly doomed.
But he didn’t become one of the top agents in the Department of Unexplained Phenomena by being unobservant. On the top shelf, pushed towards the back, is a bag of Reese's hearts and a bag of M&Ms. Thank you, years of training.
Being six feet tall helps too.
He’s so locked onto his target that he doesn’t notice the other person in the store until their hands smack into each other en route to the bags.
“Sorry, uh, lemme just get these and I’ll get out of your way.” A voice as deep and sweet as summer honey reaches his ears.
“I’m sorry, but I was going to buy these.” He starts pulling the bags towards him, only for the other guy to grab them. Joseph glares; the man trying to relieve him of his last solace looks like the kind of lumberjack you see in recordings titled things, “Log Pounders IV” or “Bear Hunting.”
“Look, buddy, I really need these so can you, like, find some other bags?”
“These are the last two. And I guarantee I need them more.” As long as he keeps a pleasant voice and gives no ground, this should go smoothly.
“Unless you got dumped this month, I don’t think you do.”
“I got dumped seven hours ago.” He says through an increasingly tight-lipped smile.
“At least your ex isn’t tagging you in a bunch of photos bragging about his new boyfriend.”
“He can’t, because he probably only just got back to his apartment in the rental car. The one I’m now stranded here without.”
“Pfft, just call an Uber or something.”
“It’ll cost several hundred dollars to get home!”
“You look like you can afford it.” Brown eyes flick from his hair down to his shoes, “some of us have to use half-price candy to soothe our wounds. You’re probably staying at the kind of fancy B&B where they have complimentary booze.”
“I would be, except their was a fuck-up with the reservation. Which my ex took as proof this was time to end things, and is the reason I’m dragging this all over town.” He kicks his ergonomically designed, rolling suitcase hard enough that it bumps into his adversary.
“Better he gave you some bullshit reason than the truth, which mine was all too happy to tell me. You can have these when someone you tried to make happy tells you he thinks you’re ‘too soft’ and that if only you’d manned up he woulda stayed, whatever the fuck that even means.”
Goddamnit, Joseph is not about to lose this argument--and his candy--on top of everything else.
“I’ll trade you that for being told you’re: too exacting, far more uncool than your job implies, too anxious, too invested in your work, that your whole personality is flawed and, just for extra fun, that your kinks are too weird and no one in their right mind would ever want to sleep with you if they knew them ahead of time.”
The other man’s hold on the bags loosens. Then it returns, stronger than before, as he grumbles, “Please, no one’s kinks are that weird.”
“You have no idea what mine are.”
“Then how about you give me a demonstration, huh?” Lumberjack snaps.
Joseph's common sense finally catches up with his thirst for comfort and, apparently, conflict.
“I, I’m sorry, did you just offer to fuck me in the middle of a fight over discount candy?”
“I....” the man lets go of the bags, chuckles, “yeah, I did. Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s been such a shitty day that my mouth decided it was gonna do whatever it took to stay in that fight.”
Joseph laughs a little, slumping against the shelf, “I guess it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in town whose Valentine’s Day didn’t go to plan.”
“No kidding. Though, uh, I didn’t get dumped this month. It was three months ago. He did tag me in all those photos today though.”
“That’s so rude.”
“Not as rude as leaving your boyfriend stranded in the mountains.”
B-grade pop hits fill the awkward silence between them.
“I, uh, this might be way outta line, but I got an idea; if you buy the candy, I can take us back to my place and bake something with it. That way we can both enjoy it, and you won’t be stuck wandering around in the cold.”
He runs a quick is-this-a-serial-killer scan of the man in front of him.
“Sure. But just so you know, I’m opening the Reeses in the car.”
-----------------------------------------------------
“Feeling better?” Barclay, his host, wipes stray cupcake crumbs from his lips.
“Much.” He polishes off his second coffee-cocoa cupcake with M&Ms in the batter, lifts his coffee cup, “this place is lucky to have you.”
Barclay blushes the same way he has every time Joseph compliments his cooking, home, or taste in books. They’ve spent the last ninety minutes in the kitchen of Barclay’s small, A-Frame cabin, one of eight laid out in a half circle behind Amnesty Lodge. The cook explained that the cabins were for staff or long term residents, and that while the Lodge sometimes had vacancies, this week had seen them swamped.
The rain alternates between pleasant pitter-pats and drops that could kill a small bird, so Joseph is incredibly grateful to Barclay for giving him a place to shelter. When he thanks him, the cook shrugs with a little smile, “you shouldn’t leave nice things out in the rain.”
As they’re cleaning up the dishes, Barclay passes him a plate and says, “You can stay here tonight. If, uh, if you want. The couch isn’t much, but it’s dry and I’ve got a bunch of spare blankets.”
“That’d be great, thank you. And, um, thank you for being so nice to me, given how we met.”
“Eh, no one who’s in a Walgreens after ten is in a good mood. And, uh, it’s nice to have someone to talk with. I’m kinda the quiet one of my friends, and work is mostly calling orders and stuff.” He pulls the coffee pot from the heat, “can I top you off?”
“Yes, please.” His caffeine tolerance is so high a few cups late at night doesn’t mess with his sleep. Barclay is sticking with tea, something scented like cardamon and comfort.
They move to the couch that’s clearly been re-covered a dozen times, Barclay only getting up to turn on some music; delta blues, if Joseph’s ear is right. It’s not until the clock strikes one thirty that Joseph notices they’re sitting so close that their knees bump whenever one of them turns to talk.
“Okay, I gotta ask” Barclay’s brown eyes shine sweet and playful, “what exactly was so weird about your kinks that your dickhead ex went out of his way to mention them?”
He thinks a moment, scanning his body and noticing he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks, including all the times he spent with his ex. Something about the faint scent of dish-soap on Barclays hands, the gentle smile that makes Joseph certain that--for all his bulk--if Joseph told him to roll over and show his belly, he’d do it in an instant, the way he doesn’t rolls his eyes or shy away when Joseph talks, all of that makes him calm. Which makes him bold.
“Wait right here.” He hops up, grabs his bag from the door and pulls it over to the rug by the couch. All he has to do to reveal his secret is lift his pajamas.
“Holy fuck.” Barclay leans forward, “you really came prepared.”
“It was supposed to be a romantic getaway. I...we’d never used any of this together, but I hoped we might this time. It’s, it’s not his fault, I know my tastes aren’t for everyone, and we had plenty in common in bed. But he went through this whole thing where he said we should share our deepest fantasies. Apparently wanting to be choked is fine, but wanting to fuck Mothman is not.”
“That’s what this one is.” Barclay picks up one of the two dildos, black with lots of swirling ridges.
“That’s actually my dragon one. Um.” he holds up the ovipositor toy, “this one is supposed to be mothman.”
Barclay squishes one of the silicone eggs, “that feels kinda nice. What else did you bring?”
His genuine interest is not helping Joseph keep his hopes under control.
“The other toy is the ‘bigfoot’ model. And this is, um, this is my newest one, I was so excited I pre-ordered it. It acts like a cock-sleeve, but this part here is supposed to mimic a, um, a knot.”
“Like the idea of getting knotted, babe?” The cook’s voice is a little deeper than when he last spoke, and rather than pulling away he’s inching into Joseph’s space.
“Yes. I, um, I’m getting the sense” he shifts so his hands are on Barclay’s knees, “that we might have something in common besides our taste in leftover candy.”
“I packed all this so carefully” he brushes their lips together, “it’d be a shame to let it sit unused.”
Barclay scoops him into a kiss, growling happily when Joseph instantly parts his lips. His beard is soft and tickly under Joseph’s palms, and his mind takes the thought of getting beard-burn on his thighs and runs so far with it that he almost misses what Barclay says next.
“In that case, you better decide if you want me to open your ass up so I can fuck you with a knot, or if you wanna do it yourself.”
“I prefer to do it myself.”
A second kiss, a bit gentler this time, “bedroom’s at the end of the hall. Get naked and wait for me there?”
“Roger that, big guy.”
When Barclay growls this time it’s rougher, jumping out of his chest and seeming to surprise him.
Joseph undresses as Barclay stops off in the bathroom, rifling through the medicine cabinet while Joseph folds his clothes. He’s down to his boxers when he remembers there is a conversation he needed to have before it hit this point.
“You trying to get me to rip those off with my teeth?” Barclay grins as he sets some condoms and lube on the bed and starts taking off his pants.
“I, um, there’s something you should be aware of. We don’t have the same, um, set-up.”
Barclay furrows his brow, gets his meaning, then nods, “no problem. If you’re okay with that part of you being involved I, uh, I just got a really, really good idea for what to do.”
“It’s not always the case, but tonight I definitely want it involved. I want you inside me as many ways as possible.”
“Fuck yeah.” Barclay tosses his shirt into the laundry, “get your ass open enough to take that knot.”
He slips the condom on, douses it with lube, and presses the first finger in, discovering that he's unable to stop complimenting Barclay for even five seconds while he finishes disrobing. The flush under his dark chest hair is unendingly charming, as is the little whine he makes at Joseph telling him he likes how big he is.
“I, I’m serious, ahhn, it’s rare to find someone taller than me and I really like it.”
“Feeds into the monster thing?” Barclay crawls beside him, laying down so he can kiss him as he works the second finger in.
“In a way.”
A deep, rumbly chuckle that has Joseph fucking himself hurriedly, “Don’t be coy, babe. You like the thought of something big and hairy getting a hold of you and not letting you go until you’re dripping cum.”
“Holy shit, yes” he gets the third finger in, sighing as Barclay nuzzles his neck.
“Well, I’m not bigfoot, but I’m betting I’ll do just fine.”
“More than fine.” Joseph kisses him, feels him smile in a way that melts his heart like cheap chocolate.
“Got some other theories about you, babe, but you gotta wait until you’re on my dick to hear ‘em.” Barclay sits up, stroking his cock in time with Joseph’s hand, “fucking-A, can’t believe your ex didn’t wanna stick around for this. You look like a fucking porn star; we oughta record you getting fucked in your suit and sell if for big bucks.”
He moans, pulling his fingers free, “Fuck me now. Please.”
“Fuck that’s hot.” Barclay works the sleeve down over his cock, sits up against the wall, “come sit in my lap, facing away.”
Joseph straddles him, gasps when the head of his cock presses in. He prepped well, but all the same he has to take his time wiggling his way down. Barclay caresses him, grunting and whimpering whenever he moves, breath prickling the hairs at the base of his neck. It’s heavenly.
When he hits the knot, Barclay rubs more lube on it, but it stays outside of him as he grinds on it. Between moans, the cook manages to say, “want me to start the next part?”
“Yes, please.”
Barclay loads the ovipositor with the three eggs, praises Joseph for being a good boy when he spreads his legs to accommodate the head of the toy.
“I, I thought you had more you were going to tell me?” He tilts his head awkwardly to kiss Barclay’s shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Barclay slowly works the toy in and out, doing his best to sync it to the rolls of his hips, “I think you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t just want one monster; you want ‘em all.”
“Variety is, ohgod, part of a healthy sex life.”
“I don’t mean one monster on one day and a different one on another. I think you want them all at once.”
“Oh yes, oh! Ohohoh” he kicks his legs as the first egg pushes in, “fuck, Barclay, please keep going.”
“Whatever you want, babe.” He nuzzles Joseph’s hair, “that’s how I came up with this plan; seeing all those different dicks made me think you’d, fuck, you’d like me to pretend there was more than just me fucking you.”
Joseph nods, clinging to Barclays arm and bearing down on the knot.
“Can just see it now; you got yourself lost in the woods out here, go looking for help only to find a whole bunch of monsters waiting for you. Spend the rest of the night pressed into the dirt and leaves while every cryptid from, fuck” he bucks his hips, “from here to Canada had their turn.”
“Shit, shit” the knot starts pushing in, “y-you’ve got my number, big guy.”
“Yeah?” Barclay squeezes the base of the toy as he talks, causing the remaining two eggs to push their way in, Joseph’s body clenching around them, “you want a night where all your good for is being fucked, where if you beg for a break you get a bigfoot fucking your throat and werewolves cumming on your chest instead of them all mobbing you at once?”
“Shit, yes, YESohfuck” the knot enters him as Barclay shoves his hips down, “ohmygod that’s good, fuck, I feel so full, you’re so smart, this was genius, fuck you know how to treat meAHannnfuck, shit.” He holds on to Barclays arm’s as the other man fucks him with abandon.
“Oh I know, babe. Know I was fucking right. You wanna be claimed, wanna be owned, wanna be bred by a whole fuckin pack-”
“Jesuschrist” it’s hard to breathe at the pace Barclay sets, his body aching to cum but not quite able to get there. He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing frantically at his dick as Barclay loses himself in the fantasy.
“You’d be so cute, leaves in your hair and cum on your chin, taking it all and begging for more. Good thing you’re so needy, you could tear a pack apart with folks fighting over who gets to fuck you, fuck, Joseph, baby, you’re so fucking good, gonna be so fucking good to you, fuck, fuck” he shoves as deep as he can while he cums, and in the haze of pleasure Joseph swears claws prick the skin of his chest. Just the thought of that sends his own orgasm coursing through him, his body tensing and twisting on Barclay’s cock, making them both moan from sudden overstimulation.
“S-sorry” Barclay pants.
“Nothing to apologize for, just physiology, here, let me ow, ow, okay maybe I should have relaxed more first.” He’s free of both toys, but that was right on the edge of too painful. He waits for Barclay to take off the sleeve, then rolls the bigger man so his head is on his chest.
“Your ex didn’t know how good they had it.”
“Thanks, babe.”
He smiles, “I like that. No one ever calls me something that informal.”
“Call you it whenever you want. Babe.” Barclay kisses his arm, “you can, uh, stay in bed if you want. We don’t have a ton of time together so I’d, uh, well, I’d like to spend as much of it with you as I can.”
For the first time, Joseph wishes his vacation would last longer.
“Agreed, big guy.”
--------------------------------------------------
“You said you had my new assignment, sir?”
“Yes. Agent Stern, you will be going to the town of Kepler to investigate the events described in this file.” Agent Hayes passses him the folder.
“Understood, sir.”
Joseph manages to keep his smile to himself all the way to his desk.
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five stars: part 1 | one look
suna rintarou, the second year middle blocker, seems to have an unapproachable crush on you, the third year cheer captain and the definition of a perfect façade. but it’s thanks to one mistaken encounter that the embarrassed meets the embarrassing.
wc: 2.2k warnings: swearing
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the monthly calendar is the only thing hung on the furthest wall in the locker room. it’s a large rectangle, with random pictures of trees and various images from the nagano prefecture - the last location of the spring high tournament. now, the calendar is half as thick, with a large number seven plastered on the left hand corner.
for the volleyball team, this means one thing: the summer interhigh is around the corner.
suna rintarou, now in his second year of high school, knows this very well.
a slamming sound fills the room with every ball that is spiked and blocked. the second years are staying back to play another two-on-two match. it’s osamu and suna against atsumu and ginjima.
there is a delighted grunt from osamu as the ball falls on the other side of the court through ginjima’s arms. the makeshift scoreboard tells a miniscule point difference of one after three sets, and seeing as none of them seemed to feel any sort of prideful victory, the four almost agreed to call it a day.
almost.
“alright! take it from the top!” a familiar voice rings from the other side of the gymnasium. suna hasn’t heard your voice in a while, even though it’s been weeks since the cheer team had started practicing in the same gym as the volleyball team. he tries not to mind.
“let’s do another.” suddenly, suna fixes his posture, pupils moving frantically between the group of cheerleaders across the court and his teammates.
ginjima snickers. atsumu exchanges a glance. osamu smirks, “okay.”
the court is quiet with suspicious looks. there is a hidden laughter underneath all their faces. “what,” suna deadpans, only to meet three mysterious shrugs.
the next set unfolds the same way the past three did; plenty of practice for every skill set in the game, reminiscent of beach volleyball, and a tiny point gap at the end.
only this time, suna looks like he’s about to cartwheel and fall into the splits all the while shouting “got it!” or “osamu!” ten times his usual vocal frequency. strangely, there are grunts and groans that make ginjima chuckle, contorted backs during spikes that have atsumu cursing, and sweaty hands through even sweatier hair that eventually lead to the end of the practice session.
suna doesn’t realise why his blood suddenly pumps faster than it usually does when he plays. he also doesn’t realise how his eyes waver constantly between the court and the opposite end of the gym. atsumu thinks it’s almost better that he doesn’t - suna had played well, after all.
“’m kind of cravin’ some yakiniku bowls,” osamu chimes in as the four begin to head out.
“ah, we should get some,” atsumu adds.
“yeah, i’m fuckin’ starving.” ginjima calls out, turning to suna as they walk.
suna steals a glance at the cheerleaders, finding you already rested on the bench, talking to your teammates. he’s still seated against the wall of the gym, taking another gulp from his water bottle.
ginjima quirks up his eyebrows and motions towards the door. suna shakes his head.
“oi, suna! ya comin’?” atsumu asks, and is met with a shrug.
suna watches as the three walk out of the gym in moderately noisy chatter. it’s not long before the group of girls bid farewell to each other as well, walking out the gym in smaller groups of close friends.
not you, though.
suna doesn’t yet dare to speak up in the large space that now only occupies the two of you. it’s been months since you last talked to him anyways - and that was back in his first year - so there was no point.
instead, suna puts down his water bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, rubber soles of volleyball shoes squeaking against the wooden gym floor.
he picks up a ball somewhere on the floor, in a corner a little closer to you, and runs back to his side of the court. he stands still, and bounces the ball a few times, watching its yellow-blue-white lining seemingly mix as it spins and bounces, before holding it tight in his hands.
he throws it up in the air, feeling the ball fly. he waits a few milliseconds before he finds himself launching into the air, hand hitting the ball the way he always does it. a jump floater.
the inflatable mass is shot over the court, hard and fast. it goes far, and as suna’s feet meet the ground, he knows it’s gone too far.
“shit.” his head snaps your direction. you’re buried in your notebook.
suna sighs, retrieving another ball from a near corner. he doesn’t usually do serve practice, and he doesn’t really use spike serves in the first place.
some practice is never bad - he knows that - but why does the gym feel so stuffy?
he figures he might as well try a few more jump floaters, watching his wrist so that it keeps still while he jumps.
suna hopes it’ll at least be some good company for you.
“suna.”
the boy almost jumps internally at the stern voice, hands gripping onto the locker’s edge in surprise. he cringes a bit, slightly dreading the interaction. not that he disliked the person, of course, but suna had felt a bit too tired to put up with anyone, really.
the captain, kita, stands in front of his own locker as suna nods a greeting.
“were you practicing your serves alone?”
suna cringes again. i get it, i don’t usually care about serving, is what he wants to say.
“yeah. i know i don’t really do it often.” suna peels off his sweaty shirt, tossing it into his backpack. he needs to wash it later.
there is ruffling and a zip in the background, then kita tells him, “it seemed like you did well.”
suna’s mind wanders to the question of how and why kita is still at school after not seeing him all afternoon, but it’s not like suna really cares who sees him at practice.
“i wouldn’t know, though, y/n-san told me.”
correction: it’s not like suna really cares who sees him. unless it’s you. because now he really cares.
suna tries not to button his shirt up the wrong way. “what did she say?”
“she said it looked like you were working hard.”
“ah.” silence fills the room and suna’s gotten his tie in a rookie mistake. oh god. are you and kita classmates? he wonders. do you have a boyfriend? is kita your boyfriend?
soon, kita closes his locker, backpack and duffle bag slung on his shoulders, full summer uniform back on. he almost walks out without a word.
but kita stops at the entrance of the locker room, “i heard y/n-san had a boyfriend?”
suna has to stop his eyebrows from raising too high, so he attempts to shrug it off. he kind of feels bad for kita, seeing as it seems like he’s getting turned down at any chance of conversation.
then he hears kita chuckle. (kita chuckles?)
“just kidding. you don’t have to panic.”
kita genuinely amazes him sometimes. both ironically and frustratingly.
“anyways, keep it up. nationals is just around the corner. don’t be late tomorrow.” suna hears kita’s voice fade out as he exits. suna saves his disbelieving scoff for later.
when suna finally ties his tie without making a fool of himself, he takes all of his belongings in his backpack and heads home with a bit of a fire in his step.
of course he’s not going to be late tomorrow.
suna rintarou was definitely not late to school. in fact, he was the second one there.
apparently, the first person had passed herself out on the bottom most seat on the bleachers, with notebooks and papers laid out all over the occupied area.
suna takes a closer look, just in case the person was no longer alive. just in case.
it feels like a violation of privacy when he finds that it’s you sprawled over the bleachers, now in your uniform blouse and skirt, lip tint and eyeliner already neatly applied.
yet, your eyes are wide open with your pupils slightly crossed, and suna hates how he has to hope that he doesn’t accidentally laugh.
he’s not sure how to wake you up, since it’s currently six in the morning, and his practice starts at six-thirty, and class starts at eight. it takes a few seconds of standing in silence in front of your passed out body.
two things come into his head: you are pretty. this is pretty weird.
he figures that he might look like he’s looking over a dead body, from the position he and you are in.
it does seem like you’re breathing, so suna opts for a slight poke of the finger to your shoulder. his long arm and fingers extend in your direction, his body staying back in order to avoid any false misunderstandings when you eventually wake up.
poke. snore.
poke. snore.
poke.
“mmkay, taayk eet fruhm da tap.” your hand moves to extend your pointer finger, the same way suna’s hand looks like now as he pokes you.
suna sighs through a clenched jaw. he clears his throat softly, “senpai?”
you let out a groan. he tries again, louder this time, “y/n-senpai?”
suna’s taken aback when your hand catches his wrist, pulling it as you sit back up, eyes blinking rapidly.
“i saw that you had fallen asleep, so.” suna regrets his actions when he sees you yawn. maybe he should’ve let you sleep. you shift in your seat, fixing your ruffled skirt. it looks uncomfortable, and you’re thoroughly embarrassed. (you think you feel a tiny trail of drool down your mouth. you wipe it away. yuck.)
“wait, suna rintarou, right?” you blink, “i, uh, i tutored you last year, physics...?”
suna nods, “yeah.”
you let go of his wrist, mumbling, “volleyball players are so tall.”
suna catches that statement of yours. he doesn’t ask, though, even if it makes him grin inside.
“oh god. how long was i asleep for?” you reach for your phone on the other side of the bench, gasping at the time, “it’s ten past six...”
you look up to the boy, then your papers, then the boy, “uh, suna-san, i’m so sorry for this, but could you help me gather everything? i was revising our cheering programs for the basketball and volleyball games, so there’s just a lot of past papers and everything.”
suna hums in response, quietly complying and collecting your papers. there are numbers on each of them, and suna makes sure to put them in order as you continue to sort out your papers on your side of the seat, muttering short curses that suna hadn’t believed would come out of your mouth so easily if he had seen you a year ago.
“do you have practice for cheer too in the mornings?” suna flinches at the short silence between his question and your answer, but you look at him with what he thinks is the sweetest, most tired smile he’s ever seen.
“no, not really. our schedules are basically the same as the basketball and volleyball teams, but without the morning practices,” you continue, “recently, school’s been starting up this new badminton team and having them outside instead, so we just have to compromise.” your tone turns slightly sour, unfiltered by your lack of sleep.
“doesn’t the cheer team have a supervisor?” suna questions, genuinely concerned at how you seem to be the only one making plans for the cheer team.
you shake your head, “it’s just me and yuki-chan. we have two captains, in case we ever have overlapping games, but it’s really it. we just make appointments with the principal from time to time, to make sure she doesn’t forget about us.”
“ah. that... sucks.”
you shrug, catching his gaze on you. he looks away. “tell me about it.”
suna hands you the rest of the papers and you murmur a quick thank you before you’re hugging the folder of papers to your chest, backpack still somewhere on the floor. you’re about to exit the gym when you feel a lightness on your shoulders that is far too nice for your responsibilities, and that’s when you make a u-turn, “shit, my backpack.”
“i got it.” suna has his backpack on his shoulders and one strap of your bag in the crease of his elbow. in his arms, your bag looks light. your head tilts in amusement.
“thanks. i’ll-”
“i can carry it for you, if you want.”
you near him, eyes laced with burden. you tell him not to worry, trying to lecture him about his morning practice and how people might already start coming to practice, but suna tells you that it’s only quarter past six in the morning and that he can walk you to class because it’s nicer to sleep on desks instead of the bleachers.
so you smile, because how could you not?
"would kita be mad if you’re late?”
suna grimaces at your mention of kita - without honorifics. are you two that close? suna wishes you could call him without any honorifics, too, maybe even his first name-
“suna-san?”
his eyes pierce into yours and he cocks his head forwards, brisk walking out of the gym. there’s a ghost of a smile on his face, and it reminds you of the last time you had really talked with him, less than a week after he had gotten a well-deserved 89 on the final physics exam - it was almost a 50 point improvement.
suna shakes his head, chuckling, “we won’t be late.”
his voice is only a little bit deeper now than it was then. his summer uniform fits him well.
you realise that he is handsome before he is your underclassman.
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#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#suna x reader#haikyuu scenarios#suna scenarios#suna rintarou#haikyuu suna#suna fluff#haikyuu fluff#suna imagines#haikyuu imagines#suna x you#haikyuu x you#hq fluff
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Seal Milk
So, I’m finally finished! I’m so sorry if this doesn’t live up to the hype, but I really hope you guys enjoy it. I did really try my best. I wanted to get this done since I’m (hopefully) going back to work tomorrow night and I know if I do I won’t have too much motivation for anything. I apologize if this disappoints anyone after it’s been hyped up for so long.
This is crossposted on ao3!
“Has anyone seen Jimin? This is like the fifth time he’s gone missing today!” Taehyung pouted, his striped ears laying flat on his head. “Tae, he does this like.. Every day. Be patient, he’ll be back from whatever he’s doing soon.” Namjoon mumbled, legs crossed while he was doing his school work. The tiger hybrid pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah but he could at least tell us when he’s leaving! He’s so secretive and I’m his best friend! I should know what he’s doing!” The polar bear hybrid sighed, closing his books for a moment. “Come here. You can snuggle with me until he gets back so you don’t wake Yoongi hyung up. You know how he gets when that happens. Taehyung pouted more, standing in place for a moment before he slowly made his way into Namjoon’s lap, snuggling against him as he waited for Jimin to get back. It’s not like he was going to complain. Since Namjoon was a polar bear, he was pretty chubby. His thighs, belly and chest were always nice and soft, so he made a good pillow for whenever Jimin was absent.
Meanwhile, Jimin was hiding in one of the showers down the hall, whining quietly to himself as he gently tugged at his engorged nipples. He had to milk himself a few times a day unfortunately and the university’s showers were the best place to do it. He had a small, private stall to himself without his friends checking in on him and asking him if he was okay. You see, Jimin was a hooded seal hybrid, which was pretty rare, especially in males. While he has a small, soft tummy and thick thighs and ass, he did his best to keep himself in shape. The only thing he couldn’t control were his tits. They had started out small once he hit puberty and had grown bigger each year after that. He had started to lactate his first day of highschool and since then he’s been hiding away to milk himself, reliving the pain of his tits being way too full. Once he was finished, he sighed, cleaning himself up and tugging his shirt back down before he made his way back to their shared dorm.
The moment he walked into the room, Taehyung was up and already jumping onto the smaller male, rubbing his cheeks against him. “Jiminnie I missed you!” Jimin sighed softly, leaving a small peck on the tiger hybrid’s cheek. “I was gone for no more than ten minutes Tae.”
“Yeah but.. You know I don’t like being away from you! And you leave a lot! What do you have going on where you have to leave like seven times a day?!” Jimin paused, peeking down at his friend who had now smushed his face against his chest. His face was covered but he could tell the younger was still pouting. “Well.. it’s really nothing. I.. I just go out for a little fresh air is all?” He lied, sucking in a breath. “Never mind that though. How about we go cuddle quietly so Namjoon hyung can finish his work and you don’t wake Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung’s head immediately popped up, his wide and boxy smile back. “Please!”
That’s all it took for Jimin to pry Taehyung off of him, grab his hand and lead him into his room, shooting Namjoon an apologetic look as they walked past him. The older just smiled as the door to Jimin’s room shut, both him and Taehyung flopping onto the bed. It didn’t take the younger man very long before he was pressed right up against the older’s small frame, arms and legs wrapped around him with his face once again smushed against Jimin’s chest. Jimin always found this endearing. Sure, he kinda hated his chest sometimes but whenever Taehyung used it as a pillow, it made him super soft. Reaching up, he pet through his best friend’s hair, cooing softly. “You’re so cute. I hope you know that.” This made the tiger hybrid whine and peek up at the seal. “I know I am! You just make a good pillow.” Jimin chuckled at this, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Taehyung’s nose. “Take a nap with me then. We can study after dinner.”
The two fell asleep pretty easily. They usually always did. Taehyung would sleep with his face buried between Jimin’s tits, arms and legs wrapped around the shorter male while Jimin would sleep with his arms around the tiger. It was always comfortable and usually they’d wake up well rested. Well, this time Jimin didn’t. He woke up in unbearable pain and Taehyung was still wrapped around him. Fuck. Jimin nudged his friend awake, squirming slightly. “Tae… Tae, roll over.. I gotta pee really bad.” He lied. It worked though, because Taehyung rolled over and grabbed a pillow to hug onto. Thank god. The seal hybrid got up as fast as he could, literally running toward the front door, calling on his way out. “Gotta pee! Be back!” before slamming the door shut.
By time he got into the bathroom, he was in excruciating pain. He quickly stripped his shirt off and immediately started to tug on his nipples. The relief was almost instant. The emptier his tits got, the better he felt. He watched as the milk ran down the drain, making him sigh. Damn his genes. He was wasting perfectly good milk by doing this. He should be selling it honestly. Hooded seal milk was rare and Jimin could be cashing in on that, but he didn’t want his friends to know that he even had to milk himself. Would it be a waste if he drank it though? He had always wondered how it would taste, considering people went nuts for the stuff. A little bit wouldn’t..hurt right?
Jimin lifted up one of his breasts, bringing his nipple to his mouth. He was blushing and honestly had no idea why he was even doing this. As soon as he started to suckle though, he moaned. The milk tasted so good, it was almost addicting. No wonder people paid so much for this stuff. He was only supposed to try a drop, but before he knew it, Jimin had completely emptied both of his tits and embarrassingly, he had gotten hard while doing so. Great. Now he was going to have to take care of that.
Twenty minutes had passed before Jimin had gotten back to the dorm and the moment he walked in, Hoseok was waving him over to the dinner table. “I thought you just had to pee?” As Jimin sat, he shifted slightly in his seat. “I did! But lunch must have messed my tummy up.” He pouted as the squirrel hybrid came over to hug his head against his stomach. “Poor Jimin-ah. I hope you feel better. We ordered takeout and it just arrived.
--------------------------------------
Finals season came and with that came stress. For everyone in the dorm, except for Yoongi. The cat hybrid didn’t really care too much about finals or studying. He was usually sleeping. The last few weeks, Jimin had been milking himself with his mouth and then touching himself more than once a day. With that and the stress eating he had been doing, he had gotten a little… chubbier. See, nobody told him that his milk had a high percentage of fat and he was gulping it down multiple times a day. So now, none of his clothes fit right. His shirt stretched over his jiggly midsection, so stretched that you could see his belly button indent. He had trouble getting his pants over his softer thighs and jiggly ass and he was starting to get a small double chin. Not to mention his tits getting even heavier with his weight gain. Jimin didn’t mind it too much. He’d just work it off after finals. No big deal, right?
What the seal hybrid didn’t know, was that his friends had noticed his gain too and that they gathered together one day while Jimin was in the bathroom yet again, to talk about it. “Have you guys seen Jiminnie lately? He’s all soft and jiggly.” Taehyung whined. “And he hasn’t been letting me nap with him and I wanna touch his tummy.” Yoongi yawned. “Maybe he’s insecure about it? It’s most likely just finals stress weight. He’ll work it off.” The rest of the boys agreed but Hoseok spoke out afterward. “Still, maybe we should check on him? Make sure he’s actually okay? You know how Jiminnie is, he likes to deal with things on his own.” Again, they all agreed. So, all of the boys had gathered around the kitchen table to wait for the seal hybrid to come back in, chattering amongst themselves.
The door opened ten minutes later, Jimin walking in and tugging his now almost too tight shirt down over his stomach. When he looked up and saw the others staring at him, he raised a brow. “What?” Seokjin cleared his throat. “We just wanted to ask if you were okay? You know, you go to the bathroom a lot and.. Well, Jiminnie, to put it bluntly, you’ve gotten a little chubby.” Jimin frowned a little, reaching to grab onto his soft belly. “I mean.. Yeah but, I can get rid of it. I haven’t been eating that much.. A-and I’m okay! I’m just stressed!” Seokjin was about to reply when Taehyung got up and squinted at Jimin. “Minnie, what’s that on your chin?” The seal hybrid blinked in confusion, reaching to wipe his mouth and chin with his hand. He paled when he looked at it. Fuck. Fuck, he didn’t wipe all of the milk off of him. He stared at the other six boys, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words. He was going to have to come clean sooner or later, so he took a deep breath and cupped his chest.
“These.. Have been filling up with milk multiple times a day since I hit puberty. The reason I kept going to the bathroom was to milk myself. If I didn’t, I’d end up in excruciating pain.. I.. this is embarrassing but a few months ago, I had the bright idea to.. Try a little bit of it? I ended up getting addicted so.. I milk myself with my mouth and.. I take longer in the bathroom because.. It.. turns me on so.. Yeah.” Jimin exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut.
There was a short, almost awkward silence before the other six started speaking all at once. “Aww, Jiminnie that’s so cute! Why didn’t you tell us before?!” Hoseok chattered as Taehyung chimed in. “Yeah! You could have relieved yourself in your room! We’d have left you alone!” The cooing over him had the seal hybrid red as a beet, but Yoongi’s voice had the room quiet again. “You guys do know that hooded seal milk is super high in fat? So all of that milking, multiple times a day.. Mixed in with the snacking is why you’ve gotten bigger, Jimin.” It had Jimin blushing and his eyes opening. “How come you never told me?! I mean.. I.. I don’t mind the weight but still!” the cat hybrid just shrugged. “Figured you knew about yourself already. It does make you look pretty cute though.” “Hey Jiminnie?” Namjoon piped up. “Next time you need to do it.. Do you think you could.. Do it in front of us? I think that would help with you being so embarrassed about it.” The seal hybrid paused, thinking for a minute or two before sighing quietly. “Yeah, Yeah I can.. Give me a few hours. When I need to I’ll call all of you out. For now, I need to get back to studying.” The others nodded as Jimin almost ran into his room. He just wanted to bury himself in his work.
It was morning when Jimin finally came out of his room. He tried to do so quietly, but a few small whines ended up slipping past his lips. He really pushed himself the night before. Usually he would need to milk himself twice before morning, but after last night, he ignored the pain and tried to sleep, which was a terrible idea because now he was in excruciating pain and his tits were pretty swollen. The other boys were already sitting up at the table eating breakfast when Hoseok noticed the seal hybrid. The squirrel’s usual bright smile greeted him. “Jiminnie! You didn’t come out last night? Are you okay?” When Jimin didn’t answer and just stood there with the hem of his shirt bunched up in his hands, the older’s smile dropped. “Minnie? Are.. are you in pain?” He got up, escorting Jimin to the couch to sit while the others worriedly followed. “Sweetheart.. Tell me, did you milk yourself last night at all?” The younger shook his head, squirming a little. “N..No.. got embarrassed and.. And now it h..hurts..”
Hoseok’s frown deepened as he looked around at the others, giving them a “what should we do?” type of look. Seokjin stepped in then and moved to gently pet through Jimin’s soft hair. “Can we take your shirt off for you, dear? That way it’s easier for you to milk yourself?” Jimin pouted and shook his head. “Don’t.. Don’t want you guys to make fun of me..” The peacock hybrid pouted, kneeling to cup Jimin’s chubby cheeks in his hands. “Jiminnie, we would never make fun of you. You know this. We never make fun of Namjoon when he eats a lot for winter hibernation, do we?” Slowly, Jimin shook his head, peeking from Seokjin up to the polar bear hybrid who gently smiled at the seal. “No…” “Right and we never make fun of Kookie when he goes into his heats, do we?” Again, Jimin shook his head no. “Alright.. Then just do what you need to do okay? We’re here to comfort you and help you.”
With a small exhale, Jimin sat up and lifted his arms, wincing slightly as Seokjin lifted the younger’s shirt off. It took him a moment and a little more coaxing from the other boys before he lifted one of his tits, placing his mouth around his nipple and started to suckle. The others went quiet then, just watching as Jimin slowly started to get more into it, letting out soft moans and mewls. Quietly, Jungkook nudged Taehyung’s shoulder, pointing to the seal hybrid’s crotch where his pants had started to tent. This could fuck up everything, but the bunny hybrid was feeling a bit brave. “Does that feel good, Jiminnie hyung? I bet it does. You know.. You shouldn’t wait so long if you’re gonna be in pain. We’ll have to help you next time if you do this again.” It just made Jimin whine, squirming in his chair as he moved to the other nipple when he was finished with the first.
Jungkook slowly slid his hand up and over Jimin’s leg, trailing his fingers along his thigh before he started to slowly palm the older. “Jungkook st-” Yoongi was cut off by Namjoon gently shouldering him when Jimin mewled around his engorged nipple. “He likes it. Maybe we should help.” With that, the others moved in closer. As Jungkook continued to palm Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon went to work on kissing at the younger’s head, neck and face, occasionally nipping and sucking at his skin. Taehyung moved to carefully set Jimin in his lap, letting him grind down against him as Yoongi kissed and nipped along Jimin’s belly and Hoseok went for his thighs. All of the stimulation had Jimin whimpering and moaning as he milked himself and just as he was about to finish, his body jerked and writhed in Taehyung’s lap as he found release. He laid again his best friend, panting hard for a few moments before he opened his eyes. He didn’t want to see how the others were looking at him just yet and he knew his own face was beet red.
After a few more moments, he carefully peeked around, biting his lip. The other boys were smiling at him, almost cooing even. “Jimin-ah, you’re so cute. You know, we’ll help you like this every time you need to milk yourself right? Didn’t that feel so much better than doing it alone?” Jungkook purred up at him, making Jimin’s cheeks go red again. “P..Please.. It does feel so much better..I-” Jimin’s sentence was interrupted by a few hiccups. “Aww, does our baby have the hiccups? You must have drank way too fast. Come, we’ll get you cleaned up and give you little belly rubs to help.” Namjoon hummed.
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Months went by and Jimin basically had everyone at his command. Whenever he wanted snacks, he’d call on someone. Whenever he needed to be milked, he’d call on all of them. Over the months, the boys spoiled their little seal more often. They would bring him takeout, slide him treats and even feed him when he was studying and they were finished with their own work. All of the constant snacking and takeout made the seal hybrid balloon. He was a little over four-hundred and fifty pounds now and a lot of it settled on his bottom half. He had a rather large belly and his tits were at least a double F cup. Not that he wore bras. But his ass, his ass took up a good chunk of the couch when he sat and at the table he needed two chairs to sit in. The boys would fight over who’s lap Jimin got to sit on often as each of them loved getting crushed under all of the seal’s flab. Jimin couldn’t go a second without one of his now boyfriends with their face stuffed either between his tits or his soft stomach either. It made him beyond happy.
With Jimin’s gain came a little bit of gas. He was eating a lot of junk so every now and then, the boys would hear a loud belch or an equally as loud fart come from wherever Jimin was in the house. Not that they minded of course. They found it rather hot whenever it would happen. There were.. A few problems that came with Jimin getting so big though. The fatter he got, the more the chairs creaked when he sat down on them. It was even worse when he stuffed himself during meals. Jimin would lay back, chair creaking dangerously as he rubbed his stuffed, taut gut. He never paid any mind to it, until the one day he absolutely had to.
During a massive dinner stuffing, Jimin did his usual routine. Sat back, rubbed and patted his gut and tilted his head back to let out an ear rumbling burp. He must have eaten too much though because both of the chairs he was sitting on snapped and the seal hybrid fell with a hard thud onto the floor. His ass wobbled harshly with the fall, but it thankfully was padded enough to not have hurt him. The others rushed to their boyfriend, checking to see if he was alright. Though they were very aroused, Jimin’s safety came first. They were confused though, when he started to cackle. “Looks like I can’t sit at the table anymore huh? Come and.. And help me up. I can’t lift myself.” From then on, Jimin ate on the couch.
Another instance of the seal’s weight gain was the day he got up for a class. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours!” He called out to the three that were home at the time. Jungkook, Yoongi and Taehyung. “Bye, Jiminnie! See you when you get back!” Taehyung called back as the other two waved. As Jimin went to walk through the front door, something stopped him. His hips and ass. They were wedged in the door frame, making him whine quietly. “Um.. guys? Come here a second?” The three got up to see what Jimin may have needed but stopped as soon as they saw. Jimin was trying to pull himself free from the door frame and it was just making his ass wobble up a storm. “Jiminnie. Hold on, you’re just making it worse!” Yoongi called out, making the younger stop struggling. “Hold on.. I’ll get some butter and I’ll have Taehyung and Jungkook push when I’m done.”
After running to the fridge and grabbing the butter, Yoongi took some out with his fingers and slathered it on Jimin’s hips and ass where he was stuck. He managed to squeeze his fingers between the crack of the door frame and the younger’s flab, so he hoped that would help too. “Alright, you two. Get ready.” The two younger boys nodded, each resting their hands on one of Jimin’s massive ass cheeks. “Jimin, when I say push, you try to pull yourself out of there. Ready? One, two, three!” Both Taehyung and Jungkook grunted as they started to push, their hands sinking into the fat of Jimin’s ass slightly as the seal hybrid started to try and push himself forward. It took a few minutes and a bit of wriggling, but eventually Jimin was free. He was panting softly, leaning against the frame. “I wonder if the school will widen this for me.. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to start coming in sideways.”
The other three looked at each other and then to Jimin. “Fuck your class today. We have other plans for you. Get back in here.” With a knowing smirk, Jimin turned himself sideways, carefully moving himself back into the dorm room. His ass and belly still brushed against the frame, but he didn’t get stuck. His day was going to consist of nothing but fucking, napping and sleeping. Especially when the other three found out what had happened. This was going to be fun.
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