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misserabella · 4 months ago

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two geniuses (one sacrifice)

spencer reid x reader (enemies to lovers!)

masterlist this is chapter 4! go check out the rest!<3

synopsis;; things have gone sour in between spencer and you after that kiss. but you need to make a decision and accept that everyone… is a sinner. and sinners make pretty sacrifices.

cw;; tobias hankel episodes (E15,16 S2)!!!, ANGST!!!!!, usual reid vs reader behavior, kidnapping (reader), used of y/n (i know i’m sorry but i cannot use nicknames yet), shots being fired, ‘this is calm and it’s doctor’, death of characters, usual criminal minds stuff, weapons, branding (ouch), religion themes, fighting, beating, blood, drowning, pretty much torture, crying, drug use (reader gets drugged), spencer losing it, comfort at the end, mental health disorders (did), a lot more but i can’t remember!!!…

«and i looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was death. and hell followed with him…»

after your kiss with spencer, things had taken the wrong turn. you couldn’t stop thinking about it. about how soft his lips had been, the wine on his tongue, his rough hands cradling your body, taking your cheeks as he devoured your mouth like a man starved. couldn’t stop thinking about his heavy breathing, about his needy eyes, his words when you’d told him to slow down… ‘i can’t’. every time you remember the need in his voice, the feeling of his hard cock against your thigh it sent shivers down your spine. but now… now he was acting like a dick.

“you had him in front of you and you still missed?!” he frowned, infuriated, his jaw tightened, teeth grinding.

“he wasn’t in front of me, he was in front of you! if you hadn’t been on the way i could’ve gotten him!!”

the arguments had gotten worse. the hatred had gone up a notch. he was insufferable.

“so you thought the best thing to do was step in front of me and take a bullet?!” you groaned.

“you’re welcome!” you rolled your eyes at him. the paramedics were taking off your perforated fbi vest to look at the damage. by the way it hurt to breathe you were sure one of your ribs had cracked.

“‘you’re welcome’? ‘you’re welcome’?!” he scoffed in disbelief. “do you know that actually the vests aren’t bullet proof? what if the bullet had gone through it? what if it perforated one of your lungs?!”

“well next time don’t make me step in front of a bullet, reid!” you groaned. your head was starting to hurt.

“oh this is my fault now…?!”

“yes! yes it is your fucking fault! you were distracted!” he sighs and you groaned in pain when they took out your vest. under your shirt there was a nasty bruise growing darker by the minute.

“distracted? i wasn’t distracted.” he defended himself, ‘cause if he was distracted then right now he was out of his mind as you unbuttoned your shirt, your simple white bra displayed for his hazel eyes. he gritted his teeth, looking away at the flashing of your memories together in the hotel, the beach… that kiss.

“but you were! you didn’t even notice he was pointing at you until it was too late! in your position he would’ve got you, reid. you were down on your knees and he was pointing at your head!” he looked exasperated once his eyes found yours again.

“so stepping in front of me and getting shot was best?!”

“yes! if it means you get to live then yes!”

“looks like we’ve got a fractured rib.” the paramedic said. “but nothing too serious. you’ll be alright.”

“she’ll be alright? she needs a full body scan, what if it has punctured her lungs? she could be bleeding internally!” he babbled, and the paramedic tried to slow him down.

“there’s no sing of it. her breathing sounds fine, her heart beat is stable, calm down, agent.”

“this is calm. and it’s doctor.” he sternly said back and you sighed.

“reid. y/l/n. enough.” hotch stopped the two of you. he took a glance at spencer and his stern look told him everything he needed to know. spencer stepped away, fuming, his fists clenched. you sighed. “are you alright?” your boss inquired you.

“i’m fine. it’s just discomfort.” he nodded.

“alright. but if you feel faint or just off, tell me.” you nodded and he stepped away to finish talking with the sheriff, leaving you with emily and jj —who had been watching your interaction with the other genius from afar— as the paramedics put on some numbing ointment and wrapped your torso.

“what was that?” emily’s eyebrows were raised, her arms crossed over her chest.

“what was what?” you inquired.

“that. all of this. what’s going on between you and spencer later?” jj clarified, waving his hands around in the air, as if she could physically feel the tension and heaviness in the air even after he was gone.

“he’s just being a dick. nothing new.” you shrugged. “thank you.” you said to the paramedic who welcomed you with a smile and wished you a quick recovery as you buttoned back up your shirt.

“yeah but lately you two have been fighting non-stop.”

“we always have.”you frowned.

“not like this. it’s been worse since you two…” jj trailed off and your eyebrows raised.

“since our last case. since you two kissed.” emily finished up for her and all color left your face.

“what? nonsense.” you spat, but your micro expressions were enough to betray you. goddamn profilers.

“y/n…” emily tried and reason with you, but before she could jj’s phone was pinging.

“we have a new case.”

saved by the bell.

tension is tricking down your skin under spencer’s gaze as the team surrounds the table. jj has the remote in hand, ready to give out the information about this last butchery.

“georgia. the kyles, dennis and lacy, were murdered an hour ago in their suburban atlanta home.”

“an hour ago?” hotch frowned.

“the police were on scene unusually fast.” the blonde clarified the doubts that arose inside the room.

“why?” morgan inquired.

“one of the unsubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.

“you’re kidding.” derek scoffed and jj shook her head.

“from inside the house.” eyebrows rose. “according to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there because the other, who they both identified as raphael was about to kill the ‘sinners’ that live there.”

“sinners?” hotch replied just to make sure and jj nodded.

“the 911 center is going to send garcia a copy of the tape.”

“how fast was the police response time?” spencer inquired and your response eyes smoothed over his curls, his pointy small nose, high cheekbones and perfect jaw as jj answered.

“four minutes, 26 seconds. during which time raphael managed to do this.” images of the crime scene filled the screen and emily whistled with impression. “mr. kyle is a dot-com millionaire. his company is one of the largest employers in the community. there’s gonna be media coverage. also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

“revelation, chapter 6, verse 8.” you muttered. “they’re killing ‘sinners’. this is a mission.”

“and mission-based killers will not stop killing.” spencer nodded, taking in your words.

“this is a bad one, isn’t it?” emily asked and morgan sighed.

“unsubs with a cause are never good.”

“even less if they’re religious.” you muttered. “violence is perpetrated for a wide variety of ideological reasons, and religion is generally only one of many contributing social and political factors that may foment it.”

penelope perked up with a ping of her computer. “pets? i just got the 911 call from the georgia state police.” she informed as she played it for the whole team.

the voice through the other side was soft, silent, wobbly as he explained that the people at that house had too much stuff, possessions, from raphael’s perspective, who was cutting in with a shape ‘that’s enough’ that rendered the submissive male silent.

“well, unsub one definitely sounds frightened, maybe he’s doing this against his will.” emily pointed out but gideon shook his head.

“i doubt it. he whispered.”

“he could have called out to save them instead of calling 911.” hotch agreed.

“not if he had a gun to his head.” morgan chirped but you rectified him.

“if he had a gun to his head, why would he have dialed 911?”

“the second unsub said raphael was going to kill someone. is there a third?” jj inquired and spencer answered.

“referring to oneself in the third person is not uncommon for an unsub.” you nodded, stepping into his rambling.

“an example of it is ted bundy. he gave detailed accounts of his murders but he never admitted to doing it. he would just say ‘the killer’.” he looked at you with something hidden behind his eyes. fury, proudness? who knew?

“i’ll run the name through our system.” garcia said.

“we have a killing team on a mission in rural georgia. we know what that means.” hotch talked through the silence that came with garcia’s keyboard clacking.

“they’re not going to stop until the mission’s complete.” morgan said as he inspected the photos of the crime scene.

“but is there an ending to the mission? there will always be more ‘sinners’ to be taken care of.” you sighed and spencer chuckled.

“of course not. these unsubs are guided by a misunderstood point of view of a religion with shaky foundations. their reasoning is beyond cure. they’ll kill anyone who doesn’t fit the epitome of pure.” your eyes clashed against his at the condescending of his tone. you wanted to punch his jaw shut.

“then we need to hit the ground running. we need an inside picture of the victims. victimology can be critically important in a mission- based spree.” you talked to the group and spencer clapped his hands.

“you came up with that alone? brilliant deduction.” your eyebrows furrows as his eyes rolled in annoyance.

“what’s your fucking problem?” you gritted through your teeth, tension building in your body and in the air surrounding the two of you as you took a deep inhale of air that had your cracked rib throbbing.

“enough.” hotch cut short your quarrel for the second time around that day. “once we get there, prentiss, go where the bodies are. examine the wounds. they managed to kill two victims in four and a half minutes. we need to know how.” emily answers with a ‘you got it’. “i’m going to the atlanta field office and go over case files. it’d be unusual for a first kill to be this efficient.”

“reid, y/l/n and morgan come with me to the crime scene.” gideon ordered and you could almost feel the migraine that sharing space with the genius would bring you.

“wheels up in 20. we’ll land in less than an hour. so, everybody, try to get some rest.” hotch notified and all of you nodded, getting up from your seats and getting ready for this case.

“i’m tired of people using religion to justify the terrible things they do…” you sighed as you took a look at the blood stained carpet of the crime scene.

“you’re saying these killers are on a mission?” one of the officers of georgia asked.

“these unsubs believe they’re either on a mission from god or that the bible is somehow guiding them.” reid stepped up.

“sounded to me like only one of them was into the mission.”

“it’s usually more complicated than even that. in the case of dick hickcock and perry smith, perry was the subservient personality, basically against even entering the clutter home, yet he was the one who almost single-handedly slaughtered the entire family.” he explained in a messy blurb of words.

“huh.” was all that the agent said in response.

“how many times was mr. kyle stabbed?” gideon asked.

“stabbed isn’t exactly the word. they were slashed through the major arteries. they were made pretty much at the same time.”

“like an animal at slaughter…” you muttered.

“exactly like an animal at slaughter. you cut the throat first then sometimes open other major arteries to assist on draining the carcass.” reid added and you looked at him.

“so maybe a hunter?”

“or a farmer.”

gideon and morgan looked at the two of you. and in their eyes there was something you already knew. you could not like spencer, but the truth was that you two made the perfect team. and there was nothing that could change that fact.

“this unsub was good. they didn’t stand a chance.” gideon said and morgan stepped up to the other side of the room.

“okay, i know my partner called 911. the police are on the way, so i don’t have a lot of time. now, assuming unsub one didn’t actively participate, i gotta believe i entered the bedroom from here.” he pointed at the bedroom door to his left. “i see mr. kyle on the other side of the bed. so i approach him.”

“and you cut him first.” you nodded.

“how do you know that?” the agent asked you and you hummed.

“a blitz attacker neutralizes the greatest threat first. in this case, it would be the man.”

“plus, the 911 call, a woman screamed.” gideon added.

“you can’t scream with your throat cut.” spencer pointed out and you rolled your eyes.

“genius.” you whispered, winning a pissed off look from him and his hazel eyes.

“shut it.” he whispered back.

“make me.” your tongue betrays you with your witty come back before you can think it through and his face changes to a one of shock for a second before he relaxes once again into his hatred. but you’ve seen it. that look in his eyes. and you’re sure his mind has drifted back to your kiss. when you had shut him up for good. you almost smirk. ‘cause that little flash has made him gone quiet.

“so mrs. kyle sees her husband murdered, she runs back into the bathroom.” morgan continues with his reading of the room, completely oblivious of your bickering and tension as he enters the bedroom, taking the door with his gloved hands. “she tried to close the door behind her. i force my way in… and i kill mrs. kyle back here in the bathroom.”

“we checked that smudge for prints.” the agent points to the blood on the door beside morgan. “nothing. looks like he wore some gloves. not with any pattern. like latex maybe.” you shook your head.

“that doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“it doesn’t?”

“unsubs suffering from a psychopathy, a delusion like a message from god, are what we would classify as being disorganized. they don’t generally clean up after themselves.” reid explains for you. always meddling into your business, of course.

“maybe unsub one, the frightened one, made sure they did.” you argue with him and his eyes are piecing as he looks at you, but the ringing of morgan’s phone snatched both your attentions away.

“yeah, talk to me, baby girl. yeah.” he looked around the room after garcia inquired him something. “if a settee is a little couch. what? what’s wrong? a viral what?” you frown in curiosity and from derek’s own frowning. “garcia, is there some point to all of this?” he steps forward towards us. “garcia. there’s a video of this murder on the internet?” the three of you are perplexed under his gaze, and then he’s looking from side to side as he ends the call before stepping towards a computer in front of him.

“they’re watching us.”

«the armies of satan shall not prevail.»

tobias hankel. it was the first time you heard his name. a witness to an unknown prowler that hotch had asked spencer and you to ask a few questions to help recognized the aforementioned.

tobias. hebrew. meaning ‘god is good’. under his facade. his sweet, nervous eyes you might think lives a good man that resembles the meaning of his name.

and yet, the devil was looming over his shoulder.

“hi. mr. hankel?” i inquired after my knocks and the screeching of his opening door.

“uhmm. yeah?” he looked innocent. pure even. how could you haven known? they say you can sense it. smell the rotten. but this rotten second mind taking over hankel was so well hidden that you couldn’t even sniff it.

“mr. hankel. fbi. i’m agent y/l/n. this is doctor reid.” you two showed him your badges and the man frowned.

“fbi?”

“may we come in?” spencer inquired, and tobias looked over his shoulder into the safety of his home.

“i’m sorry. i don’t let anyone in the house.”

“actually, i really have to, you know, go.” spencer awkwardly said and you gritted your teeth. seriously?

“you do?”

“yeah. for like thirty minutes.”

“why didn’t you say something in the car?”

he completely ignored you and looked at tobias once again.

“do you mind?”

“i’m sorry. my father doesn’t like it.”

“father? you’re like, 30.”you almost elbowed him on the stomach.

“at what age should one start disrespecting the wishes of their parents?” he inquired seriously to the genius behind you and you stepped into the middle of the conversation to fade away the discomfort brewing in between them.

“you witnessed something a few months ago that might be very helpful for us.” you kindly said.

“i did?”

you nodded. “you saw someone go over a wall into a yard. you called the police?” he frowned.

“me?” you copied his gesture.

“you didn’t?”

“sorry.” he shrugged and spencer hummed in thought.

“is there another tobias hankel here?” you inquired.

he shook his head. “just me and my father, charles.”

“there’s a report on file that lists you as calling 911. you were walking a dog…” he cut you off.

“no, that’s wrong. i don’t have a dog.”

“oh.” you muttered. “all right. well, sorry to brother you, sir.”

“sorry. have a good night.” tobias said before closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

“that’s weird…” you said as you started to walk down the front steps of the porch. “why bother calling the police in the first place if later you’re just going to pretend you didn’t?” spencer seemed to connect something inside his mind then, because he looked at you with widened eyes.

“to gauge the response time.”

“what?”

“if you were going to kill somebody but you wanted to call the police first, what would you need to know?” he inquired you and your eyes widened the same way his had.

“how long it takes them to get there.” you nodded and he quickly ran around the house. “reid!” he looked into one of the windows and found what he was looking for, screens, almost 15 of them over one another showing live feed of people lives. when tobias spotted him, he started to run. spencer called after you. “get back here! he’s the unsub, he’s in the barn, come on!” you took out your weapon and trailed behind him towards the barn. “he’s in here.”

“are you sure?”

“have you ever seen me pull out this thing is i wasn’t?!” he pointed at his gun and you rolled your eyes. always the same. “call hotch.”

“we’re in the middle of nowhere, reid, we have no cell service.” you stated the obvious with a. ‘seriously’ look on your face and he groaned.

“great. of course we have no service.”

“okay. let’s do this. i cover the front you go around back. hotch knows we’re here. he’ll come looking for us, we’ll just wait him out.” you stood up and he shook his head.

“no, no, no, y/l/n.” but you had already gotten into the barn leaving him behind.

“tobias hankel! fbi!” you called out, pointing your gun to your surroundings as your eyes tried to get used to the dim —almost inexistent— lightning. you toon out your flashlight as you stepped further in, taking in the interior of the barn, the chains handing from the ceiling… until something splashed below your feet, and when you looked down… blood.

next you hear? the snarling of three bloodied dogs. yellow eyes under the light of your flashlight as they bared their teeth at you, their fur so black you were sure they were more than dogs. hell hounds. ready to devours you as they already had devoured your last victim.

you gun fired at them just in time to dodge their fangs and avoid the tearing of your skin in a shriek.

your heart is pounding out of your chest as you run out of the barn to scape the third dog, that haunts you down to the back of the barn and plunges at you with hunger in his eyes, you fight, even though the fall against the dirt has left you breathless and your torso hurts due to your fractured rib. the barrel in his mouth as he nips at the metal before you push it aside and end with his fury with a shot to the head. nothing has ever made your heart break more than the whimper of pain that leaves the hound’s mouth as he falls.

you’re panting as you scramble backwards away from the body. that’s until you hear spencer’s scrambled voice.

“wait. wait. wait.”

along with tobias’ and the other unsub’s voice.

you quickly press your feet back onto the ground as you followed the sound.

“i could have stopped him by myself!” tobias shouts.

“okay. okay.”

“i tried to warn everyone.”

“just relax, mister hankel. all right?”

“shoot him!”

and then there was a mess of voices.

“no! i don’t want to!”

“i said. shoot him you weakling, he’s a satan!”

“he didn’t do anything!”

“i won’t tell you another time, boy. shoot him!”

“tobias hankel!” you pointed at him with your gun, your eyebrows furrowing when you only find the two of them, alone, no other unsubs.

spencer’s gaze falls on you. he’s on the ground, hands up.

“another devil! told you to get rid of the first, boy!” the voice of raphael that you’d only heard on the 911 recorded phone calls leaves tobias’ mouth and your frown deepens before you understand what was going on.

“raphael?” you inquired and the man looked at you with an stern despised look.

“how dares a devil call my name?” he grumbled and your whole body froze when the finger he had on the trigger twitched. he was pointing straight at spencer’s head.

your mind quickly tried to find something. anything. anything that could take the man’s attention away from the brunette. he was shaking his head at you but you’d already made up your mind. you knew what to do.

“i need to confess my sins” you looked at the genius, his brown puppy eyes on the unsub, who kept pointing at him. one mere twitch of a finger and he’d be gone.

“talk child” raphael ordered, and you swallowed.

spencer called out your name. “don’t.”

“silence!!” the man yelled, the barbell pointing at his head, to what you quickly yet calmly spoke.

“i’ve been lustful raphael. i’ve let the devil inside of me.” you quickly spoke. “and it felt so good.” the tone on your voice seemed to haunt him, his teeth gritting against the other. you knew what this man, these men, despised, and you were gonna take advantage of it. “i’ve been greedy. so greedy, raphael. i only took this job for the money, for the power. and i’ve killed innocents, i’ve killed believers like you. i fear the devil who has possessed my body has turned me into one.”

“you need saving. dirty devil whores like you need to be expunged!!” he spat. “i can save you child. i can make the forgiving loving god take you in between his arms once again.” you rose up your hands, in a quick motion of your hand throwing your weapon aside, leaving you at his grace.

“i would like that. and i know i don’t deserve it. but as a last undying wish, please, let this man be. take me and save me instead. he’s as pure as they can be.” you looked at spencer, whose eyes only read fear. maybe for his life. maybe for yours. you feared yours didn’t have saving anymore. “let my sinful life lead to the saving of the pure ones.” he looked at you, pondering. you only wished he would fall into your words, that spencer’s blood wouldn’t fall onto the hay.

“thank the lord i’m as forgiving as him, boy.” the unsub said with one last step and look in his direction, before hitting spencer in the head with the gun, making his vision turn blurry as he fell onto the floor. “now come child, let’s make you pure again.” he ordered, and with a flicker or your eyes towards the profiler, who in between merely conscious babbles called out for you with ‘don’t’s’, watched you go by the hand of who could possibly be your ending.

you didn’t even strain against the ropes that tightly kept you sat on the wooden chair, your eyes taking in the looking like basement in which who you had recognized as charles had dragged you to. he was messing with metal around a fireplace, and even though you wanted to think that it was all a mistake, that in reality it couldn’t be possible, you deeply knew what would happen next.

he took the bar out of the fire, the iron red in heat. “you know what this is?” he inquired, showing you the cross branded at the end

of it, a cross that will surely burn your skin and brand you for the rest of your life. “it’s god’s will.” you gasped when one of his harsh hands took a hold of the front of your shirt, tugging at it and making the buttons pop, exposing your chest to his dark eyes.

“you don’t have to do this.” you tried, although you knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“i’m just an instrument of god. and you my dear, are a devil i need to eradicate.” your fear coated eyes watched as he slowly approached the cross to your exposed skin, the warmth of the iron making your skin prickle. and even though you fought against the restrains that bounded you to your fatal fate, you could not scape his will.

a scream ripped from your throat at the searing pain of the branding, the smell of your own skin melting away making you feel sick in your lightheaded state.

“stop. please stop.” you cried out, tears falling from your eyes as he pulled away the iron from your skin, throwing it aside.

“i though you wanted this. you came to me, to us! i can see it in your eyes, you want to be saved!” he maniacally talked.

“no…” you shook your head, your vision turning white for a moment at the harsh smack he left on your cheek, making you turn away.

“that’s just the devil inside you talking, dear. don’t worry. i’ll take care of it.”

“i’m not a devil!” you begged. “i’m not a devil, i’m a woman.” but he wouldn’t believe you.

“the devil lies.” he muttered as he undid the ropes tying you to the chair, although you were still immobilized as he dragged you by your hair.

“i’m not lying! i’m not, please!”

“the devil lies.” you watched as he dragged you to a tub filled with water. “and for that i shall baptize you in the father’s holy water.”

“no, no, you don’t have to do this…” you pleaded.

“oh, but i do…” you took a forceful deep breath before cold ice water was hitting your face and head, drenching you down to your chest and new searing brand. you fought against his hold. but he was too strong. you choked on the water, trying to grasp a bit of air with every pull and tug out of the water as he practically tried to drown you, although you were becoming dizzy, on your mind the thought of dying here consuming you. you could catch fragments of his praying as he drowned you, an “amen” falling from his lips as you lost consciousness and let your body plummet into the ground.

maybe this was the end.

and strangely enough, the last thing that went through your mind before you fell onto the darkness was spencer.

you woke up with a gasp, back at the chair, the door of the little cabin closing behind the unsub, who carried in between his bloody arms a skinned animal.

he looked at you, and you knew this wasn’t raphael, or charles, what made you slightly sigh.

“you need to eat.” he said, putting the animal aside.

“what’s your name?” you inquired, softly, your throat sore by the cold water you had accidentally swallowed. you needed to make sure this was the man who had greeted you at his door and not the shadow taking over his mind when he wasn’t looking, or another unknown alter.

“tobias.” he answered and you nodded.

“who was here before?”

“it was probably my father.” he said, and then took on your disheveled aspect. your drenched state and the red skin-melted cross on your chest. “i’m sorry he hurt you.” he sincerely said, although you quickly panicked when you saw him walk towards you while taking off his leather belt.

“what are you doing?” oh god, please no, you through as he made quick work of pulling up the sleeve of your shirt and harshly buckling it around your arm. “no. no. please don’t.” you begged.

“it helps.” he promised as he took out a needle and a crystal little bottle. “don’t tell my father. he doesn’t know they’re here.”

you watched in between sobs as he injected the needle on the bottle, getting a shot of whatever drug it was to guide it to your arm.

“please. i don’t want it. i don’t want it. please.”

“trust me. i know.”

“please, don’t.” you whimpered, hissing in pain as the needle breached your skin, your body jolting as the drug filled your veins.

“it helps.” he muttered. “what are you doing boy?” raphael’s voice cut through. the man in front of you was splitting again. “i was just trying to help.” “help a devil?” a smack was given to his own cheek. “you’re weak! they don’t deserve help. they deserve saving. justice!!! and i’m gonna give it to her.”

“you ready, girl?” the man, now charles, tugged on your hair.

“ready for what?” you grunted.

“my weakling son thinks god gave you to him for a reason. let’s see if we’re both right.” he said letting you go to turn around your chair, pulling a camera in front of you.

“spencer! we already told you you can’t be here. you should be with the paramedics!” jj said, trying to stop spencer from coming into the house. where the team was trying to find out your location.

“any luck?” he inquired, ignoring the blonde, to what hotch shook his head.

“seems like the kid self-medicated with heroin. we contacted rehab and they told us they have no idea where he could be, but we found out that hankel has a serious drug problem.” prentiss said.

“that could explain the psychotic fracture.” hotch said.

“what are you talking about?” jj inquired.

“tobias is living as at least three different people.”

“himself, his father and raphael…” spencer muttered. “so we have nothing? we’ve seen what this man is capable of and we have nothing?”

“spencer…” gideon tried to stop him.

“no. you… you don’t understand. she saved me. and god knows what she could be going through…”

“we have something.” the police officer entered the house. “this could be bad news. a computer store was robbed in the middle of the night. a suburb outside of atlanta. thief got away with four laptops, external hard drives and a satellite.”

“if its tobias, it puts him right back in business.” hotch said.

and just as he muttered those words morgan was calling out for the whole team.

“guys! guys, get in here!” he yelled, guiding them to the computer’s room.

prentiss gasped at the sight of you on the screens. “she’s been beaten.”

spencer could feel all air leaving his lungs at the sight of you. drenched clothes, bleeding chest, bruised cheek and hazy eyes.

“can’t you track him?” jj inquired in a rush.

“hankel’s only streaming this to his home computer.” garcia said.

“this is for us. he knows we’re here.” gideon said.

“i’m going to put this guy’s head on a stick.” morgan cursed.

“he branded her.” spence couldn’t help but choke on his words. “oh god. this is my fault. if only i had…” his hands were on his hair, his hazel puppy eyes frantic.

“spencer, look at me. look at me!” morgan stopped him, taking his shoulders. “we’ll find her, alright? we’re gonna find her.”

“why can’t you locate him?” hotch asked garcia, to what she started typing.

“he’s rerouting to a different IP address every 30 seconds. i can’t track him.”

“there’s must be something you can do. anything!” spencer begged, while on the other side of the screen, the killer was giving you a choice.

“you really see inside men’s minds?” hankel asked, you didn’t know if you were talking to raphael or his father, charles, walking in front of the monitors. “see this vermin?” you looked at the people on the screens he had pointed at, who unknowingly lived their lives. “choose one to die. i’ll let you choose one to live.”

you shook your head. “no…”

“i thought you wanted to be some kind of savior.” he frowned walking towards you.

“i already saved someone who deserved saving.” the man grunted, tugging at your hair.

“choose.”

“you’re a sadist in a psychotic break. you won’t stop killing. your word is not true.”

he looked at the camera that recorded you.

“the other heathens are watching.” you looked at the camera. so your team was watching you… “choose a sinner to die, and i’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved.”

“i won’t choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.” he tugged harder onto your hair, smacking you and making the whole team gasp.

“you really see into my mind, girl? can you see i’m not a liar? choose one to die, save a life. otherwise, they’re all dead.” he pushed you against the chair and you closed your eyes tightly. your cheek was on fire. and surely bruised by how badly it hurt.

“alright.” you swallowed. “i’ll choose who lives.”

“all the same.”

you looked at the screens. pondering. did you have a choice? could you save them all?

“far… far sight screen…” the killer looked at that screen.

“marilyn david. 4913 walnut creek road.”

“you got that?” morgan inquired to garcia and gideon was quick to call the saved woman to warn her about the recording computer.

the screen that was recording her turned black, and when the man turned you recognized that look in his eyes. “raphael?”

“you’ve done your part. now it’s my turn.”

spencer caught on your hand moving by your side, your fingers signing words.

“guys look. she’s trying to say something.”

“what is she saying?”

but before you could finish the camera was turning off, and they lost you on the darkness.

along the lines, he knew what you were tying to say.

‘it’s not your fault.’

the next time you woke up a murder had taken place. and you couldn’t help but think it was your fault. you couldn’t save them. they were slaughtered because of you… and he had left you there with the screen on for you to see as he slaughtered them.

“tobias?” you inquired as the man next to you fumbled with your shirt and the leather belt on your arm.

“yeah. sorry i had to leave for awhile.” he muttered.

“you can leave again and you can take me with you.” you offered, watching him prepare another shot of heroin. your mind was still scattered due to the last one.

“my father would be angry.”

“not if he can’t find us.”

“he always finds me.” he sighed. it was as if he had been sentenced to a slow painful death. a fate he couldn’t scape.

“if you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us.” you promised.

“we can’t be saved…” he said as he looked at the needle, slightly flicking it with his finger.

“we can. we can, i promise. if you tell me where we are, i’ll save us both.”

“listen to me.” he cut you off. “it’s not worth fighting. tell me it doesn’t make it better.” he said pointing at the needle. you sobbed as he punctured your skin once again, making your consciousness start to slip.

“we can be saved. we can be saved…” you promised yourself as you felt the drug taking effect.

in the unsub’s screens suddenly pops up a red window saying that the video of the last murder he had uploaded was a virus “no!!!” you knew it had to be garcia to try and trace his IP. “they’re trying to silence my message.” gritted raphael.

“i can’t control what they do, i’m not with them. i’m with you.” you slurred.

“really?” he scoffed, clicking on the keyboard to pull out of his video an image of gideon. his voice filled your senses. he was calling out your name.

“if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this. you understand me? he’s perverting god to justify murder. you’re stronger than him. he cannot break you.”

“you think you can defy me?” he inquired to you after turning of the screens.

“i don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“you’re a liar!” he suddenly took your arm, pulling up your sleeve to show the marks of the multiple needles that had breached your skin and his face changed. it was charles. “you’re pitiful. just like my son.” you sobbed as he turned on the camera back up. “this ends now. confess your sins.” he ordered with a new smack to your face. your team was watching through the other side of the screen.

“we need to find her.” reid said. “we need to find her now!!”

“i haven’t done anything.” you cried, to what he gave you a harsh punch, splitting your lip. “tobias help me!” you begged to the man incarcerated in his own body.

“he can’t help you. he’s weak. confess!”

“tobias…” you whimpered as he slapped you across the face.

“confess your sins…” he ordered as he tugged on your hair, making you look at him.

“no…” you shook your head, all breath leaving your lungs as he pushed you down onto the floor. you started gasping for air, your body convulsing due to the drug intake and the poor oxygen that was getting into your lungs.

“oh my god he’s killing her!”penelope sobbed, the whole team in shock, spencer’s soul withering. it was his fault. your blood was on his hands. and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

he saw your eyes close. your chest stop rising. and he swore his own heart had stopped just at the same time yours had.

“she’s dead. she’s dead.” she muttered, her hands on her hair.

“and that’s the devil vacating your body…” the man said to you as he watched your life leave your body.

spencer could almost feel it himself. your body losing warmth, your limbs becoming stiff.

hankel disappeared from the screen a couple of minutes as morgan took his shoulders.

“i killed her morgan. i let him take her away and now she’s dead. it’s my fault that she’s dead…”

“spencer.”

“i killer her…” his eyes seemed empty. “she sacrificed herself for me. i could have saved her, i could have…”

“guys!!” garcia called for them at the sight of what it seemed to be tobias giving you cpr. spencer clenched his fists on the chair’s back, begging, praying for you to breath again.

oh god, please, please don’t let it be the end…

relief was short for the feeling that succumbed his body when he saw you cough.

in your dizziness you caught a glimpse of what it seemed to be the stone of a grave.

“whoa…” garcia sighed, and spence almost fell on his butt if morgan weren’t holding him.

“wait when was the video of the last murder posted?” prentiss asked, suddenly and urgently remembering something.

“9:23” garcia responded.

“and what was the time of death?”

“the 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murder must have been moments later.” hotch answered.

“that’s only a 19-minute difference.” jj said.

“how long would it take to post the MPEG?” morgan inquired.

“two, three minutes.” garcia said.

“well, let’s call it two. you figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area. that means hankel has to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene.” morgan realized.

“garcia, can we see it on a map?” hotch asked.

“yeah.” she nodded, circling the area described.

“call farraday. i want that area locked down like it’s martial law.” gideon ordered.

“you came back to life…” raphael talked to you as you took your breath.

“raphael…”

“there can only be one of two reasons.” he wondered.

“i was given cpr.” you weakly tried to joke, more for yourself than anything, but he ignored you.

“there are no accidents. how many members are on your team?” he inquired.

“without me… seven.” you said.

“the seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. the first sounded and there followed hail and fire mixed with blood, and they were thrown to earth.” he recited.

“he thinks it’s revelation. the seven archangels versus the seven angels of death.” hotch muttered.

“tell me who you serve.” raphael ordered.

“i serve you.” you responded, no thoughts in your head. you were playing chess with the devil himself and you had the make him belief he was winning… for now.

“then choose one to die.”

“what?”

“your team members. there must be a real devil in between you disguised as an angel. choose to die.”

“kill me.” you weakly offered, but he shook his head.

“you came back to life. you mustn’t be the devil.”

“i lied.”

“your team has seven other members. tell me who dies.”

“no.” you shook your head, and watched him as he took out of his pocket a gun, turning the cylinder of the gun to later on point at your head.

“choose and prove you’ll do god’s will.”

“no.” the trigger clicks. and you’re still here. the gun cocks again.

second round.

“choose.”

“i won’t do it.” the trigger clicks once again, just as the gun cocks.

“life is a choice.”

“no.”

once again.

“choose.” you hesitate, thinking, until your lips

part and you speak.

“i choose spencer reid.” the team freezes. “he’s a classic narcissist. he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. i despise him.” you said. “genesis 23:4. ‘let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness and futility, for this shall be his recompense.’ “

spencer after hearing you quickly left the room, just as raphael cocked the gun and fired the bullet that would have blown your brains out on the wall. you shiver.

“he’s the devil you want.”

you watch him take another bullet and put it in the cylinder. “for god’s will.”

the team follows spencer onto the kitchen’s table. he’s got a bible in between his hands. “i’m not a narcissist.” gideon sighs.

“come on. look, you can’t take anything from that. she’s not on her right mind, reid.”

“that’s not what i’m saying. stop. okay, everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?” they all fell silent. “okay.” his lips tugged in this thin line be always managed to do. “maybe i’m a little bit narcissistic. but i’ve never put myself above the team. cause i don’t. ever. y/n and i argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and she knew that i would remember that. and she also quoted generis 23:4. read it.” he babbled before giving the bible to jj.

“ ‘i am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you that i may bury my dead out of sight.’”

“she wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose. i know that.” reid said. “she’s a genius.”

“she’s in a cemetery.” morgan said and they quickly went back in their steps.

“i don’t see a cemetery.” prentiss said looking at the screen once the whole team was back with penelope.

“call up the first time we saw her.” gideon asked the blonde, who put on the video of you, in which you said ; ‘i won’t choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.’

“check to see if there are any reposts of poaching in the last couple of days.” hotch said.

“okay…” penelope typed. “a farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”

“where are we talking?” morgan asked. the screen focused on an even littler portion of map in walton.

“what’s that patch of green there?” jj inquired, and garcia focused on marshall parish.

“marshall parish. i think it’s an old plantation.” hotch wondered.

“wait. tobias wrote in his journals about ‘staying clean’ and ‘keeping away from marshall’” emily pointed out.

“guys. there’s a cemetery on the grounds.” penelope said.

you slurped up as much water as you could, your eyes meeting his face.

“tobias? is that you?” you inquired.

“yeah.” he nodded, giving you more to drink, which you gladly took.

“thank you.” you breathlessly said. “you saved my life.”

“i’m sorry.”

“why?”

“he’ll win in the end.” he muttered, putting aside the glass of water.

“tobias, i need to know something. it’s important. are we in a cemetery?”

he nodded. “i used to come here to get high.”

“i was right.” you smiled to yourself as he got you ready for another shot of heroin.

“no one bothers you here. i never told anyone about it.” he said as he buried the needle on your skin and pressed. he let you be as the drug took its effect on your body, his personality shifting once again.

“i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…” you sobbed, your mind dizzy. every time you closed your eyes, there he was. with his brown caramel curls, hazel eyes and pretty smile. you only wish he had given you one before you’d die…

“why are you sorry, girl?” raphael inquired you and you cried.

“i didn’t notice. i couldn’t have. he was right in front of me, and i… i… i pushed him away. i couldn’t help it.”

“is that a confession?”

you nodded, sniffling. “i confess.”

“being sorry won’t save you now, girl.”he walked towards you and took away your bounds. “grab a shovel.”

you followed his orders, and let him lead the way towards a part of the cemetery, where he pushed you to your knees and ordered you to start digging.

“i ought to bury you alive in there. give you time to think about what you’ve done.”

“i know what i’ve done…”

“don’t talk back to me!” he kicked you harsh in your side, and if your rib wasn’t broken before, you were sure that it was now. “dig.” you sobbed in between gasps of air, complying. “dig faster!”

“i’m not strong enough.” you muttered in a frail voice.

“you’re all weak.” he scoffed, taking off his jacket. your eyes caught lights behind him. it was your team. “get out of there.” he looked at where you were looking, and once he had turned, you grabbed the jacket he had tossed onto the ground and took ahold of his gun, pointing it at him. he pointed at you with his knife. “only one bullet in that gun, girl. you better not miss.” he growled as he stepped closer and you fired it. you thanked god as the bullet hit his chest. you crawled towards him once his body had hit the ground, tossing away his knife as he looked at you. “you killed him…” it was no longer his father.

“tobias?”

“there she is!”hotch exclaimed.

“do you think i’ll get to see my mom again?” he inquired you.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered, watching the light leave his eyes.

you heard spencer calling your name, feeling his warm arms caging you against his chest and pulling you away from tobias. “you’re alright. you’re alright…” he muttered, his hand on your messy locks, holding you close. you’d never felt safe in your life. until now.

“i knew you’d understand…” you smiled, your body weak and falling limp against his. “you’re a genius, spencer…” you somehow managed to babble as your eyes started to close.

“hey, come on, stay with me. stay with me y/n, please…”you could muster out his soft voice calling out for you, shaking you. “call the medics! someone please call the medics!!!!”

a/n; this took so long to write…😫 but i’m so happy with it! finally some angst!!<33

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jjmaybankswifeyx · 8 months ago

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don’t play with me princess

zach justice x fem!reader

warnings • smutty smut smut, zach : daddy, kissing, use of yn, pet names, oral sex, flirting, angst, jealous zach, swearing , 18+

summary: you went on dropouts after being friends for years and him begging you for ages to come the podcast , you finally give in and things kick off.

*Do not copy my work*

*zach has his own place in this*

you were messaging zach all last night about the podcast, what time to come etc he was being so sweet telling you he’s gunna be with you the whole time but knowing zach he will probably bully you for it tomorrow on the podcast “i’ll be fine” you mumbled before dozing off to sleep.

you wake up at 11:06 to zach phoning you making sure your awake as you always sleep in, unfortunately you had just woke up and had an hour to get ready and leave as you had to be there for 12:30 and it takes 20 minutes to get there “yea you just woke me up” you say rolling out of bed “good can’t have my star guest not come” he says, you hang up the phone starting to get ready doing a natural look as you didn’t have time nor effort to do a glam look, once you finished your makeup you chose your outfit then left.

you got there about 5 minutes before the pod started saying hi to everyone “omg yn” alyssa shouts across the room running towards you engulfing you in a big hug “alyssa ahh i missed you so much” you say with a massive smile “alright alyssa she’s mine calm down” zach says appearing around the corner with a smug little smirk on his face “oh shut up zach” turning around to face alyssa again and walking into the studio.

“hello welcome or welcome back to dropouts today we have an extra special guest, my girlfriend yn y/l/n” looking at u in shock “oh you wish” looking at the mic “i do i really do, so yn” your quick to answer as your nervous as what hes gunna say “yes zach” already dreading the question “how have you been” relieved with this you start to smile “yea it’s been great honestly i’ve started my own clothing line and makeup and it’s going great!” smiling knowing how far you’ve come “wow that’s great! any boys recently ?” jared says adding to the convo “oh jared you know” you say winking at him before you both start bursting into laughter, you look over at zach and he looks like he’s burning a hole into your brain, he looks mad ? you chime in “no guys i’m jk don’t clip that” you say with a nervous laugh zach still does not look impressed until he spits out “oh yn you wouldn’t even kiss jared on the cheek never mind do the devils tango with him” smirking you reply “oh and how would you know that” he stares at you for a second “okay guys if your not subscribed to the patreon you get a 7 day free trial, you get extra bits from these podcasts also you get them earlier plus extra videos like the drunk episodes when we get me and some other people drunk and try spill some secrets” you just look at him unimpressed as he carries on.

by now your on the subject of sex and relationships jared talking about this girl he is going out with tonight and how he would love to have something with her as theyd been speaking for months “yea jared i think you just gotta go for it, no woman wants a man who takes their time, and they don’t want to beg for it either ” you say giving him a woman’s perspective “oh yn you were begging for it last night” zach says smirking earning an oh and oh shit from jared and alyssa you just completely gobsmacked on what this man just said to you “oh please like i would go to you for that your probably not even as good as you make out zach, actually alyssa can you relate to this a man always says he knows what he’s doing yet he can’t get it in the right hole” jared and alyssa start laughing hesring a very quiet yes from alyssa as zach says “oh trust me i know what i’m doing” you didn’t look impressed “hm ye still don’t believe it sorry zach” he’d had enough at this point he wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you upstairs and prove it while you were screaming out his name “don’t play with me princess”, jared just gasped and alyssa just started laughing you however just turned over and said “of course i’m gunna mess with you other wise your gunna wind me up so” looking over at him letting your eyes drop for a mere second you saw him readjusting himself seeing a massive bulge in his pants looking up with him smirking at you.

alyssa and jared start having a conversation about something i’m not sure what i was zoned out thinking about what zach said and his bulge until you were pulled out by zach coming closer to you wanting to whisper something “i’m gunna fuck you so hard after this your not gunna be able to even speak and say i didn’t know what u was doing, you understand me gorgeous?” you nod while backing away just smiling jared and alyssa obviously caught on “um guys what you saying over there” knowing you were caught until zach chimes in “oh i was just asking yn about something i heard about her clothing line and it’s true but not able to say sorry. it’s a secret” you sigh knowing zach just saved your ass and his.

after 1 hour of you and zachs glances you started you flirt with jared to get a reaction out of zach, must say he contained himself pretty well until the pod finished you said your goodbyes to jared and alyssa claiming you were gunna hang out with zach for a while as you haven’t seen eachother in months they believed it obviously as it is true you did miss him but you needed him now, as soon as they walked out that door you said “so you gunna prove it to me or what?” walking over to him looking up batting your eye lashes without a word he smashes his lips into yours quietly letting out little moans and gasps as he picks you up taking you to his room he throws you on the bed hovering over you “hm you look so good today” moaning while he’s kissing your neck “you too baby, wanted to have my way with you since i first met you” you moan against his touch not knowing this as you thought you guys were just friends with the occasional flirt “take your clothes off princess wanna see you” he says throwing his shirt some where across the room, after hearing those words you have never done something quicker you were lying there naked while zack still had his jeans on he slowly started kissing down your stomach reaching down to your bare dripping pussy “this wet already baby? hm someone’s needy” saying with a grin before you could answer he dived into your pussy sucking your clit making you scream out in pleasure “hm zach more baby please” he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you sucking and licking your clit, you could hear his tiny little moans and the vibrations coming off, “could jared eat your pretty pussy like this baby?” he says hint of jealousy in his voice you shake your head unable to focus “words princess” he says picking up his pace “no! daddy you do it better than anybody” you say about to come until he stops what he’s doing and looks up at you “what did you just call me?” you now are very embarrassed yet the words come out you couldn’t stop it “d-daddy” he smiles looking at you “fuck princess i cannot do this i need to be in you” you sigh then spreading your legs for him as he unbuckles his belt letting the cold air hit your core “fuck gorgeous such a good girl for daddy” he says slipping into you, he’s massive so much bigger than you thought “fuck daddy your huge” that just gives him a boost and he starts picking up the pace, “oh baby you don’t how long i’ve wanted to do this” he says moaning in your ear “me too daddy needed your cock for so long hmm” screaming without a care who heard you “your mine princess” you moan at the words nesrly making you cum alone “all yours daddy” you say trying to fight for breathe “what princess didn’t quite hear you?” ramming into harder and deeper “i’m yours daddy all yours!!” shouting even louder before he utters “good girl” as his thrusts get sloppy “where do you want me beautiful” without even thinking you say “in me daddy i’m on the pill” he does a couple more thrusts before you both are cumming the hardest you ever have, nobody has ever made you feel this way and you loved it, he pulls out of you now all cocky “that prove it to you huh” saying all confident “wasn’t even that good” you say smirking “hm i wish i could believe that but your moans and words say different gorgeous” he says before getting something to clean you both up.

as you were laying there he says “i meant it you know” you look up at him confused “your mine now, not letting you go” you just kiss him as you fall asleep tangled up together.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you enjoyed leave me things to write in my inbox 🤍🦭🌟

#zach justice #zach justice smut #zach justice x reader #zach justice and tara yummy #zach justice podcast #dropouts podcast #jared bailey #alyssa ali bert i #smut #youtube #podcast #jealous #drew starkey smut #colby brock smut #jake webber smut #jj maybank x reader

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talaok · 1 year ago

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Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?"

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time"

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel"

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

"Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

"inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

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gothwineaunts · 18 days ago

Note

I don't want to make you feel guilty about it but do you have any updates about Shiloh?

Don't worry, I've been wanting to tell y'all what's up with Shiloh for awhile now! I just want to start with the disclaimer that I don't really have what I'd call "news" on it. It's in limbo at the moment, but for good reason. When you sign on with Webtoon you agree to give them digital exclusivity for a period of time. This is so you can't go and post your series somewhere else, because ofc webtoon wants readers to only be able to read it on their app. This is all fine, like it's all above-board, normal stuff. But as a result there's a span of time where you cannot post the series anywhere else, even if the series is finished. I don't wanna get too specific, but a few years. You've probably heard about Let's Play, right? How Mongie left the platform? The reason she can't immediately start posting Let's Play somewhere else, is because of this same thing. She, like all the other webtoons that leave or are canceled, needs to wait until the term is up before she can continue elsewhere. The clock on this resets whenever you post a new episode. So it's not like episode 1 is okay to post somewhere else before episode 10 is, it's the whole series or nothing. So with all that said. Shiloh's almost to the end of this term, and past a certain point we felt it no longer made sense to try to post S3 as a webtoon original because the moment we post even one episode, we'd have to wait all these years over again if/when we left. There's also been some writing on the wall for a minute that webtoon isn't keen on renewing Shiloh after S3, so there was also a possibility we'd come back, just to be canceled. And honestly that's alright with us, we have thought for some time now that Shiloh is better suited to a longer monthly issue release rather than shorter weekly ones, just with the genre it is. And besides, we wouldn't be able to keep up with webtoon's mandated weekly schedule while we're working on Nevermore at the same time. So TLDR; when Shiloh comes back it won't be as a webtoon original. But I'm not sure what it'll look like yet. Could be on canvas. Could be on patreon as like a free/fastpass sort of route, potentially. We know we want people to be able to read it for free no matter what. But the details are all sort of a toss up at the moment, because we still have a little more time to wait before we can do anything anyway. I'm sorry if that's not a very satisfying answer! It's why I've been dragging my feet on a proper announcement, because I don't have any hard dates or plans for y'all yet. But we have not abandoned Shiloh! It's been in deep freeze, but intentionally. And with plans to return at some point. We won't be abandoning it, it's a huge passion project for us. <3

#red post #shiloh #shiloh webtoon

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michelle-is-writing · 5 months ago

Text

Interview, Matthew Gray Gubler

He's so goofy, I love him

Word Count: 2.1k~

(C/n) : Character name for the show

I think even after all the years of doing acting, I will never be able to feel completely comfortable in an interview. Over time, it's gotten easier, but the lingering feeling of nervousness still creeps up into me. I always worry I'll say something that can be taken out of context, or I'll blurt out something I wasn't supposed to reveal just yet. However, if I'm with friends or co-workers during an interview, the anxiety isn't so prevalent.

Thankfully, right now, I'm in one of the rooms on set with four of my closest friends as a reporter from a nearby magazine publishing company interviews us. Kirsten, A.J., and Shamar sit along the largest sofa while Matthew and I share the loveseat in the room. It's fitting, actually.

Over time, Matthew and I have formed a relationship with each other outside of filming Criminal Minds. It wasn't planned, of course. We met on set knowing our characters would soon be forming a romantic relationship, and so, we started a friendship to better portray the chemistry on set. However, that chemistry went farther than I could've expected in such a short time, and now we sit as two lovers who can't reveal themselves to the world just yet.

In the show, my character, (C/n), and Spencer still haven't gotten together. They're perfect for each other, my character having been written specifically for Spencer's character, but they have issues like any other two people trying to get together. It's lead to a lot of ups and downs with many fans going online to tell us to just kiss already. Luckily for them, the next episode that's next to come finally breaks through that relationship barrier and our characters get together. Because of this, the producer has told us that it was alright Matthew and I could be together off-screen - however, we must keep our relationship secret and hidden away from the public to avoid any spoilers about the episode being released.

Due to the pressure of trying not to do any of the things I would usually do with Matthew, I'm a bit scared of this interview. I know the interviewer is going to ask us questions about our ever growing on-show relationship - that's a definite. With the increasing romantic tension between our two characters, I don't even think she has to ask any questions to get the answer she wants. It's happening, and it's obvious.

Once the interviewer enters the room, she introduces herself as Lacey and greets us all with a welcoming smile. Sitting down in the only arm chair in the room, she starts off by talking about the recent season to the camera while other cameras pan around to catch video of us all. With all of us being watched and recorded, Matthew waits until the cameras are pointing away from us before sliding his hand discreetly over to mine and linking our pinkies together. The simple action, makes me a bit calmer as a smile soon makes its way to my lips.

"So, JJ And Will," The interviewer starts, facing A.J. with the same smile as before, her arm draped against the arm rest while her leg is crossed over the other. "Are they thinking about having any more kids after this recent one? Maybe another boy, or a girl for change?"

At the question, A.J. smiles with a small laugh. "I think for now, Henry and Michael are enough for Jennifer," She explains, folding her hands together and placing them in her lap. "Plus, I think Mekhai and Phoenix are enough for me at the moment too," A.J. adds, causing all to laugh with her. The boys are wonderful, but with Phoenix barely six months old at the moment, I can understand why she would be apprehensive over thinking about another baby so soon.

"They are adorable kids, A.J.," Lacy tells her, earning a warm 'thank you' back. Turning toward Kirsten and Shemar, Lacey asks them her next question. "What about your characters?" She asks, "Are there anymore developing things to soon come along?"

"Just the same ol' incessant flirting from this old woman," Shemar jokes, earning a slap to his arm from Kirsten much to our amusement. However, Shemar quickly earns his friendship back from Kirsten with a hug as she struggles to keep her angry face. "But it's the flirting that I love! I love it! I'm glad it's incessant!" He further clarifies, taking Kirsten in his arms and swaying her as she laughs at him.

With that, our laughter grows until finally quieting down as Kirsten is back to wrapping her arms around Shemar's neck in a non-threatening gesture. This time, the interviewer turns toward Matthew and me with a smirk on her lips, his hand having already left mine moments ago as we felt the questions coming.

"Now," Lacey begins, her voice slow and calculated. I can't help but feel a bit anxious under her unmoving stare. "We have seen the relationship between (C/n) and Spencer grow and have breakthroughs on-screen, but, my question is..." She then pauses, her smirk turning into a grin. "What all do you have to say about yours and Matthew's relationship off-screen?"

Her question takes me by surprise. All of the questions we've been asked before were centered around the relationship between mine and Matthew's characters - never are they about me and Matthew in real life. We always chalked it up to the fact that we make sure we're careful in not revealing that we do have a relationship, but maybe Lacey just kind of sensed it. Although, how could she not?

"Oh, well," I start, looking over at Matthew as he smiles at me. To the others, it's just a plain, nonchalant smile, but to me, I can see the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. "Our relationship is nothing more than friends," I lie, my voice calm as I continue lightly grinning. "We play around and joke around with each other constantly. We're very close," I add, being truthful for once. I know that Matthew desperately wants to stop hiding our relationship from the public, as do I, but we can't. At least, not for another week.

Lacey hums a response with the smirk back on her lips. "So, Matthew's arm around your shoulder was just a friend thing?" She can't help but ask.

"Okay, so, we're best friends!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes before letting out a small laugh. "Two friends can put their arms around each other without it meaning anything else. Right, Shemar?" I add, hearing the man in question agree with a 'I know that's right'. Meanwhile, Matthew has his own way of dealing with the unwanted questions.

"Whoah!" Matthew states, leaning back with a blank look, his hands help up in surprise. "Did you just friendzone me, babe?" He asks in a ridiculous voice, making me stifle a laugh. He's so goofy, but I guess he's trying to help me play it off all the while calming me down too. Like anything else he does for me, he's doing it successfully.

"You're lucky I even said 'best friend,' buddy," I add, crossing my arms with a smirk as I lean back against the couch rather than Matthew's arm like before. Meanwhile, Matthew just stares at me with his mouth agape, trying not to laugh at my words.

"Bu-buddy?!" He questions, purposely stuttering the word for a dramatic effect. "My heart!" He shouts, slapping a hand to his chest. This time, everyone begins laughing at our exchange as we smile at each other and slowly settle back down.

Thankfully, realizing that she won't get the answer she was wanting, Lacey doesn't question mine and Matthew's relationship again, nor does she ask anything more about Spencer and (C/n)'s growing relationship either. In fact, her attention is so far away from me and Matthew at this point that she doesn't even notice our new position with my back against Matthew's chest and his arm lazily strewn across my lap. Any other time, this wouldn't be happening, but with us establishing that we're just "friends" like Shemar and Kristen (funny enough, the only two that actually do know about our relationship), I feel as if we're in the clear.

After the interview is over and we're all released to head back to our dressing rooms, I make my way to mine with the intention of taking my makeup off before heading home and taking a nap. Of course, when I say 'home,' I mean mine and Matthew's apartment. Unfortunately, it's yet another thing we have to hide from everyone else.

Just as I toss my used makeup wipe into the trash bin, I hear my dressing room door open behind me before shortly closing afterward with a click. Turning around to see who walked in, I'm greeted by the person whom I want to see the most, and we can't help but smile at each other as soon as our eyes meet. Barely a few seconds pass before Matthew's arms are around me and my lips are on top of his.

Despite our touches being soft and sweet, they soon turn into something more as I find myself pressed against my dressing room counter with Matthew in between my legs and his hands planted firmly on my waist. "Matthew," I murmur in between kisses as his lips move down to my jaw. I know that if we don't stop now, there will be no stopping at all.

"Matthew, we can't," I whisper, pulling myself back to look at him. Staring back at me with lust blown eyes, I watch as he tries to catch his breath while I do the same. Having to hide our relationship everywhere we go builds up a certain passion that sometimes comes out in situations like now. Although, it's usually at home and not where practically anyone can catch us. "Not here."

"Why? No one's going to hear us," He quickly points out, shrugging as if it were nothing. Diving back into my neck, Matthew presses his lips onto the skin of my collarbone, prompting me to move a hand to his head and tug his hair back. Thankfully, this brings a halt to his actions, and instead of crying out in pain, Matthew jerks his head back into my hand and sighs through his nose, smirking. "Unless you keep that up."

Resisting the urge to laugh, I shake my head at him. "That's what I'm saying!" I almost exclaim, moving my hands to the sides of his smiling face. "Besides, we haven't come out as official yet. We were told to wait until next week's episode that way we don't give away our character's relationship at the same time," I remind him, feeling my heart slowly break as his smile falters.

Knowing that I'm right, Matthew sighs before laying his head against my chest in defeat. "I know, but I'm tired of waiting," He murmurs, his voice gentle and almost in-audible. Out of the two of us, I think Matthew's the one that this affects the most.

"Me too," I agree, my hand that had previously pulled at his hair now soothingly combing through the longer locks. "But, it's just another week, just one more," I point out, reminding us both that we don't have to wait that long anymore. "And then we can finally kiss and hold hands and hug without having a finger waved at us."

Nodding with a chuckle, Matthew continues resting against my chest as I massage his scalp. Although, a flip is switched within a matter of seconds and he's back to smirking. "You know, we could always just give them a sneak peek, nothing more," He suggests, turning his head to nuzzle further into the exposed skin from my v-neck blouse.

"Matthew, you are an animal!" I quietly exclaim, laughing as I have to once again push him away. With him grinning playfully, I move to stand back up in front of him, a similar grin making its way onto my face before I lean up and press my lips to his in a soft, but quick kiss. "I do love you though."

Smiling at my comment, Matthew tightens his arms around me and holds me close, my face now pressed into his chest for a change. "I love you too, (Y/n)," He murmurs, lowering his head as I feel him press a kiss to my hair. One more week is all we have to wait before revealing anything, and honestly, I don't know if this man is going to last that long.

And to be honest, I can't blame him.

#matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #bau

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paranoiddreams · 24 days ago

Note

Hello! It's currently Halloween where I am, so what about reader taking any of the JJK men to Halloween Horror night where they get chased by clowns and all kinds of creepy cosplay. 100 points if any of them scream like a girl or puff up like a cat.

You can choose which JJK men. 😊

Happy Halloween 🎃

SCREAM! (HC)

🎃 [Inc.] Satoru, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi

🎃 Warnings!! - fem!reader, some swearing, descriptions of (fake) blood/gore, movies/shows like The Exorcist, Chucky, Stranger Things, The Last of Us, Beetlejuice, and The Haunting of Hill House, cocky Satoru (what’s new), Megumi’s is terribly sweet, lol, Yuji’s is actually a lil sad I didn’t intent that lmao

🎃 A/n!! - Hello!!! Thank you so much for the ask, I’m currently working on another ask, but thought that I should get this one out before Halloween ends! If I don’t manage to, I’m sincerely sorry, but I hope you enjoy this anyways! I also haven’t been to any of the haunted houses I mention, so if the experience is inaccurate I apologize hehe. Have a happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates it, and a wonderful night to everyone who doesn’t!🫶🏻🤍

🍡Satoru🍡

Satoru is ALL FOR the idea

In fact, he was the one who brought it up.

Going to a theme park to get a good scare, AND have his girlfriend cling to his arm the whole night?

That’s a plan if he’s ever heard one.

“You can hold onto me if you get scared, love~”

Y/n looks up at Satoru, a smile playing on her lips. “Me? Are you sure you won’t get scared, Toru?”

Satoru laughs, waving off the idea with his hand. “You kidding, love?! I’m the strongest, how could I get scared?”

He’s eating his words by the third haunted house.

The first was alright, just an alien invasion walk through, which he found himself practically flying through.

You, in the other hand, took his offer to your advantage, and held onto his arm every time a slimy animatronic creature popped out of the wall.

“Don’t look so smug, Toru,” y/n scoffs as they walk out of the first haunted house, her heart still racing a bit.

“I don’t even need my 6 eyes to tell that you’re scared, baby! It’s okay to admit I was right—I usually am,” Satoru smiles, leaning down to kiss her cheek, only to be met with a scowl.

“Whatever…”

Boy are you happy when you both enter an exorcist themed haunted house, and Satoru’s body stiffens significantly beside you.

It’s dark, and thick fog fills the house as you both walk through.

There’s screaming and growling in the distance, which seems to move around the house.

You’re holding onto Satoru’s arm even tighter, but his smug smile is nowhere to be seen.

The last room of the house comes into view, a wave of relief washing over the couple as they walk eagerly to the door.

When Satoru twists the handle, the old wood creaking loudly, an actor dressed as a priest jumps out.

“Help! Help!” The man screams, his white collar stained with blood. He’s then seemingly dragged to the side of the room, a growl emitting from the corner.

Satoru walks hesitantly inside, y/n clinging to his side. Another actor, a little girl resembling the same one in the movie this house took inspiration from, is standing over the priest, blood and black liquid dripping from her mouth.

Y/n screams, running towards the exit on the other side of the room. She drags Satoru along, his face pale and frozen in fear.

Yk the face Satoru pulled when he first met Megumi?

Yeah, that’s what he looks like when you both leave the haunted house.

He can feel his heart beating rapidly, but puts on a brave face for you, of course.

That is, until the third, and last house of the night.

You insisted, since the haunt was based off of the show “The Last of Us”, and you both had watched it earlier that year

But little did you know, Satoru was nervously biting the inside of his cheek each episode.

But how could he say no to you when you looked so sweet, looking up at him with those adorable eyes of yours???

“Last one. It’s…getting late.”

Y/n looks up at Satoru as they both walk towards the, apparently, last house of the night.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Satoru Gojo,” she smiles, reaching a finger up to poke his cheek.

He grabs her hand, stopping her from touching his face. “Don’t tease me, love, you can’t talk,” he says, putting her finger between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Y/n pouts, pulling her finger back.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to leave after this one,” Satoru says, looking up at the large haunted attraction they’re about to enter.

Satoru thinks he’s got everything together when you first walk in, more interested in the set they’ve built and how accurate it is to the show

Until the first clicker pops out and he’s brought back to the scenes of the show that made him nearly jump off of the couch.

He quite literally screams like a little girl, his mask falling off, which only blinds the actor decorated in the costume that scared Satoru in the first place.

Now they’re both screaming, and you’re off to the side with a shell-shocked expression, wondering to yourself how this even happened.

“Baby…don’t be mad, please?”

“Satoru…” you grumble, looking out the window of his car, “we’re banned for life…”

“Honestly…” he sighs, “wasn’t even thinking of going back after that.”

Y/n glares at him from the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest. But when she remembers the screams of her boyfriend, the actor, and a little boy behind them who happened to witness the incident, a snort escapes her lips.

“You’re such a dork,” she laughs, leaning over the center console to grab his hand, kissing his knuckles. “I didn’t want to go back after the first house anyways.”

🫀Sukuna🫀

He is not amused one bit.

Why the hell would humans create a whole event just to dress up and scare themselves? It’s stupid!

But when you ask him so sweetly to attend with you, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

“This night will be a waste of time,” Sukuna grumbles down at y/n as they walk around the crowded amusement park, actors dressed as demons, vampires, clowns, and zombies jumping out to scare people.

When one of them, a man in an elaborate clown getup, comes up screaming, honking a horn in y/n’s face, Sukuna can feel his anger boil. It takes every ounce of his cursed-being, and a harsh squeeze of his hand from his girlfriend, for him to compose himself and walk away.

“Sukuna, do not—“

“What were they thinking?! Getting in your face, invading your space like that!” He grumbles, his hand still in y/n’s. “Assholes…”

You decide to take him into a haunted house, hoping it’ll be a little less invasive.

There are various options every year, but you’re happy that this year includes a movie you both watched, and Sukuna didn’t seem too annoyed by:

Beetlejuice.

He even chuckled a few times!

“Oh? That movie? Yes, I remember,” Sukuna says, recounting the movie as soon as y/n points to the cryptic house in the distance.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much effort for her to take him inside of the attraction; he was practically the one dragging her in, actually.

With a wicked smile, Sukuna looks at the surroundings of the house as music blares through hidden speakers, the familiar purple and green theme of the movie throughout. He holds y/n’s hand while walking through the halls, seemingly unfazed by the actor leading them through, and the animatronics jumping out at every corner to scare them.

He starts to feel his distaste for ‘frivolous human events’ quickly turns to amusement when y/n practically clings to him even more throughout the house. Every jumpscare, loud noise, or enthusiastic actor that pops out and sends waves of fear through her body no longer gets a death stare from Sukuna; rather, he finds himself laughing at the little effort it takes his girlfriend, relishing in the feeling of priority he gets every time she squeezes his fingers or bicep.

When they come towards the end of the house, and the infamous character of Beetlejuice comes out himself, y/n is initially really giddy and pulling Sukuna towards him to take a picture.

But when they go, one of the huge, iconic sandworms from the movie pops out in front of them. That, including the cackling laughs of the actor portraying Beetlejuice, elicit a horrified scream from y/n, while Sukuna is openly chuckling as she pulls him out.

He’s shaking his head as you both leave, but can’t help the small smile on his face when he looks down to see you still holding onto his muscular arm.

You’re even laughing now, telling him how much of a thrill that was.

He thinks he’s starting to understand why humans come to places like this by the time the moon has risen high in the sky, and a glint of exhaustion sparkles in your eyes.

As the car drives down the nearly empty highway, soft music playing from the radio, y/n leans her head on the window. Her eyes flutter closed every few moments, the memories of that night flashing in her mind.

“Hey, brat,” sukuna calls softly from the driver’s seat, his hand gripping the steering wheel, “you’re that tired, huh?”

Y/n lifts her head, looking over at her boyfriend in the sliver of moonlight pouring through his window.

“Yeah,” she hums, resting her hand atop his on the center console, “I had a lot of find today, Kuna.”

Sukuna thinks about suppressing his smile as he usually does, but when he looks over at y/n and sees her sleepy eyes, he can’t. She won’t even remember this tomorrow, he thinks.

“I did too, surprisingly.”

Y/n lifts her head slightly, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “You did?” She asks. “You really did?”

“I really did,” Sukuna sighs, looking at the road ahead. “Human’s aren’t entirely stupid, I suppose; but the whole Halloween tradition is still meaningless to me.”

Y/n giggles, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “So you’ll go with me again next year?”

Sukuna turns his head to look at her, a flash of amusement in his eyes. She wants to go again?

“Silly girl,” he smiles, lifting her hand up to his lips, “you want to indulge in something that made you shake in terror again?”

Y/n shrugs her shoulders, blushing a bit at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

“You scare me, but I come back to you every night, don’t I?”

“Hmm…you’re very right, little lamb.”

⭐️Yuji⭐️

Another boy who’s all for it

He’s actually been to many Halloween themed parks ever since he was a kid, his grandpa usually taking him.

“He was a sucker for a good scare!” He’d tell you, an enthusiastic smile on his face.

Sobbing and crying.

So ofc, you’re putting on your bravest face the whole time in order not to ruin his night.

“Babe! Babe! Look, there’s a house for stranger things! And the Exorcist, annnnd Chucky! We have to go to the Chucky one, please baby?!”

Y/n, looking around with a subtle sweat building at her hairline, sends him the best smile she can. “Y-yeah! Let’s go, Yuj…”

Yuji takes his girlfriend’s hand, dragging her along like a kid in a candy store. He points out each detail of the park, screaming and cackling every time an actor jumps out to scare both of them.

Y/n on the other hand…is a mess on the inside. She uses every ounce of her being to put on a smile, and force out those breathy-fake laughs she hates doing so much.

But it’s all worth it each time she sees Yuji’s perfect smile, or hears his infectious laugh.

Yuji drags you to the Chucky attraction first, a giddy pep to his step.

You’re trying not to shake too much as screaming and music boom from inside the house, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand tightly.

But of course, your sweet, sweet baby Yuji only takes this as your equal excitement, dragging you faster towards the house.

The walls are painted bright shades of yellow, red, blue, and decorated with various pictures of the doll the house is based on, music and childish laughter flowing through the speakers hidden throughout.

“Woah! Look at how elaborate this place is!” Yuji couldn’t be more excited, looking around with his big, curious, brown eyes, and a smile.

But y/n, she can only focus on the anxiety creeping up her spine as they walk through the maze-like halls, a constant feeling of fear nagging at her. She tries to shove it down, but each and every time the red-headed demonic doll pops out of the walls or paintings, she can’t help but scream like a little girl.

Yuji doesn’t really notice, too busy screaming and laughing himself; only, he’s thrilled to have the constant rush of fear flowing through him.

Y/n, standing next to him and squeezing his hand, is starting to chip away at her pride and confidence.

It isn’t until the stranger things haunted house that Yuji realizes something is wrong with the way you’re acting.

Throughout the first half of the tour, you seem fine, gazing at the LED lights and elaborate set pieces that are so similar to the show

But when the first loud bang, and cloud of thick fog, rolls in, he can practically feel you shaking next to him.

“Baby…are you okay?”

Y/n looks up, Yuji’s face illuminated by the red LED lights surrounding them. “Yeah, what are you talking about, Yuji?” She smiles back at him, swinging their arms together in between them as they walk.

Yuji decides not to push her any further, instead continuing down the twisting halls of the haunted house.

But when they both turn a corner, and a large demogorgon rips through a slimy, grotesque ‘portal’ in the wall, y/n looses all confidence, her terrified state finally coming to fruition.

This time, Yuji isn’t laughing at the high-tech animatronic jump scares. It takes one glance over at his pretty girlfriend’s face twisted in a genuinely horrified scream for him to pick her up bridal style, and run towards the exit.

It takes at least five minutes of you reassuring him your fine before he puts you back down lmao

He’s so worried, pressing his fingers to your pulse every few minutes to check if your heart is slowing down.

He genuinely feels so so bad for not noticing your fear sooner, feeling like the worst boyfriend ever.

But you assure him it was you who didn’t want to show your fear, putting on a face for him.

“But…why didn’t you just tell me, y/n? We could’ve left way earlier!”

Y/n looks down at the wooden picnic table they snagged, picking at the decrepit wood. “I know…but you were so excited, and I didn’t want to be a big baby about it.”

Yuji’s heart breaks, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you tightly. “Baby, please, you could never be a big baby about anything,” he says into her hair, “if you’re scared of something, hell, I’m terrified of it. We never have to come back again.”

Y/n pulls away, looking into his eyes. “No, no, Yuji, we can’t! You love this place, we can—“

“No,” yuji pouts dramatically, now acting as if he was the one who was scared out of his mind a minute ago, “I’m scared. I wanna leave.”

“Yuj—“

“Please?”

Yuji looks at y/n with those damn puppy eyes, and she can’t help but laugh. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

Yuji just smiles. “For you, and only you, my looooveeee,” he says, dragging out his words for emphasis.

As they both walk back to the parking lot, looking for Yuji’s car, y/n looks back at the amusement park in the distance.

“You sure it’s okay we leave, Yuji? I know you and your grandpa came here every year…”

Yuji stops, his pink hair blowing in the night wind as he looks down at his perfect girlfriend. He smiles, and ruffles the top of her hair.

“Yeah, well my grandpa would much rather me spend my time with the love of my life than at a stupid theme park that’ll come back next year,” he says wholeheartedly. “He would have loved you more than a stupid tradition.”

🫐Megumi🫐

Okay, be warned, if you take this man to any kind of theme park, he’s GOING to be that nonchalant-doesn’t gaf kinda guy

So when you decide to take him to Halloween Horror Nights, you’re expecting the same kind of behavior from him.

BUT NO!

This man is on guard from the moment you both get through the gates

He was complaining about how expensive the tickets were, before he stopped and looked around, eyes wide and completely silent.

“Megs? Are you okay?”

Megumi is too concerned with the man in an elaborate zombie costume a few feet away, his eyes slanted. Y/n recognizes the look in his eyes as the look he has when he senses cursed energy in an area they’re in.

But when he takes her hand ever so subtly, she knows that isn’t the case.

“Are you…scared, honey?” She asks in a hushed tone, holding back a laugh.

Megumi’s azure eyes dart down to hers, his lips forming a thin line. “Y/n…” he says in a warning tone.

“What?” She exclaims. “I’m a little nervous too, don’t worry baby—“

“I’m not scared.”

That man does not want to admit he’s scared JSHEBSIWVVW

But by the time it gets darker, and you both start walking around more parts of the park, stakes start rising.

Actors in makeup and costumes jump out and chase you both, eliciting screams and laughs from you, but DEATH STARES from your poor boyfriend🥲

“Megumi! Stop looking at them like that when they scare us!”

Megumi looks at y/n, an annoyed huff escaping his lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but a man in clown makeup and a colorful-bloody costume slides past them, honking a loud horn in both of their faces.

Y/n jumps, squeezing Megumi’s hand, while he practically yanks her into his arms, almost resembling a cat when it’s fur puffs up in fear.

“Megs—“

“Let’s go to the ice cream stand.”

He’ll say he wants to get a food item from every food stand you both pass, but in reality he just knows the actors can’t get too close to them there HAHAHAH.

He’ll end up spending all of his money (that Gojo gave him for his ‘little date’) on drinks and food for you both.

You’re not complaining, thinking it’s cute that your strong-brave-sorcerer boyfriend is scared of humans in costumes.

That is until he’s down to only a few bucks, and you both know you can’t avoid the park anymore.

“Megumi, do you want to go back home? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” y/n whispers in her boyfriend’s ear, pulling him into a secluded alley.

He looks down at her, bringing a soft hand up to her cheek. “Baby, I don’t want to ruin your fun,” he says, genuine guilt in his tone. But she can also sense the anxiety and fear in his touch.

Y/n smiles, putting her hand on the back of his caressing her cheek. “Honey, my night won’t be ruined as long as you’re here with me,” she whispers. “It’s no fun when one of us is having a good time and the other is scared.”

For the first time that night, Megumi smiles, leaning down to kiss y/n’s forehead gratefully.

“Okay, baby…let’s go home and watch that one movie you wanted to—what was it called?”

Y/n’s eyes light up, an enthusiastic sparkle in them.

“Terrifier!”

Megumi’s faces falls a bit, but being scared by a movie on the couch with his girlfriend is way better than being jumpscared by strangers in costumes.

“Yes, that one.”

Special thanks to @gamer-kat for the amazing request!! Hope you enjoyed ml🩷

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ckret2 · 2 months ago

Note

So last night, after reading the newest chapter and then writing my fanfic² until too late, I had a lot of dreams about Bill. Most of them were him being disturbingly tormented because my dreams are always on some joker shit at some point.

But I do remember a funny part with Goldie! Most of this part was basically the beach episode, but bill was more integrated into the teen friend group. All the teens were dressed up in Bill paraphernalia.

There were cops there, and it felt a little more 70s in vibe, where like, the Bill-Satanism thing was widespread around all the teens and there was a big satanic panic around it. Which was actually valid because it was more of a real cult.

Most of my dreams are a bunch of sort of separate dreams with a thread connecting them, and the thread in this one was that Bill was being hunted down by... authorities. And for some reason regular human cops were part of it.

So the cops come up to the group of teens, Bill among them, and they've been tipped off that the REAL Bill (currently goldie) is hiding among the bill-decorated teens.

So the cops go through all the teens, doing some (facist-y) body checks. Bill is very nervous by the time they get to him. It's this gruff lady officer, and she's checking him over, getting more and more suspicious.

Then someone makes some comment about "that's not Bill cipher, that's a woman".

And bill snags this chance for a distraction.

"And why shouldn't Bill Cipher be a woman?! I believe she is! Is it because Bill Cipher is powerful? A God? I believe God is a woman!"

He stands on a picnic table at some point. This is still on the beach. (He actually climbs a tree, dream logic whatever) He's raised his voice and he's speaking from the chest like this is gospel.

"Why shouldn't God be a woman?! Why shouldn't she be gay, or transexual? God is power! God is a woman!" People on the beach are clapping.

The female cop is in tears, a sad smile. She helps Bill down from the table and, with a teary but powerful voice, she comes out as a lesbian. She thanks Bill for his bravery. Everyone on the beach is clapping.

The and Bill share an embrace. Bill pets her hair "shh...I got you. You're so brave..."

They shake hands. "You're alright! We're gonna let you of the hook. Take care!"

Bill is the mouthpiece of feminism.

Yeah this is the exact kind of bullshit Bill would do and get away with.

Also, here 🔴 your dodgeball for predicting in a dream that while hanging out with the teens Bill nearly gets found out by the cops and says something that sounds like he's about to stupidly blow his cover but he swings it around to getting out of trouble completely by exploiting the fact that Gravity Falls has the gayest police force in the nation

#marsupials of mars #ask #bill goldilocks cipher #my art

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gd-dollopole · 2 months ago

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How normal was for Arthur to dream of Merlin or to call his name in his sleep, that during the episode, “The Diamond of the Day”, Gwen didn’t even question him, but told him that, “It was just a dream”, because she believed that if Arthur woke up that distressed and about Merlin, he must have seen something so horrendous that he worried about him to the point of calling his name as he startled awake.

Yet, Arthur responded with, “It didn’t feel like a dream.”

He didn’t even question why Merlin had told him what to do, or how he knew about it.

He was still shocked when he found out he had magic, so it meant that it hadn’t been the first time Arthur had woken up thinking about Merlin, or about something he had told him during the day.

And what if both Arthur and Merlin unconsciously told each other things without using words and the reason behind why they stared so much into each other’s eyes was because they couldn’t understand why they could feel what the other was feeling and therefore listen to the other’s emotions?

When Merlin stared into the crystal into the Crystal Cave, before reaching Arthur, he saw the moments he had spent with him in a brief flash, those in which he had saved him, and one of these was when he was about to die and so he had helped Arthur with his blue ball of light escape to safety during season one.

This just reinforces the theory that they have a telepathic bond.

Arthur trusted Merlin with his entire being, with his life, that even if it meant putting at risk his men, his wife, he listened to what Merlin had told him in his dream, and acted on it.

But most importantly, Merlin told Arthur he was sorry he had to leave him, that he hoped one day he would have understand.

God, Merlin thought the both of them still had so much time.

But Arthur only wanted him by his side during his final battle.

The only thing he cared about when Merlin found him, was that it took him time, because he had felt alone for the first time, after so many years, and he wasn’t used to it anymore.

Arthur had finally got rid of that solitude he had, he was so attached to Merlin, so devoted, so trusting of his judgment above anyone else’s, that he couldn’t cope without Merlin being with him even in such a dangerous situation.

“Alright, it’s true. I came back because you’re the only friend I have and I couldn’t bare to lose you.”

Arthur couldn’t understand what had gone wrong the day before, when they had played dice and had fun. Arthur didn’t know about Merlin’s magic, they had gone to worse quests together so no, Arthur was being grumpy and an idiot when he called Merlin a coward before they parted ways, but he didn’t believe it one second.

Arthur, as he slept, as he dressed for battle and as he fought, thought that he had done something irreparable to Merlin, and that he wouldn’t have been able to fix whatever that was, because he believed that this would have actually been it.

He was going to die.

Arthur knew it, as he also knew that like any other day and after any other banter, Merlin would have woken him up and go with him, but when he didn’t see him, he worried so much that the moment he heard Merlin in his sleep, he couldn’t stop what he was about to do.

He did not care about the war anymore, or about his men. Arthur left Gwen, of all people, to go in search of Merlin, thinking that if he followed his voice, followed what Merlin had told him, he would have finally see him again.

Even Arthur’s values and thoughts and over all life had changed completely once he met Merlin.

And his life had no meaning without him, that he became so devoted to the point of destruction.

He knew that if he had listened to Merlin, he wouldn’t have been stabbed by Mordred, so he paid the consequences.

What Arthur truly cared about was that if he had to go forever, then he wanted to die by Merlin’s side.

Because they had always been together, no matter what.

‘Until death do us part.’

For Arthur, not even death would have made him say goodbye to Merlin for all eternity.

And that was enough for him.

#they make me sick #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #they’re so in love and they have such respect for each other it’s almost unbelievable #it’s insane #they can listen to each other in more ways than one

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possiblylando · 3 months ago

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HTP; Ghoul Lore Audio Log Spoilers/Analysis/Discussion

Dude holy shit uh Spoiler barrier and then all in cause

Okay Okay fuck where to begin this episode literally changes everything okay I guess lets start at the Draught. Based on what we know about this unique Draught, it means Grimal might not be the ghoul?? If the ghoul potentially has this Draught (which I vaguely doubt will come into play in this arc specifically) it could mean anyone could be the ghoul so long as they were only in a place without 1 other person. Atleast I assume so because if they could use this high power Dominate on multiple people simultaneously then this whole operation would be cooked from the start. While I was very mixed on the idea of Gloria as the Ghoul previously, I think its far more possible now. This high level Dominate (Lets assume 4 dots) This ghoul could have access to Rationalize or Forgetful Mind, Or any others in that category. If Grimal is was being commanded to act that could explain why everything is so suspicious around her. Have someone else go in and take care of Occam while the ghoul sits with someone else and has the perfect alibi. So now I think the possibilities for Ghoul are; 1. Grimal is the Ghoul (The Draught is a red herring and simply setting up something in a future arc instead of this current one.) 2. Gloria is the Ghoul & has this Draught; this is based more on Vibes and the fact Gloria doesn't actually do too much in part 1 outside checking Occam's pulse. If she's the ghoul and commanded someone (Namely Grimal) to attack Occam, she would have a vested interested in knowing if the attack was successful. Okay thats about it for my thoughts on the Ghoul right now. Onto the far more important bit of this episode. Because this was not simpyl a Ghoul Lore episode, THIS WAS A MARCKUS LORE EPISODE TROJAN HORSE.

But before the deep Marckus shit- Markus was 12 in 1988. Door was present and seems to be in his 20s or 30s. Boy has not been born yet and Boy is 11 in 2006 so he was born in like 1995. So I think its reasonable to place door as being in his 20s here, having Boy in his 30s. This means Door is probably 8-15? (Maybe) years older than Markus which would make him roughly 40 in modern day. D does look markedly younger in these photographs but I'm not sure if thats art style or actually because he's aged. It does put a damped on my thoughts about D being MUCH older than he seems. But we do know his previous Ex-Wife Rozalia (The Ghoul) is roughly 108 in modern day. It seems to be implied D had met & later married her after she was pretty deep into being a ghoul so there probably was a large age gap already. But it still kinda stands out to me. D is very afraid or Marckus becoming a Ghoul because he sees himself in him. I don't necessarily think D was a ghoul (thought it could explain his weird age). Thought all this might be confirmation Bias as in the more recent episodes D's hair has been more consistently colored with grey streaks when compared to earlier episodes where it was more like a sheen in his hair. It just feels like D has done too much to only be roughly in his 60-70s and very fit. While older people can certainly be in good physical condition it doesnt seem like D has suffered any real negatives from aging? He's MINIMUM 18 years older than Door who is in his 40s but again that's a low ball. I don't know. Alright time for the Marckus stuff. So its rather basic background knowledge that HTP's main cast is inspired by the cast of Warhammer 40k TTS. Now up until this point I had thought it was mostly a baseline thing. Only really carrying over personalities and vague relationships between characters while having the freedom to change them with that background knowledge. But based on this episode it appears to be more relevant.

Whatever the fuck Marckus managed to summon, It was something not even D understood. This is in directly parallel with 40k's Magnus who Marckus is based on. For those who don't know about 40k lore (I don't blame you its VERY long.), Magnus is a Primarch (Emperor's special kids) who ended up being manipulated by 40k's god of trickery and ended up fucking up literally everything because of his lack of thinking things through and the influence of said trickster god. Gods in 40k are manifestations of humanity (and alien's) collective subconscious minds and often take the forms of their most volatile negative aspects. They're entited formed from 'The Warp' which is the source of magic in 40k. Magnus is very naturally tuned to the warp. Almost all the issues in TTS (and 40k) relating to Magnus are because he has a MASSIVE complex. He craves parental affection and affirmation but in TTS every time he thinks hes denied it, some shit goes wrong. When he actually gets that parental affection (Earlier season 2 iirc) he mellows out alot until finding out the only reason the emperor (D's counterpart) brought him back was so that Magnus would act as a pawn and decoy in his 5d chess game to deal with political enemies. Magnus is not happy about this. With all this background information, whats present in this episode slots into place. Marckus seems to have forgotten about the incident yes. The better case is that he blocked out the memory due to trauma. But the worse possibility is that a seed was planted. One that's been festering within him since that time. D may be planning to tell Marckus everything in a few months, But I get the feeling before those months are up, That seed will sprout. In one form or another, Marckus will be given the option to go down the same path of darkness as his predecessor. I don't think Marckus would go for such a path without a push but the one providing that push might be D, even if unintentionally. D is so focused on the forest that he's missing the trees.

#hunter: the parenting #D's sprites were pretty funny cause the heads are like very light shading but the one where he stares forward has really intense shading so #he just randomly gets really grim looking at the most random shit #also I might do a second post theorizing on what Marckus actually summoned but idk if its actual wod lore or original stuff for htp #he wasnt (and still isnt) a mage so I kinda doubt it?

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xxlady-lunaxx · 7 months ago

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Live for us | {SaneObaGiyuu}

Theme: Angst+fluff+angst!

Note: TW's!! self harm, suicide, self degradation, blah blah, ok you get it

they're already dating and tanji doesn't exist <3

×××

There was a thing about life that made it so unappealing. Several things, actually. But for one, you don't even make it out alive. What's the point? What do you live for if you're just going to die in a couple years? You don't even know if you'll make it past tomorrow. So what's the point?

The fact stood, however, that if Giyuu died, he would no longer see Sanemi and Obanai anymore. Which seemed to be the sole reason he was alive. He didn't even know if he should keep living for them. He was a nuisance anyway. He would only bother them and they were better off alone. He wondered, often, if they would notice if he died.

Though they did seem to notice other things. Like if he was quieter than usual—which was saying something, considering he was often quiet—or if he hadn't been eating. His eating problems weren't like Obanai's. They were selfish—Obanai's made sense.

Giyuu didn't eat because he hoped he would starve to death. He would waste Sanemi's carefully made food just because he wasn't happy. He was stupid.

He was so sure that Sanemi and Obanai were quite done with him. He figured that if they weren't so nice, they would've dropped his ass immediately. He had forced them into the relationship anyhow, right? He'd forced himself into theirs. Somehow, for some reason, they had let him. They acted as if they loved him—but did they really?

Sometimes, when he watched them, he could imagine that they would be perfectly fine without him. Smiling and laughing. They looked good together. They were better off without his presence. He was nothing but a river between to pieces of land, pushing them apart. He only ruined things.

They insisted, for his sake, that he wasn't annoying. They said they loved him. They said they cared. But they couldn't truly, right? Shinobu had said it herself—nobody liked him. Nobody wanted to be his friend, much less his boyfriend. So how had he gotten two boyfriends? Simple. They were too kind to let him down. They probably figured he would cry like a fucking baby and follow them like a stupid child if they rejected him. He would. He probably would.

That was the worst of it. He knew why they hated him. But he couldn't let himself to accept it. Or, at least, leave them be. He stuck to them like glue, unwilling to leave their side. You see, they were the only people who could make him feel, even just for a split second, that he might possibly want to live. That he might be worth it. That life might be worth it. Just for a minute. And it was the most selfish thing he ever let himself keep. He refused to be selfish, typically, but he needed it. Wanted it. He longed for it. Yearned for it to last. A little longer. A minute more.

×××

Sanemi knew what it looked like when someone hurt themself deliberately. He would know. He used to do it. But that was in the past. He hadn't given it much of a thought again after months—years—passed. He began to feel content again and mostly forgot that he'd ever had an episode like that.

Obanai and Giyuu were his absolute pride and joy—and Genya, though he would never admit it to anyone. They made him feel as if he could lead a somewhat normal life, or at least die a content death. So he went along with his life just fine for a while. Until Giyuu stumbled into his house, face pale and arms slack.

For a moment, he got a sense of déjà vu. He didn't understand it at first and simply picked up Giyuu, asking if he was alright. Then it hit him.

The first time he had purposefully harmed himself, he hadn't been sure what was wrong with him. It was when Masachika was alive. Sanemi hadn't slept well that day and had awoken with a surge of guilt and pain. He didn't understand himself. He had grabbed his katana and numbly drew it down his own body, watching blood spill from the wounds. The blade had been sharp. And he had pressed much too hard. But the pain felt relieving, as if feeling some pain would make up for the loss of his family, his siblings he'd been unable to protect. It soothed his mind. But then Masachika had entered the room.

The katana had dropped and suddenly his wounds stung in a million other ways and he no longer felt the momentary comfort from them. He cried out, standing. He had wobbled towards Masachika, unsure what he was doing. He was sure, now, that he must've looked exactly as Giyuu did now. Collapsing into Masachika's arms, molded by the concern lacing his friend's gaze.

He must've looked the same. Pale and shaky. Wondering what the hell had he done.

Sanemi tugged Giyuu's sleeves up. When he had done it, it had been all over his body. His legs, his arms, his chest. But he had caught a glint of bandages from under Giyuu's haori sleeve. It hadn't been there earlier and he hadn't gone on any missions since they had last met.

The bandages were stained red. It was only one arm, but it was still one arm. It was still there.

He scooped Giyuu up, taking him to his room. He placed him down on the futon, ordering him to stay there before shouting at his crow to go find Obanai and scouring his bathroom for towels and bandages.

When Obanai had arrived, they had mopped up Giyuu's arm, putting light pressure on the wounds as they dabbed the blood with the towel. The bandages were wrapped around his arm and then they pulled him under the covers of the bed, quiet. They stole worried glances, holding Giyuu in a tight embrace.

After Giyuu had fallen asleep, they had spoken to one another in hushed tones for hours. They hadn't known that Giyuu had been unhappy to the point he would do something like this. And Sanemi feared it wasn't a one-time thing. That it was worse. That it would spread.

Obanai suggested they spoke to Giyuu about it. He said that they would have to help him, somehow. To make him have something to live for, maybe.

When they talked to Giyuu, the following day, over this matter, he had brushed it off.

"I'm alright," he had said. "I was just feeling bad yesterday."

Neither believed him. Giyuu had never been the best at lying. He hadn't suddenly gotten the talent to.

They ended up dragging him back to Sanemi's house for another cuddle session. This time, however, they involved Giyuu in the talking. The conversation went back and forth time after time, constantly revolving back to the fact that Sanemi and Obanai loved him dearly and then Giyuu denying it and assuming they didn't.

In the end, however, they were satisfied with the results. Giyuu ended up contently snuggling into their hugs and finally giving up with his argument. he seemed a bit happier after the talk and Sanemi and Obanai relaxed slightly.

Of course, they of all people should've known to never let their guard down. But it's only human to forget every now and then. Even when it comes at the worst times possible.

×××

It would've been a lie to say that Giyuu hadn't felt better after his boyfriends told him how much they loved him for an hour straight. But it would've also been a lie to say that it helped him on the long run. See, it made him feel better for about two hours after the talk. Roughly. And then his mind ran wild.

They must've been telling him that to make him stop being a burden to them. So they would stop having to help him. They probably felt pressured to do it. Yes, that was it. They didn't love him as much as they said they did. Words were empty, right? Promises didn't save Tsutako's life. Neither did they mean much when they told him "I love you." They didn't love him. They shouldn't. They wouldn't. Who would love him anyway? It was illogical. Unlikely. Stupid.

The thoughts molded his mind. They made up his thoughts. They made him want to curl up in a ball and cry. And maybe get dehydrated from that and die. Then in that moment he made a decision. It wasn't a sober one. He wasn't in the right mind. But it was far too late to stop him.

He was being ludicrous. Of course they didn't love him! Of course they wanted him out of their sight right away! Why would they care about him? There was nothing appealing about Giyuu; he was quiet and stubborn and annoying. He was nothing but another person to worry about because he was too childish and careless to take care of himself. So he was better off gone. Out of their lives.

His hand was on his katana, pulling it out of his sheathe. Then the blade was at his throat. He felt nothing more.

×××

It came, as would be expected from anyone but Giyuu, a shock. At first, the Hashira were confused. Was this a joke? It was the middle of the day. What had happened to Giyuu? How had he died? And then one word fell upon their ears and they were stiffened with shock.

"Suicide."

The news reached Sanemi and Obanai first—who were on their way to Giyuu's house to hopefully spend some time together. They had been making their way idly to his house, talking lightheartedly. Then a crow swooped by. Was that Kanzaburou?

The word of Giyuu's death that he'd inflicted upon himself had barely left the bird's beak before the two had dropped their food—which they'd had to maybe convince Giyuu to eat lunch with them—and rushed to his house. The door was broken open—there was no use knocking.

The house was eerily silent for the middle of the day. Their footsteps, though loud, and their calls of his name didn't fill in the quiet that had befallen over the house. They stopped dead at his bedroom door, eyes wide but face otherwise slack with shock. Giyuu's body was slumped down, his head deattached from his body. His katana was held loosely in his hand, blood dotted vaguely on the blade. He was dead.

First came the shock. The processing. Then panic surged both Hashira forward and they stumbled towards his body, kneeling by his side. There was no hope on saving him. There couldn't be.

They searched the room. Had there been something to trigger him? No. What was it? Had they not done enough? Had they made it worse? What had happened? What the hell had fucking happened?

The news rippled through the Hashira. A death like this, though not uncommon for Demon Slayers, was the first amongst the Hashira in decades. Because of that, several Hashira were at Giyuu's house within minutes of getting the occurance. They found Sanemi and Obanai bent over Giyuu's body, clutching each other and shaking. Tears didn't seem to be coming out but silent screams rendered them useless as Tengen slowly pulled Giyuu from under them, wrapping him in a blanket to be buried.

Neither Sanemi nor Obanai knew what had happened. But both blamed themself. And the cycle began.

×××

« Word count: 1921 »

sun is shining, birds are singing, nice day to write angst!

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junebugdunes · 9 months ago

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alright listen. it is 3 in the morning and I have a cold but listen to me. I feel like one of the biggest reasons I'm so enthralled with Ramsey and Percy's dynamic is because it subverts the typical cop/con buddy duo-

Usually in buddy cop shows the dynamic play out as the smug or playful conman and the straight man cop

But what I'm really into is Ramsey is actually the "straight man" in their dynamic because Percy is so strange but completely able to roll with basically anything that happens, and she takes everything on the same serious level that she would normally

Which I think a lot of characters mistake as her taking everything at face value, but she doesn't do that either- Ramsey takes advantage of the situation by lying to her about his epithet and trying to play off how big of a criminal he is, and she does believe him, but you can see as the episodes move along she has her suspicions- but she's not accusatory. [Ep 6 "All's Well That Ends Well" 15:15]

She won't make any moves until she has solid evidence, which is a really good quality considering her line of work. She's smart, but she's not unfair. (Added to the fact that even once she recognized Ramsey, she made sure to negotiate something nice for him because of how much help he was. [Ep 7 "Winner Takes All" 23:20])

I've read a lot of fan stuff where people have completely misread her character and they make her so... robotic? And like, unemotional. Which she completely isn't.

She's very emotional. Although a lot of her more emotional scenes are read as comedic, she's not cold or robotic. Some of my favorite scenes from her are the crayon debauchery scene:

[Ep 6 "All's Well That Ends Well" 6:55] Along the same lines as when Zora broke her peashooter (the Oh Danny Boy scene)

When the Well Watcher was promoted to Sky Watcher and she was very supportive :) [Ep 6 16:50]

And when Ramsey used his epithet for the first time in front of her [Ep 7 19:15]

I feel like the comedy of these bits are really through Ramsey's reactions as he kind of just... doesn't know how to handle the situation or his brain literally won't process it [Ep 6 7:40]

Yes, Percy for the most part is a joke character but the whole point is the joke plays off of her being the silly one and Ramsey being the straight man, not vice versa.

I'm really tired so I can't exactly remember how I was going to wrap this up but

TL;DR: I really like Ramsey & Percy's dynamic and I feel like a lot of misreadings of it are due to a lack of understanding Percy's character

#long post #sorry for the 10 paragraphs nobody's gonna read #i had to get it out of my system #epithet erased #percy king #percival king #ramsey murdoch

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confused-pyramid · 10 months ago

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One Step From Grace | s4

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

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

word count: 19.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26

a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man

series masterlist

"Garcia, is everyone okay?"

You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."

He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."

"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.

She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.

"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.

Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.

"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."

She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"

"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."

Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"

"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.

It's not your place to have this discussion.

Screw you.

"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.

"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."

***

You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.

You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.

When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.

"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."

You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.

He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."

He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.

You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.

Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.

***

"There's a bomb on the ambulance."

Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.

Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."

He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"

Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."

"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.

He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."

The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.

Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.

"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."

A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."

All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.

***

You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.

"What are you still doing here?"

You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.

You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."

His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."

"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."

That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.

He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."

"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."

You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.

"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.

He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."

You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.

"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."

Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.

You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."

The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."

Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.

The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.

"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."

You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"

He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."

The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."

His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.

***

You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.

You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.

"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."

After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.

"Chloe, drop the gun."

The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"

She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.

As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."

His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."

It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.

"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."

"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."

He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."

The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"

"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.

***

"Stand!"

You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.

He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me, about a raid, maybe?"

You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."

He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.

You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."

You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."

She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.

It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.

You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.

Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.

***

He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.

He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.

"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.

Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."

His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.

"Her name was Nancy Lunde."

His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.

But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."

He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.

He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.

***

You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.

You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.

"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."

"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"

"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.

"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"

"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."

Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.

"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."

Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.

***

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.

"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."

You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.

They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.

"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."

Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.

Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.

***

"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."

Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.

"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.

***

"Which one of you is it?"

Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"

You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.

Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.

Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."

The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.

***

It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.

Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.

"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.

Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"

She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.

Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.

***

When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.

You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.

You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.

"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.

Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.

When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.

"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."

"He just did."

There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"

You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"

"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."

She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"

Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.

***

He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.

He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.

He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.

When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."

You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.

***

The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.

"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.

After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"

"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.

Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."

You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.

"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.

You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."

You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."

She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."

When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.

***

"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."

He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.

Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.

His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.

When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.

"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."

"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.

But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"

You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.

"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"

His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.

"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."

To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"

He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."

"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."

"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.

"One."

"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."

You nod after a second. "I'll take it."

Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."

You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."

"Love you too, honey."

***

Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.

"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."

You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?

"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.

"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."

You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."

"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."

You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."

He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?"

You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."

He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."

"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."

Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."

His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."

You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."

He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"

"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."

You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."

You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."

His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.

You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.

You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.

As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.

"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."

You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"

You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.

"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."

He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?

You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.

You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.

"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.

Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"

He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.

"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.

"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."

***

Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.

"I can walk!"

"I don't care."

"Dad, come on."

He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."

You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.

"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."

"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.

"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.

"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."

You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"

He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"

You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.

"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."

"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.

Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.

"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."

"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."

"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."

He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.

It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.

"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."

"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."

"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."

"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.

"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."

"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"

"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."

You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.

Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.

You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.

***

It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.

"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"

"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.

"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.

"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"

"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."

Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."

"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"

"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."

She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."

You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."

She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."

"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."

"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."

Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."

He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."

"This would be my brownie."

Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"

Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."

JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"

"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."

"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."

***

Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.

You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.

You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.

As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.

You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.

He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.

When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.

The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.

"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

You flash your eyes at Derek.

The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"

She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."

"A guess."

You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.

She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."

You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."

He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.

"From now on, everything goes through me."

Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"

Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."

He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."

She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.

***

The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.

You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.

"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."

You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?

You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.

"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."

"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."

Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."

The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.

"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"

He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.

'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.

Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."

***

His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.

He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.

He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.

The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?

His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.

The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.

"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"

He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."

He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"

The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."

You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"

He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."

"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."

He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"

"Yeah, just one second."

He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."

You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.

***

Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."

You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."

"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.

Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."

He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"

You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."

You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."

He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.

"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."

You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."

"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."

You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.

***

You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.

You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.

You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.

You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.

"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."

You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"

He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.

"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."

You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."

He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."

He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.

He's your best friend, and you love him.

***

One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.

You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.

Is this my fault?

Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.

I'm not sure I can do this job.

There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.

Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.

"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.

"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.

Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."

Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."

He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."

She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.

"You gotta hold his head up."

"Careful, you're smothering him!"

"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."

Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."

He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."

He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."

***

"What's up, Hotch?"

You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.

"We have a case."

You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"

"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."

"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.

"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.

So much for a full night of rest.

***

Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.

"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."

"Poisoned?" you clarify.

"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."

"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."

Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."

You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."

"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"

This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."

"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."

Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."

You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."

Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."

***

When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.

The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.

When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.

"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"

Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.

You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."

Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.

"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."

He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.

"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.

"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.

Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."

The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"

Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."

You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.

"Do you have kids?"

Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".

The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.

"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."

"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.

He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"

There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.

"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."

His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.

There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."

The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."

There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.

***

You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.

The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.

"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.

His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."

"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.

He nods. "It's over. She knows it."

Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.

"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."

He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.

He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.

Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.

You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.

"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."

You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"

He nods again. "Let's go home."

***

It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.

Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.

Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.

"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"

She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."

Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"

She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.

The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.

She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.

"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."

Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."

You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.

"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."

She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"

She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."

Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"

"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."

Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."

Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.

***

Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"

He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."

"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"

He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"

He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"

You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.

He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."

JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"

"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.

"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.

You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.

"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."

He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."

"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"

He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."

His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."

"The Reaper has started killing again."

***

The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.

You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"

He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."

"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."

You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"

"I may know him better than I've let on."

Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"

"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."

"You said you were called off before you could make one-"

"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."

You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."

He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."

You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.

Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."

***

After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.

"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.

"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."

"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."

He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.

He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."

He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.

"Hotch, what was that?"

He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.

"Was that him?"

He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"

His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."

***

"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."

The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.

Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"

You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."

Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"

"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.

"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.

"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.

When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."

"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."

Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.

He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."

Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"

Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"

Rossi shrugs. "All of them."

You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.

***

George Foyet is the Reaper.

You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.

I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.

His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.

Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."

***

It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.

Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.

This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.

But you don't say it.

***

He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.

You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"

"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."

"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"

This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."

He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."

"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."

"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."

His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."

That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."

***

You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.

Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.

Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.

Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."

He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."

You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.

"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."

You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."

***

Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?

You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.

A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.

"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.

"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"

"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."

"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.

"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."

As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.

"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."

"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.

"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."

She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.

"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."

They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."

She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."

"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."

She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"

You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.

"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."

"You are too."

"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."

You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."

Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."

Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."

Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.

It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.

Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."

It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."

"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."

That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."

It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."

Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.

"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."

Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.

"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."

He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.

The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.

The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."

You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."

As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.

You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.

***

You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.

89 pairs of shoes.

You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.

"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."

You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.

"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."

You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.

It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."

He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."

You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.

"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."

He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."

You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."

His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"

During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.

The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.

"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."

You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.

"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.

You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."

His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."

It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.

Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios (message me to be added!)

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starlightkun · 4 months ago

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⏯ word count: 9.5k ⏯ genre: fluff, established relationship, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, sequel to filler episodes, reader isn’t completely boring anymore! yay!, she’s still figuring it out a little bit but it’s not a full-fledged quarter life crisis anymore, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ warnings: the usual cursing, and reader briefly gets creeped on in a scene but gets out of there pretty quick, and that’s really it! if i missed any please let me know ⏯ extra info: this is the sequel to filler episodes, it cannot be read as a standalone! ⏯ author’s note: guys i almost died writing this they’re so cute 🤧 ⏯ now playing… pluto – xdinary heroes | undercover – a.c.e | injured crow – bears in trees

He didn’t pull away when the kiss broke, affectionately nuzzling his nose with yours again. “Yeah…” he murmured, a content smile on his face. “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“The sappy love songs, all the wars, carving things in trees, the locks on bridges, all of it.”

The excited hum of the crowd was audible from backstage as you helped the band with their final checks before going on.

“Shotaro, your in-ears,” you handed said equipment to the frontman.

“Oh, I was looking for those! Thanks!” He grinned as he took them from you, slipping one in his ear.

“Wonbin, I thought you weren’t going to wear more white shirts after you stained the one from yesterday blue with your sweat,” you reminded the guitarist, fixing a piece of his freshly-dyed dark blue hair that was out of place.

He looked down at his white tank top as if just remembering this, then shrugged. “This was the only clean shirt I had.”

“Laundry. We’re all doing laundry tomorrow,” you declared, looking around for the remaining members. “Where are the other two?”

“We’re here, we’re here,” Sungchan appeared at your side, Eunseok right behind him, tucking his shirt in. “Just had to use the bathroom.”

“Alright, everyone good?” You pointed at all of them, receiving various yeses and thumbs-up in return.

Another crew member called out two minutes before they had to go on, and you started backing away as they grabbed their instruments. “Okay, good luck, have fun, I’ll see you guys after.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” The other three members beamed at you, attentions turning to the stage in front of them.

Sungchan hung back with you for another moment, cupping your cheek with a hand to pull your lips to his. “Thank you, baby.”

“Good luck, Sungchan,” you murmured, giving him one more peck. “I love you.”

“Love you more.” He let you go with a grin.

You emerged from backstage almost directly in the crowd, having to pass through a set of curtains and step over one rope until you were in the packed venue. Feeling a bit bad as always, you tried to squeeze through the people as nicely as you could. A staff member of the venue who was standing up by the stage and facing the crowd eyed you as you got closer and closer, and you held up the lanyard around your neck indicatively. Hanging from the lanyard was a crew member badge for the headliner band. Roses for Eyes hadn’t been able to get any of their own made—both due to how last-minute of an addition they were, and because they didn’t really have any crew or staff of their own, relying pretty much on the headliner’s crew and you—so you had been given a badge from the headliner’s crew to allow you to move freely in the venues.

The venue staff member relaxed and nodded, gesturing between them and the barricade, asking if you needed to get in there. You shook your head, stopping a few people behind barricade and off to the side.

As the guys came out and started their first song, you pulled out your phone to start taking pictures. On top of becoming the de facto tour manager for Roses for Eyes, you had also been in charge of taking videos and pictures of all the performances for their social media. They only had a thirty-minute set, and you always felt the pressure to capture all the best moments from each night.

You were focusing in on Wonbin’s guitar solo when you became aware of a presence over your shoulder. Thinking it was just someone in the crowd trying to get closer, you shuffled forward as best you could while still recording Wonbin.

“Hey.” A guy’s voice was right by your ear, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

The guitar solo was over, and as you switched back into taking pictures, you offered a polite nod to the man next to you in the crowd who had spoken to you. “Hi.”

“They’re good, right?” He was still shout-talking to you over the music.

“Yeah, they’re awesome.” You agreed, catching the perfect moment of Eunseok and Shotaro jamming out together.

“You a fan?”

“Uh-huh. Big fan.”

The lights went down for a dramatic rise back up into the next song, and you pointed your camera at Sungchan, knowing he always went hard on the intro of this one.

“So are you here by yourself?”

“I’m working,” you told him shortly, flashing your badge at him.

He either didn’t get the hint or didn’t care. “Cool, cool. So are you single?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to stop answering, focusing back on your job.

“Come on, what’s—” As soon as his hand grabbed your upper arm, you whipped around to shake him off.

“Fuck. Off.” You glared at him, lowering your phone as you focused on this problem.

“So you were lying. About not being single?”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed back. “Doesn’t matter if I’m single or not.”

He held his hands up. “We got off on the wrong foot. Can I try again?”

“No. Fuck off.”

A group of women who had been off to the side of you must have taken notice of what was going on, as two of them stepped in between you and the man, staring down at him from the top of their very tall platform boots.

“She said fuck off.” One of them spat at him. “We heard her tell you twice.”

“We were just talking.” He looked at you sheepishly, as if expecting you to defend him.

“No, we weren’t.” You retorted.

“So fuck off.” Another woman took a step closer to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He muttered something about bitches as he slunk off into the crowd. You let out a breath of relief as the women swarmed you to check on you.

“Are you okay?” The first woman who had stepped in bent down to ask you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured them. “Thank you, really.”

“Of course!” A third one fixed your jacket for you. “We weren’t going to stand around with that happening right in front of us!”

“Do you want to watch the rest of the concert with us?” The first woman offered. “We’ll keep you tucked in safe right in the middle of us.”

You flashed them an appreciative smile. “If you don’t mind, then please.”

“Oh my god, of course!” They welcomed you into their group, encircling you, and letting you get lost in their fun energy for the night.

At the end of the show, you were sat at the band’s merch table. In addition to being the de facto tour manager and photographer/videographer, you also usually managed the merch table for Roses for Eyes. The headliner had plenty of crew to spare to work it, but you wanted to help however you could, and this was honestly one of your favorite parts. Various members usually came to hang out by the merch table and meet and talk with the concert goers, and you loved hearing all the praise that was showered on the guys. Almost nobody had heard of them before coming to the concerts, but it made your chest puff up with pride at how many people stayed just to tell the guys how much they loved their set.

Roses for Eyes didn’t have a lot of merch. In fact, they had exactly one kind of t-shirt, and CDs of their one and only semi-professionally recorded EP for sale. Which made your job easier, you just had to either hand them a CD, or ask their size in shirt.

“Oh my god, you’re here too!” Your next customers were the women who you had spent almost the whole concert with, their eyes sparkling with recognition and delight at you.

“Yes, I am!” You laughed as one reached out to fix your hair. “I’m everywhere, I swear. What can I get you guys?”

They each got a shirt, and a couple got CDs too. As you ran their cards and accepted their cash, they raved to you about the show.

“You know, I’d never heard of them before this, but they were so good!”

“That’s what everyone says,” you replied with a grin.

“I loved the first song they played, that was like—” She started mimicking the melody, and you recognized it immediately.

“Ah, ‘Lonely as Mars’!” You perked up. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“What’s your favorite song then?”

“Oh, I can’t say.” You grinned. “It’s not released yet…”

They all laughed and giggled at this. One peeked at the track list of the CD she had just bought from you again before looking up at you. “Guess we’ll have to wait until it’s released then, huh?”

“Yes, yes, please keep an eye out!” You couldn’t help it, you were proud of your boyfriend and the rest of your friends.

“Alright, beautiful, we’ll stop holding up your line.” One of them chuckled, giving your cheek a final tweak before the four of them moved over to the short line to chat with the band.

You couldn’t pause on that moment for too long, as more patrons came up to your table.

Once people had finally started trickling out of the venue, and you had no line left in front of either your merch table or to meet the band, you were unsurprised when Sungchan pulled up an extra folding chair next to you.

“You know,” he let out a sigh, scooting right up next to you until your legs were pressed together. “I think we need to completely deck you out in Roses for Eyes merch from head to toe.”

“One, you guys don’t even have that much merch. Two, I think all that would accomplish would be making me looking like a crazed fan.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am your biggest fan,” you acquiesced with a giggle at how serious he looked, squeezing his leg. “But we need security to let me in, you know.”

“What about a shirt with my face on it?”

“I think that’d be even worse.”

“It can say ‘CREW’ on the back or something.”

You laughed again. “I did tell that guy I was working, you know. Which did nothing.”

“I know, baby, I’m not mad at you.” Sungchan put an arm around the back of your chair, leaning in closer to inform you, “I was up on stage wishing I could’ve been kicking his face instead of the bass drum.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t hop off stage just to beat up somebody in the crowd.” You whispered back. “Even if it would’ve been deserved.”

“God, I don’t know if I can take another month of hearing you get hit on from right next to me.” He was presumably referencing times like now, with you at the merch table and him nearby talking to patrons.

“You think I like hearing people compliment your tattoos as an excuse to feel up your arms?”

“I don’t let them!” He protested. “And sometimes they do actually like my tattoos!”

“I know, Sungchan,” you snickered. “It’s hard being the hottest couple ever, isn’t it?”

“God truly gives his toughest battles to his sexiest soldiers,” Sungchan joked back, letting his arm drop down to your waist.

“Hey, on the bright side, tomorrow is the Venue:Hell show,” you reminded him. “I’ll have Jeno and Jaemin and my other two much less sturdy friends there. Not to mention Anton, Sohee, and Seunghan.”

He didn’t seem much happier about this, letting out a little grumble, “Mmm, alright.”

You looked around at the nearly empty venue, the only fans left chatting with a couple of the members from the headlining band by their table. “Do you think we can shut it down for the night?”

“Yeah, I think you’ve done plenty, baby.” He snuck a quick kiss to your temple. “So thankful for you.”

Your hometown was only a short, three-hour drive from the previous venue, so Roses for Eyes made the very cost-effective decision to drive straight there after the show to crash at the band’s apartment for the night instead of getting a hotel in the city right next-door. All of you let out groans of both relief and exhaustion when you finally opened the front door to their apartment. Luggage was immediately dropped on the floor of the living room as muttered ‘goodnight’s were lazily tossed over shoulders and everyone disappeared into their own rooms. After the five of you had been sharing two (or sometimes one) hotel rooms every night and a van every day for the past month, you knew everyone was glad to have some space again. You dropped onto Sungchan’s bed, a subtle happiness spreading out through you at being in the familiar surroundings again.

Sungchan flopped down pretty much on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he wrapped his arms around you tight.

“Night, baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then left his face there, nuzzling his nose against your cheekbone. “Love you so much.”

“Mm, night, Sungchan.” You pulled one of his hands up to drop a peck on the back of his fingers. “Love you so much… even more…”

In the morning, you woke up still underneath Sungchan, and smiled to yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut. You fell asleep again for who knows how long, being woken up by gentle kisses being peppered all over your cheek.

Shifting a little bit, you squinted one eye open to offer Sungchan a sleepy smile. “Morning.”

“Did I wake you up?” He whispered. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay, Sungchan,” you chuckled softly. “It was a great way to wake up.”

“I just woke up and saw you and I was thinking about how much I love and appreciate you,” he hummed, pressing two more kisses to your face. “Love you so much, and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for us, you know.”

“I was serious about being your biggest fan.”

“I know. But I mean, we would’ve already crashed and burned so many times on this tour without you. And you stepping up not only to manage, but take photos and run our merch table? You didn’t have to do any of that. I asked you to come with because I couldn’t stand the thought of going two months without you. Not because we needed a crew member.”

“But you did need a crew member. Several, actually,” you replied humorously. “And I wasn’t going to just tag along and do nothing. Even if you had a manager and social media person and a fully staffed merch table already, I would’ve found something.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “God, I’m so in love with you. Love you so, so much I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Alright, well don’t do that,” you hummed, shifting onto your back and carding your fingers through his hair. You pulled him up to give him a kiss on the lips, laughing into his mouth when he dropped his full body weight back onto you again. “I love you too, Sungs. You big, clingy snugglemonster of a guy.”

“Your guy.”

“Yeah, you are.”

With your second load of laundry in the dryer, you hauled the stuff you’d just pulled out of the dryer into Sungchan’s room, dropping it onto his bed to start folding it. It’d all be going right back into your suitcases, but it was nice not having to do this in a laundromat.

You hadn’t heard a peep from the other three all morning, and as far as you knew, they were still passed out. Not that they were really morning people under normal circumstances anyway, but you figured they deserved to sleep in for today. If they weren’t up by the time Sungchan came back with lunch for everyone, you’d probably wake them up. After all, they had a show tonight, and you would need to be back on the road tomorrow morning.

Sungchan’s bedroom door opened again, your boyfriend poking his head in. “Food’s here.”

“Can you help me finish folding all this first?” You requested, and he obliged immediately, joining you by the mattress and picking up a t-shirt. “We should probably wake everyone else up so they can eat before the show.”

Suddenly, Sungchan started chuckling as he grabbed the next article of clothing to start folding.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how… normal this is.” He pointed between you, him, and the laundry. “After being on the road for a month, it’s weird. I love it, I love not being cooped up in hotel rooms with everyone and having to smell-test my clothes as I’m rushing to get changed to go on stage but—” He laughed again. “I don’t know, it’s crazy how I love even stupid little chores like laundry with you.”

“Ah, Sungchan.” You tossed aside the socks you had just paired up, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “You’re going to make me explode if you keep saying stuff like that.”

“Explode because you love me so much, I presume?” His grin was audible in his voice as he kept moving around to fold the rest of the laundry.

You just nodded against his back, continuing to hold him.

“Are we going to eat lunch like this?” He asked, and that’s when you realized he had finished up the last few garments.

You let out a dramatic sigh, taking your arms back. “I guess not.”

“You want to wake up Taro and Eunseok while I get Wonbin?”

Knowing that he was willingly taking the short end of the stick, you agreed easily. “Sure.”

You knocked on Shotaro’s door first, waiting for a few seconds before knocking again after you got no response. This time, you heard a garbled ‘Eh?’ from inside.

“Taro? You up?” You called out.

He groaned, and you could hear his feet as he shuffled over to open his door. The frontman rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Mm, hey. What time is it?”

“Lunchtime,” you informed him. “Good morning.”

“Oh, morning.” He grunted and stretched. “I’ll help you get Eunseok up.”

The two of you approached the bassist’s door together, and on the other side of the apartment, you could hear Sungchan’s unsuccessful attempts to wake Wonbin. Shotaro attempted very loud banging on the door once, and when he inevitably got no response, just threw it open. It was pitch black in the room thanks to Eunseok’s blackout curtains. You hung back by the doorway as Shotaro flicked the lights on then grabbed his bandmate’s shoulders.

Eunseok swore loudly, throwing an elbow out towards Shotaro as he rolled over and tried to push his face into his pillow.

“Nope!” Shotaro shook his shoulders again. “Come on, Eunseok! Wakey wakey! Good morning! Food! We have food! And if you don’t come eat it now, we’ll eat it all without you.”

Eunseok let out a long, slow sigh before sitting up straight in his bed. He pushed hair out of his face as he glowered at Shotaro. “If there’s no food, I’m going to cut your guitar strings one by one with kitchen shears while you watch.”

“Good morning, Eunseok,” you added with a snicker. He wordlessly flipped you off. You returned the gesture.

The three of you were already in the kitchen by the time Sungchan came back, practically dragging a still-snoozing Wonbin with him. Sungchan had a harrowed look on his face, while the guitarist yawned and nuzzled his cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Glad you could join us, sleepy,” you cooed, fixing Wonbin’s bedhead.

Shotaro and Eunseok finished making their plates and took them into the living room to eat—the guys had no dining table. You immediately started fixing two more plates of food in addition to your own, for Sungchan and Wonbin. Carefully balancing the three plates you brought them out to the living room as well, Sungchan dragging Wonbin behind you. He deposited Wonbin onto the couch next to Shotaro, and you set his plate and utensil down on the coffee table in front of him. Shotaro immediately took over prodding and waking Wonbin up to start eating, letting you and Sungchan squeeze into the armchair together with your food.

Roses for Eyes were doing their soundcheck that evening when you felt your phone start buzzing in your pocket. Checking it quickly, you saw that it was Jaemin, and stepped away to take the call.

“Hey!” You greeted him brightly, plugging your other ear to be able to hear him better. “Are you guys here?”

“Yeah, we can’t figure out which door to use?” He said, and in the background, you could hear the distant voices of Donghyuck and Renjun bickering. “And we don’t want to get the cops called on us or anything.”

“That wouldn’t happen, promise,” you snorted. “Places like this aren’t particularly fond of cops. Anyway, I’ll come get you! Are you by the front?”

“If the front is an unmarked rusted metal door, then yes.”

“Okay! Wait there!” You hung up.

Stepping back into the band’s eyeline, you lifted a hand to get their attention. They didn’t stop playing, but a couple of the members looked at you indicatively. You jerked a thumb at the exit and mouthed ‘be right back.’ Sungchan nodded, and Shotaro, who had been holding his mic with two hands anyway, gave you a thumbs-up.

Jogging through the venue, you opened the front door, squinting against the bright light of the sun for a moment. It was easy to find your friends, as Renjun presently had an arm around Donghyuck’s neck and Jaemin and Jeno watched on like they were two dads grilling at a cookout.

“Hey, guys!” You called out, running up to them.

“Y/N!” Jaemin whipped around, bright smile on his face as he went to hug you. “Oh my god, hey! You’re okay!”

“Hi, Jaem,” you laughed, hugging him back just as forcefully. “I didn’t go off to war, you know.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just ran off with my dirtbag boyfriend,” you couldn’t help but tease him, feeling as he scoffed, and perfectly imagining the eyeroll that came with it.

“Yeah, you haven’t let that one go, huh?”

“I’m afraid the guys are going to get matching shirts at this point.”

“I didn’t even call him your dirtbag boyfriend, I’m pretty sure I said—”

“Alright, you’re hogging her and now you’re nagging her,” Jeno interrupted, grabbing Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin sighed and patted your head fondly as he let you go.

“Hey,” Jeno was beaming too as he grabbed you for a hug next.

“Hey, Jeno.” You squeezed him tight. “Thanks for the save, as always.”

“We used to be ‘the guys,’ you know?” Renjun had let Donghyuck go, and lodged his own teasing complaint as he gave you a brief hug. “Now it’s them?”

“I’m staying out of this one,” you announced, holding your hands up in surrender. “You all were my first ‘the guys,’ they’re my ‘the guys’ I’m around all the time right now, and Sungchan is, well, we all know—”

“Your dirtbag boyfriend!” Your friends said in unison, even Jaemin.

Renjun peered at your face inquisitively then, declaring, “You’re different.”

“What?” You tilted your head, absent-mindedly patting Donghyuck’s back in a one-armed hug.

“He’s right,” Hyuck agreed. “You’re not our same boring Y/N anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” you snorted. “Come on, you guys can catch the rest of their soundcheck.”

Walking back into the venue with the other four in tow, you could already tell which song they were playing just from the drum beat that reverberated up the stairs that you were descending. The air became noticeably cooler as you went underground.

“Ooh, you guys are lucky,” you told your friends over your shoulder. “They’re playing one that isn’t released yet. It’s my favorite.”

You emerged back to where the main stage was, staying put towards the back as the band kept playing. Your foot tapped along to the beat, and you hummed along to the melody under your breath as Wonbin started singing first. Your eyes strayed from the band over to your friends’ faces every so often, however, anxious to see if they were enjoying it at all. You could still remember clearly the only other time they’d seen Roses for Eyes perform, and how well that went. They were here to show their support for you as your friends, not because they actually liked your boyfriend’s band, you were aware of that.

Jeno was bobbing his head along to the music, Renjun didn’t seem to be outright put off by it this time, but it was Jaemin and Donghyuck that concerned you. Their heads were together as they seemed to be quietly talking, but they were too far away for you to distinguish anything they were saying.

An errant sound in the song made you snap your head back over towards the stage, and you could tell that the rest of the members had noticed it as well, all of them looking at Sungchan for a second as they continued performing. As the song finished, you walked up towards the stage, concerned frown on your face as you looked up at your boyfriend.

“You alright, Sungchan?” You questioned. “You came in early for the last verse and hit the snare instead of the toms…”

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay,” he reassured you, pushing some hair off his forehead that had stuck there. “Just got distracted and accidentally started doing the last verse for Lonely as Mars instead.”

“Mm, alright.” You sighed. “Drink some water. All of you! I’m going to ask them to turn the AC up in here, you guys are dripping already and there isn’t even a crowd yet.”

A chorus of ‘thanks, Y/N’s followed you as you turned from the stage. Your friends were still standing uncertainly by the back wall, and you detoured over to them for a second.

“Sorry, can you guys wait here a second?” You requested. “I have to talk to the venue staff, it’ll just be a minute. I’ll also grab you a few VIP passes or something.”

When you returned, with the AC successfully nudged down a few degrees and four of the headliner’s VIP passes in hand, you saw that your friends had approached the stage, and were chatting with the band. Shotaro was sat on the edge of the stage, tuning his guitar, as Eunseok stood behind him, Wonbin was splayed out on his back on the stage, and Sungchan was still sat at his kit, miming drumming so as to not distract the others. His brow was furrowed with concentration as he ran through a pattern, not paying mind to anybody else.

“Here you go,” you smiled, handing out the VIP passes to all your friends. You then turned to the band to announce, “It should start getting much colder in here soon.”

Wonbin just lifted a thumbs-up in response before flopping his arm back onto the ground next to him.

“Thanks, Y/N!” Shotaro beamed. He turned to your friends again, “Like I was saying, we don’t know what we would’ve done without her. I don’t know how we managed before her, honestly.”

“You guys were doing just fine.” You shook your head. “You got invited on this tour all on your own, I had nothing to do with that, remember?”

“Dumb luck,” Eunseok snorted. “Their first opener’s vocalist broke his leg.”

“But if you guys hadn’t already put in the work yourselves, and weren’t awesome, they wouldn’t have asked you to fill in.”

“Alright, maybe you have a point,” Shotaro grinned.

Sungchan had finished what he was doing, and lumbered over to the edge of the stage, hopping down to stand next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him. “You done already?”

“Seemed like everybody else was taking a break.” He gestured to the rest of his bandmates.

“Because you said you needed to run your solo in ‘Split Seconds’ again on your own,” Eunseok retorted.

Sungchan pointedly ignored him, turning to your friends instead, giving them all good-natured nods. “Good to see you guys again. Glad you could make it out.”

“Yeah man, you too,” Jeno gave him a smile back.

“Of course, thanks uh, for inviting us out here…” Jaemin looked around the underground venue that you all were in, having a hard time keeping the uncertainty from his face, if he was even trying.

“Yeah, that was really convincing,” you hissed, pinching his arm.

“Ow!” His hand flew to rub the spot that you had just wounded, a pout coming to his face.

“So, where will the safest place in the crowd be?” Renjun asked the band, gesturing to the empty area behind you all.

The band exchanged confused looks. You clarified, “They don’t want to be in the mosh pit.”

They let out unanimous ‘ohh’s, and Shotaro took over explaining.

“A pit usually forms in the center… front-ish.” He waved his hand over a large swath of the venue. “So if you stay off to the sides, you should be fine.”

“I’m usually up by the barricades and off to the side, since I’m taking photos and stuff,” you added.

“Honestly, you should try it,” Eunseok suggested. “One of the rules of a mosh pit is to look out for the other moshers. You shouldn’t get trampled or anything.”

Renjun shot a look at Donghyuck, who already had a mischievous grin on his face. “Lee Donghyuck, if you shove me into a mosh pit, so help me, I’m dragging you in with me.”

The other guys snickered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar bickering of your friends.

Checking your phone for the time, you then nudged Sungchan’s side and started shooing the rest of the band back towards the stage. “Alright, break’s over. You guys need to finish your soundcheck so we can hand the stage over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eunseok saluted you as Shotaro hopped back to his feet and both of them started yanking Wonbin up.

Sungchan kissed your temple and squeezed your shoulder in a wordless ‘thanks’ and ‘be back soon’ before effortlessly climbing back on stage. You stepped back to stand with your friends as the band counted off for their next song.

“Shotaro said that you’re not just tagging along, you’re like, doing everything for them?” Jaemin lowered his voice as much as he could to keep the conversation between the two of you, but still be heard over the music. “Like, tour manager, running their merch table, photos and videos…”

“Huh?” You looked over at him from where you were watching Sungchan closely to see if he had gotten out of his funk from earlier. “Oh, yeah, yeah. They needed some help, it’s not like I was really doing anything else.”

“I thought you might at least pitch in like doing merch or something, but…”

“But what?”

“Do you think you’ll keep doing this? When you get back? Being their manager or whatever?” Your friend sounded genuinely curious. “They all said they really rely on you.”

The expression fell off your face as you blinked at him, having never genuinely considered this. You frowned and tilted your head. “I… don’t think so.”

“Why not?” After a beat, he half-joked, “Pay’s not great?”

You gave him a light-hearted eyeroll at that. “Not only are they covering my travel and lodging expenses, but they’re insisting on giving me a cut of the tour and merch proceeds, too. Whatever we actually end up making, if anything.”

“Not bad.”

“I mean, I filled in now because they needed someone now. But, I just don’t think that’d be good for me and Sungchan,” you admitted. “Pitching in at their merch table or even backstage every once in a while is one thing, but working together that closely and dating… I don’t think it’d be good to do for the long-term. You know?”

Jaemin nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. So you’ll be looking for a job when you get back?”

“Yeah, I’ll have to find something.” You shrugged. “Eventually.”

All of you were hanging out in the band’s area backstage when a venue staff member tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to her inquisitively, stepping away from the conversation to hear her properly.

She sighed and shook her head. “There’s three guys at the front claiming they’re with you all. They’re really insistent. Anton, Seunghan, and Sohee?”

The look on her face made it clear that she didn’t believe them, and she was expecting this whole errand to be a waste of her time.

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” You replied brightly. “Where are they? I’ll bring them in.”

“Front door.”

“Thanks!” You darted off through the building. Grabbing three more passes from the headliner’s crew first, you then poked your head out the front door.

A line had begun forming already, and off to the side were your three friends, waiting with a rather unamused-looking venue staffer. You walked over, greeting the staff member politely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Roses for Eyes’ crew.” You showed him your badge. “Thanks for letting us know. They’re good to come in.”

You were handing the guys their own lanyards as you spoke, and the employee glanced over you one more time before shrugging.

“Cool. You got it from here?” He asked.

“Yep. Thanks again.” You flashed him a smile before starting back towards the door. Addressing your friends over your shoulder, you added, “Hi, by the way. You guys weren’t giving them trouble, were you?”

“What? Us?” Sohee replied with mock offense. “Never!”

“Did you get a haircut or something, Y/N?” Seunghan asked suddenly.

“Huh?” You looked back at him. “No, my hair’s the same.”

“Maybe it’s the clothes,” Anton suggested. “I think is the first time we haven’t seen you in a pantsuit.”

You scoffed. “It wasn’t growing from my skin, you know.”

“Yeah, we know that now.”

“They’re right,” Sohee agreed. “Something’s different.”

“You think so?” You looked down at yourself, furrowing your brow thoughtfully. “That’s what my friends said too…”

“Did you dye your hair?” Seunghan was apparently still stuck on your hair. “Like, a different shade of the same color?”

“No, I didn’t change my hair.” You shook your head. “You guys are late, by the way. Completely missed both bands’ soundcheck.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Anton teased, making the other two snicker.

You turned around to grab his ear. “Not your mom, you little punk. Take out your mommy issues on some other girl.”

“Ow! Ow!” He whined. “Okay, fine, you’re way more like an aggressive older sister anyway.”

Sohee and Seunghan were still laughing at Anton, who cradled his wounded ear as the three of you reentered Roses for Eyes’ green room. It hadn’t been very spacious before, already rather cozy with the band, you and your friends, now a bit cramped with the addition of the other three.

“They’re finally here!” You announced loudly as you opened the door.

The band’s faces immediately lit up at seeing their friends again, welcoming them in.

“Your girlfriend’s a bully, Sungchan.” Anton apparently wanted to continue your hallway bickering.

“Whatever it was, you probably deserved it,” Sungchan replied without hesitation, putting him in a headlock and messing up his hair for good measure.

Packed into the crowd, with your friends all around you and Roses for Eyes’ music coming through the speakers by your head so loud that you could feel it rattling your ribcage, you couldn’t picture anywhere else you’d rather be in that moment. The crowd was unbelievably energetic, feeding right back into the guys’ performance, and you eagerly yelled back the lyrics to them, one of the few who did, but entirely uncaring of that fact as every time you caught your boyfriend’s eye, or one of your friends’ gazes up on stage, they would give you the wildest grin and continue singing along with you.

For their part, your friends did look like they were having fun. They danced with you, clapped and cheered between songs, and followed your lead on chants. Anton, Sohee, and Seunghan were of course having a blast, this was already their scene, and they broke away from you to join in on the mosh pit when it formed. They even managed to convince Donghyuck to come along, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the four of them disappear into the throng.

Sungchan had taken you aside before the show and told you to not worry about pictures or videos tonight, to just have fun with your friends. And you were, fully immersing yourself in the moment.

You excitedly hit the closest person’s arm—Jaemin—as the vocals stopped and tension rose in the song, knowing what was coming next. “Ahhh! Listen! Listen! Here!”

It was one of Sungchan’s drum solos, and you couldn’t hide your pride, gripping Jaemin’s arm maybe a little too hard as you jumped and cheered. As it finished out and the other instruments joined back in, you let out one last yell of Sungchan’s name, and he threw his head back to shake his hair out of his face, shooting you a grin and a wink.

“Y/N!” Jaemin yelled from next to you.

“Yeah?” You replied just as loud, still half-watching the performance.

“He’s really good, but I think you’re going to make my arm bleed!”

“Shit! Sorry!” You let go of where you had been unintentionally digging your nails into his forearm in your elation, and he rubbed his other hand over the skin.

“It’s okay.” He patted your back, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you. “I’m having fun.”

“Good!” You beamed, giving his arm a kinder squeeze this time.

After the concert, the others all went back to Anton’s place to drink and continue catching up—you again were surprised when your four friends accepted the invitation that had been extended to them. But Sungchan waved them off, saying he was worn out from the show.

Since the others had taken the van, you and Sungchan were left to walk home, which you didn’t mind, their apartment was just a fifteen-minute walk from Venue:Hell, and the night was cool and clear. Your path took you along the riverfront, and you pulled on Sungchan’s hand to stop at the railing overlooking the water. The lights shimmered along the dark, rippling surface of the water, and you took a deep breath of the crisp air.

Sungchan pecked your temple, letting out a sigh against your head before letting go of your hand and moving to sit down on a nearby bench. He let out a deep-held groan as he lowered himself to sit, resting his elbows on his knees.

You turned around, leaning back against the railing to watch him. “Do you want to go straight home? I know you said you were tired…”

“No, it’s okay, baby. It’s nice out here,” he reassured you, and his tone didn’t make you think he was lying about that, but there was still something that was bothering you.

“Is something wrong, Sungs?” You questioned. “You’ve been… off since soundcheck.”

“It’s being back home, made me realize that it’s going to be over.”

“Aw, you’ll go on tour again.” You pushed off the railing to close the space between you two, cradling his head to you and kissing his hair. “I know you will. You guys are only going to do bigger and better things.”

“Thanks, baby.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against your middle. “But that’s not what I was talking about. I meant being with you all day every day, getting to see you be our badass manager and stuff.”

“Ah, Sungchan…” You cooed again, rubbing his back. “I’m going to miss this too. I think this was really good for us, being able to spend time together like this, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m so happy that you invited me to come with you, that I’ve been able to really see what you do and do this incredible thing with you, even if it kind of terrified me at first. But I don’t think that working together like this all the time would be sustainable for our relationship long-term.”

He let out a loud, drawn-out sigh. “Yeah… You’re right. You’re always right.”

“So you keep saying,” you replied humorously. Your voice turned soft and serious again as you added, “I’ll always be there supporting you guys; don’t think I’m going to stop being your biggest fan. But I don’t want to risk this in the process.”

“Neither do I.” He kissed your stomach through your shirt, making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sungs.” You kissed his head again. “And tonight also made me realize something else too.”

“What’s that?”

“As much as I’ve loved helping you guys out and being able to support you from behind the scenes, and I’m looking forward to spending the second half of the tour doing that… I also missed being able to just cut loose with the rest of the crowd and support you like that too.”

Sungchan looked up at you, a fond smile coming to his face. “Yeah, I loved seeing you have so much fun tonight. I want you to have the time of your life at every one of our shows that you’re at, not be working.”

“Then after this tour…” You pecked his nose. “I quit.”

He was smirking as he teased back, “Not if I fire you first.”

You couldn’t help yourself, cupping his cheek and kissing him. Sungchan eagerly kissed you back as one of his hands went under the hem your shirt, fingers on the skin of your waist as he pulled you even tighter to him.

You broke the kiss with another giggle, squirming and grabbing his hand that was under your top. “Your fingers are cold, Sungs.”

He didn’t seem offended by the rebuff at all, watching you fondly as you sandwiched his one large, cold hand between your own two slightly warmer hands in a futile attempt to warm it up. “Hey, have we done your something new yet today? We’re back home, it’s not a new city.”

You let go of his hand to check the time on your phone. “It’s almost one in the morning…”

“It’s not tomorrow yet until we’ve gone to sleep.”

“Alright,” you chuckled. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s a surprise.” He jumped to his feet and offered you his hand with a grin.

You took it without hesitation, letting him pull you down the empty sidewalks at a near-run. The two of you finally skidded to a stop at the back of a building you’d never seen before in your life.

Sungchan tested the door handle, chuckling when it opened easily. “He still leaves it unlocked.”

You didn’t question where you were, who Sungchan was talking about, or if you were allowed to be here as you followed him in, the door slipping shut behind you. You ended up in some kind of stairwell, and your boyfriend started taking you up. A few yellowed lights dimly lit the concrete stairs under your feet, flickering every so often, but affording just enough visibility that you didn’t think you’d trip and face-plant. You passed by doors that seemed to lead to the actual inside of the building, only marked with numbers indicating their floors. You reached the top of the stairs after floor four. There was another door, this one marked ‘ROOF ACCESS – KEEP CLOSED’ and propped open with what looked like a broken mop handle.

Sungchan pushed the door open without hesitation, leading you right onto the roof. While the building you were on top of wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, it was taller than the others in its immediate vicinity, affording an unobstructed view of the city lights at night, glittering and shimmering all around you. The air was cool on your cheek, but you were kept warm by Sungchan’s jacket. Leaning against the railing that went around the entire roof, you took your eyes off the view and looked up at Sungchan.

“This is great, Sungchan,” you said, feeling the persistent smile on your lips that was there whenever you were with him.

“Hold on.” He slipped off his backpack, and you watched with interest as he rooted around in it before bringing out a box. It was a box of hand sparklers, these ones in particular being familiar to you as the same ones you all had gotten a few stops ago to celebrate Shotaro’s birthday.

“I thought we used all of them,” you accepted them from him as he fetched a lighter from the bag before dropping it on the ground.

“Eunseok found one more box rummaging through a box of cables earlier.”

“So you stole them.”

“So I stole them, yeah.”

You took out one sparkler for yourself, and handed another to Sungchan. He lit yours first, the firework immediately sparking in front of you. A giggle bubbled out of you as you held the sparkler out in front of you, watching it until it fizzed out. Getting another two and turning to Sungchan for him to light, you realized he hadn’t even used his first one yet, his gaze resting on you.

“Hey, you didn’t light yours,” you nudged him.

“I was watching you, baby,” he admitted freely, grabbing you by the waist to kiss your forehead. “Trying to remember that forever.”

You shoved the other sparklers haphazardly into his hand before wrapping both your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. He chuckled, rubbing your back. You could feel the curve of his smile where his cheek rested against your temple. His hand left your back before you heard his lighter click and the familiar sizzle of the sparkler again. You turned your head just enough to peek at it over your shoulder, seeing that he was being careful to hold it as far out away from you as his long arms would allow.

When it went out, you turned yourself fully around in his arms, leaning back against him. He playfully pushed you forward with his body until the two of you were both leaning against the railing on your elbows, Sungchan caging you in with his arms and hooking his chin over your shoulder to see around you to light your next pair of sparklers.

You moved to draw a star in the air with yours this time, and Sungchan spiraled his around until they both went out. On your next ones, you held yours still as he seemed focused on writing his name. His went out a second before yours, and you laughed victoriously.

“I win!” You declared, holding your still smoldering sparkler.

“Oh, we’re playing the game now?”

“Mm-hm,” you confirmed. “Didn’t you hear my telepathic message?”

“Missed that one, sorry, baby,” he snickered, giving you a sweet kiss. “But I’d never forget your prize.”

Both of you held your respective sparkler still this time, watching the tiny pops and miniature explosions as they burned through. Sungchan’s went out right after yours, and you let out a huff as he waved his burned stick in the air.

“I won.” He didn’t cheer very loudly, with his mouth right next to your ear.

You turned your head, nose bumping into his for a moment, making the both of you let out a synchronized breathy giggle. Pressing your lips to his, you let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into him even further—if that were even possible. He moved his mouth against yours as if he hadn’t just kissed you a few moments before, teeth and tongue eagerly joining too.

He didn’t pull away when the kiss broke, affectionately nuzzling his nose with yours again. “Yeah…” he murmured, a content smile on his face. “I get it.”

“Get what?” You asked quietly, searching his eyes curiously.

“The sappy love songs, all the wars, carving things in trees, the locks on bridges, all of it.”

You pushed your forehead against his, unable to do much more past the insurmountable feeling of your heart about to explode. “That almost sounds like the start of a sappy love song right there, Sungs.”

“You think?”

“Sappy love songs, all the men who went to war, locks on bridges, all the tree barks carved with hearts,” you mused. “I’m no songwriter, but I think you can pull some rhymes out of that.”

He was grinning now. “And I promise the next time you hear it, it will be one entire sappy love song unto itself. All about you, baby.”

“Gah!” You clutched at your heart as you twisted enough to bury your face in his neck. “If I don’t die of an exploded heart before then.”

“I won’t let you,” Sungchan growled playfully, rubbing your back. “You’re stuck with me. We haven’t even done all that stuff yet.”

“Is going to war for me is on that to-do list?”

“Duh. Now who’s missing our telepathic messages?”

You laughed. “That’ll be a ‘something new’ for the history books.”

At the second to last stop of the tour, you had caught brief respite in a narrow spot backstage behind the curtains, careful to stay out of the way of the other crew members bustling about. Roses for Eyes were all either changing, eating, or otherwise hanging out before the show began, and you were in a rare moment of not putting out a fire or looking for smoke before one began.

“Y/N?” A voice that you’d only heard over loudspeaker announcements or in addresses to the entire crew came accompanied by a gentle tap to your shoulder. You turned to see the tour manager for the headliner next to you, snakebites spreading with the wide grin she was giving you.

“Yes, is there something I can assist with?” You stood up straight and at attention. She was usually so busy coordinating literally everyone on the tour that you’d never even had the opportunity to introduce yourself and talk to her one-on-one like this, surprised that she even knew your name.

She offered you one of the two sweating water bottles in her hand as she flipped up the mic on her headset. “Nayoung. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

“No, but I understand, you’ve been very busy.” You accepted the bottle with a thankful head nod.

“So have you.”

You were once again amazed that she had apparently also taken note of any of what you were doing this whole time. Honestly, you were worried about being a nuisance—a band member’s entitled girlfriend tagging along on the tour, not even lifting a finger to help, and just making the entire crew’s lives harder sounded like a pretty plausible issue for her and her staff to have faced before.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head again.

“You seem like you liked it, you picked it all up really quick after being thrown in the deep end, you know.” She cracked her own bottle cap before lifting the drink to her pitch-black painted lips.

“I’ve really loved it all, actually. Not just supporting the guys, but the work itself, surprisingly enough,” you beamed fondly as you twisted your water open. “It’s totally different from what I used to do, so it’s been really awesome learning about it all. Your staff is incredible, by the way, they’ve been so patient with me whenever I’ve had questions and helping us out when we need an extra extra hand. Really, you guys have been fantastic, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Nayoung lifted a dark eyebrow curiously. “So what’s this I hear about you quitting after the tour then? You and Sungchan didn’t… did you?”

“Oh, no no no,” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “The opposite, actually. We agreed that working this close together isn’t a good long-term plan for us. But it was a good experience, and I’ll figure out a way to put it on my résumé.”

“Résumé,” she repeated with mild interest, giving you an avenue to keep talking.

“Yeah, better than just saying I was unemployed for two months when interviewers ask,” you chuckled. “Not looking forward to breaking out the pantsuits again when we get back, though.”

“Who says you have to?” She asked. “You’ve been exposed to jobs outside of an office, you know there’s other options. Did you like your old sort of job so much, despite your apparent dislike for the uniform?”

You faltered for a second in what had so far been a pretty light-hearted conversation on your end, your easy-going smile slowly dropping off your features as you became overcome with confusion. “I guess… that’s what I’ve always done. I know I’m okay at it, I can get a job like that again.”

“But you don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

You looked down at your feet as you took a thoughtful sip of your water. “You’re right. I’ve… I didn’t even think of that. Thanks, Nayoung.”

“And once you polish up that résumé, send it my way, hm?”

You almost did a spit-take on her, covering your mouth as you coughed and choked down the water in your mouth. “Wait, seriously?”

“My whole crew’s loved you since day 1. I’ve kept my eye on you, and like I said, I can tell you’ve really taken to all of this. You’ve pretty much been informally interviewing for two months already. I just need the résumé.”

“Absolutely!”

She took out a business card for the event and tour management company, this one with her own number and email on it and handed it to you. “Here, when you’re ready. We do all sorts of local stuff too, by the way, we’re not just on the road year-round. There’s a lot of planning that comes before that part.”

You held the card with two hands, well aware that your eyes were shining at her. “That sounds perfect, actually. I will totally send my stuff to you. Thank you!”

“Look forward to hearing from you, then.” She gave you one last grin before snapping the mic back down into place on her headset and started off in another direction with purpose in her steps, already talking to someone else over the mic.

Sungchan found you still rooted to that same spot, looking down at the business card in your hands. He hesitantly grabbed your elbow, startling you from your happy trance.

“Hey, what you got there?” He peered over your shoulder at it curiously.

“Nayoung asked for my résumé,” you told him brightly, practically shoving the card in his face to show him.

He jerked his head back to actually read the writing, a big smile coming to his face as well as he held a hand up for you to high-five. “Congrats, baby!”

You hit his hand hard before throwing your arms around his neck, excitedly bouncing up and down even as you had a vice-like grip around him. He just laughed and hugged you back, doing a small spin with you that the narrow space behind the curtain would allow.

“We’ll just have to make sure all your future acts knows that you were our badass tour manager first,” he teased, smirking as he cradled the back of your head to kiss you.

You pressed your lips to his once, twice more before pulling away with the same wide grin on your face as before. “Oh of course. And hopefully one day, they won’t ask me who that is when I say that.”

His jaw dropped in mock offense as you went to give him another kiss on the cheek in apology, despite your giggles. He just scoffed and pinched your side, making you squeal. “Rude.”

“I’m kidding, Sungs, you know I’m kidding,” you leaned against him affectionately. “Like I keep telling you, you guys are only going to do bigger and better things. I’m going to be the one bragging that I was your first tour manager.”

“Pretty sure you have something even better to brag about,” he reminded you, and you could feel him practically puffing out his chest with pride. “But I’ll take it.”

As you were about to open your mouth to continue your teasing banter by acting confused about what he could possibly mean, something suddenly occurred to you. It didn’t seem like Sungchan had just stumbled across you backstage, or was even looking for you just because he wanted to see you—he had seemed to be on a mission when he found you. You pulled back enough to look up at him with a knowing frown.

“Did you need something, Sungs?” You questioned.

“I didn’t need anything but to see my beautiful, awesome girlfriend.” He put a defensive hand over his chest, then added, “But Shotaro lost his in-ears again.”

“Of course,” you sighed, beginning to detangle yourself from his grasp. “One more night of this, huh?”

⤷ masterlist

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