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glytchfic · 3 years

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We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting.

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems.

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

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‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.

#we started as a spark #part 2 #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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Hooked

I cannot stop thinking about!!! Tendou in the desert. Mainly because I went for a walk and found a bunch of creepy stuff, and Tendou would fit right into the creepy-desert-aesthetic. (also..... he’d be the type to have a meth trailer out in the middle of nowhere lol)

(What to expect - bad writing, a dead body, Tendou being weird. No NSFW)

He’s just absolutely batshit crazy. There’s no explanation for his actions.

Like you go for a walk in the mountains, intent on seeing a beautiful, iconic desert sunset, skies dyed pink, purple, orange and red.

It gets dark faster than you anticipated though, and you’re left trying to stumble back to your car in the pitch black night, temperature quickly dropping.

And of course, you aren’t prepared at all. It’s the desert, it isn’t supposed to get cold. So you’re shivering, freezing, skin going numb, starting to feel a bit sluggish as you wonder how the fuck it’s so fucking cold.

There’s a light off in the distance, maybe your car? Had you left the light on?

Stumbling closer, tripping over rocks and trying to avoid cactus, you try to focus on the light, on the outline. It almost looks too high to be your car.

Then you hit the dirt, foot twisting over a rock, causing you to crash onto your side, landing your hip directly onto a cactus. You screech at the stinging pain that stabs into your hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurts to stand up, and you can’t even assess the damage done, because it’s dark and as soon as you try to feel your hip, sharp spines make you cry out, pulling your hand back.

All that’s left for you to do is cry as you make your way towards the light, hoping, praying it’s your car.

As you limp closer, tears dripping down your face at the pain of the cactus spines, the cold, your now-sore ankle, you quickly discern that the light’s source comes from a house.

Specifically, a trailer.

There’s junk everywhere, piles of it, and you trip over a few stray.... well, you can’t really make out what it is, with how dark it is. But you make it to the door.

And yeah, this is super creepy. You’re out in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark, with no flashlight, no jacket. You’re vulnerable, but you’re so freaking cold, and you think there’s blood on your leg from where you’ve been stabbed with the cactus spines.

You need help.

So you gather up the courage, pray that there’s someone home, that it’s not a serial killer, and knock on the door of the trailer.

There’s a loud thump, high pitched, muffled cursing, then some shuffling. The clicking of locks on the door, and then it swings open, revealing a man holding a shotgun.

Well fuck.

He’s lanky, thin and wirey, wild red hair tangled on top of his head. Large, hooded eyes squint at you sleepily, before the man cocks his head.

“You lost?”

“Uhm, yeah..... hi.” You sniffle out, and the man’s eyes visibly widen as he realizes you’re crying, in nothing but a short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, standing out in the cold.

The inside of the trailer is warm, and it makes your cheeks, ears, and frozen hands tingle as feeling begins returning to them. How had it gotten so cold in the fucking desert?

The man introduces himself as Tendou Satori, deputy of Shiratorizawa county. He’s not lying to you either, has the badge, the uniform - it even explains the shotgun.

He clicks his tongue when you limp inside, as light falls upon your hip and shows your jeans darkened with blood. Tells you to warm up first, sit in front of the heater vent, then he’ll help you with the cactus.

“What’re you doing way out here? City’s kinda far.”

“I was gonna watch the sunset, take pictures ‘n stuff.” You offered, wrapping the blanket he had provided more firmly around yourself. His gaze makes you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure why. It’s not like he’s going to do anything bad, he’s a police deputy.

His eyes are so flat though, still hooded even though he’s very much awake. Maybe that’s just the way he looks, but it’s a bit creepy.

“Didn’t think it’d get dark as fast as it did? Is that why you were wanderin’ around out there?”

You nodded. “Didn’t know it could get so cold either.”

Tendou chuckles, high pitched, and you wince. He sounds like a creepy funhouse clown when he laughs like that. “Ehehe, lots of people get caught off guard by desert weather. Think it’s hot all the time, can’t even imagine that it gets a bit chilly. You’re lucky I’m posted up here, otherwise you’d be a popsicle by morning!”

He was so nonchalant about the idea of you freezing to death, you didn’t know how to respond.

Luckily, you had warmed up enough to stop shaking, teeth no longer clattering together. Tendou told you to stay put while he got supplies to fix up “Your little owie!”

It was much more than a ‘little’ wound.

The trailer was filled with thick awkwardness as Tendou asked you to peel off your pants so he could get to the spines embedded in your skin. He didn’t seem to understand that you felt a little embarrassed, didn’t even turn his back as you slowly pushed them to your ankles, wincing as they dragged over your bloodied hip.

“Ok-ay! Now, this’ll hurt, so try not to scream a whole bunch, right?”

And then he was digging in with tweezers, delicately extracting cactus spines from your puffy, swollen hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurt, badly, and you started crying again, much to your embarrassment. Tendou didn’t seem to mind, kept his eyes fixed on your bloody leg as he quickly tended to it.

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry. You’ll have to hydrate a bunch after I’m done though.”

“Why does it hurt so much? Are they poisonous?” You yelped as the man tugged on a particularly painful spine, furrowing his brows in concentration as he pulled it out.

“Oh! It’s cause they’re like little meat hooks.” He looked up at you, smiling, holding his most recent extraction with his tweezers so you could see. “They get pretty attached once they get in you, hehe, but I’ll make you better.”

Forty minutes later had Tendou finishing up, finally deeming you cactus-free after a thorough inspection. He had plucked out the large spines with tweezers, before running his hand over your skin, stilling you when you flinched, explaining that he was feeling for the small needles.

You felt insanely uncomfortable, with his hands and face that close to such an intimate area.

“All do-ne!” The man sang, straightening his back, giving you a gleaming smile. His lips stretched too far over his teeth. “Now, I’ll get you some pants, and some water. You want to sleep in the bed with me? Or on the couch?”

What?

The panicked confusion must be evident on your face, because Tendou cackled, standing up, towering over you.

“Can’t go back out there, you wanna die? Gotta stay until mornin’.”

“The couch please.” The choice was easy, and Tendou nodded, before disappearing through a doorway into a dark room, coming back with an armful of blankets. He tossed a pair of pajama pants at you from the pile, but you hesitated in putting them on.

“Um.... Mr.? Can I have something to wipe off the blood?” It was crusted on your leg, dried and dark brown now.

Tendou turned from making up the couch, blinked at you slowly, looked at your leg. “Guess I should do that!”

You had to wait a bit longer, until he had arranged the couch to his liking, before the strange man fetched a wet washcloth to wipe off your leg with.

It was warm, and he was thorough as he sponged off the blood. The way he licked his lips while doing so made you feel a bit uneasy.

When you were finally clean, you tugged on your new pants quickly, finally feeling a bit more comfortable now that you were no longer exposed.

“Wanna eat before you go to bed? I have-” Tendou bent to shuffle through his fridge. “-Oh! I have applesauce! and crackers! Yum Yum!” Both items were held aloft triumphantly.

Who kept crackers in the fridge?

You just wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m good, thank you though.”

“Okay, beddy-bye time then I guess.” Why did he talk so childishly?

You tried to relax as he turned out the lights, bidding you good night as he shuffled back through the doorway, apparently into his bedroom.

Tomorrow you’d find your car, and everything would be fine.

-----

Tendou was sitting on the couch when you woke up, your bare feet in his lap.

“Good morning~!” His voice was so loud, you were wincing at the volume, at the sunlight streaming through the dingy curtains, at your first good look at his trailer - he’d kept it dark last night, only turning on one light.

It was clean, well, as clean as a trailer could be. Nothing suspicious or worrisome.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The man questioned, suddenly leaning far too close, his hand sliding up your calf.

“Oh-uhm-” You stuttered, blushing at the proximity, the foreign touch. “I should go find my car...”

Tendou rolled his eyes, backing off quickly. “Too boring. Also too far. It’ll hurt to walk, you won’t be able to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, immediately testing out his claim, hissing in pain as soon as you moved your leg.

Apparently, it was swollen and sore.

He was right, walking hurt, and you barely hobbled to the little bathroom without Tendou’s assistance. Maybe he could go find your car and bring it here? It had to be close by, you hadn’t been walking for that long last night...

“So!” Tendou clapped his hands, and you started, almost bumping into him as he stood, leaning over you on the couch. “Tell me about yourself, it’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over. You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Where’s your family? I’ve always wanted someone to keep me company here.”

“Woah, wait, what?”

Tendou chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re going to stay here with me now! I think we should get to know each other a bit, don’t you?”

Staying with him? Here? What was going on?

“Um, Mr.-”

“Tendou... or Satori, your choice.” The man interjected, before moving to flop down next to you on the couch.

“Tendou-” You continued. “-I can’t stay here. I need to find my car, and drive back to the city, back to my home. My roommate will be worried...”

“Home is here.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, it shocked you silent.

“You had a roommate though? How fun!!” He chirped, and you didn’t miss the emphasis on “had”. “You ever have sex with them?”

Tendou had moved in a second, pressed to your side, his face too close to yours, and you panicked.

“I gotta go. Really, I’m sorry, thank you for helping me out last night but I need to get going-” You were on your feet, ignoring the pain lancing through your leg as you hobbled quickly to the door, throwing it open.

A hand tugged on your shirt, pulling you off balance and forcing you to step backwards.

“You’re leaving? But I did so much for you, you haven’t even paid me back...”

His grip on your shirt was firm, but you wriggled and writhed until he was forced to let go. “I-I promise I’ll pay you when I get to my car. My wallet’s there, you can have everything in it-”

You pushed forward, through the door, barely dodging Tendou’s grabby hands. This wasn’t right, there was something off about him, you needed to get away.

“I don’t want you to go.” But you weren’t listening to his suddenly deep, serious voice. Instead, you were frantically looking around, trying to figure out which way you had come from last night.

There was nothing but cactus, rocks, and dirt.

“I was wishing for company the other day, y’know? It gets so lonely here, the sheriff isn’t a good conversationalist.”

The sheriff?

You whirled around, Tendou standing in the door, looking off to the side. You followed his gaze, saw the lawn chair, the upturned bucket next to it, two empty bottles of beer. There were more bottles littering the ground.... there was another lawn chair-

-and the fully-dressed body of a sheriff, half-decayed, sat in it.

You didn’t even think to scream; who would hear you out here? All you did was run, adrenaline roaring through your veins and letting you forget about your wounded leg.

“Wait!” Tendou called after you gleefully, bouncing out of the doorway. “You’re hurting his feelings! Ahehehe!!”

The man was deranged.

And you very quickly realized that there was no where to run.

Nowhere to hide.

-----

You couldn’t see your car, or anything that looked familiar. The only sounds in the air was the panting of your own breath, your feet thudding slowly underneath you as your initial shock wore off, as the adrenaline left you, as the pain returned.

It had only been a few minutes since you took off, speeding away from the unhinged madman. You were left wondering if he was really the deputy - maybe he’d killed the deputy, stolen his uniform.

Then you wondered why there was a dead sheriff in his yard. Had no one come looking for him? Where was the sheriff’s car? What was even going on?

It’s warm, the sun beginning to beat down on you relentlessly, and you curse the desert. Curse it’s unbearable heat during the day, it’s frigid temperatures at night.

“Pretty girl!!! I found you~!” Tendou’s shrill voice had you jerking your head around, frantically trying to see where the man was. Had he been following you? Where was he, there was nothing he could hide behind!

“You want to go for a ride in my fancy car? Is that it? I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll kiss under the moon!” The man cackled, and you determined that the voice was coming from your left.

But... there was nothing there?

Tentative, painful steps forward, towards his voice. Where was he? If you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t fight him. You needed to know where the creep was.

A careful step.

A careful st-

A terrified scream tore from your lungs as your foot seemingly plunged into thin air, immediately landing you on your butt as you slide down a steep incline.

It was a ravine.

You tumbled down into it’s depths, getting scraped by rocks and brush. Luckily, you slammed into something solid, metal, and it stopped your tumultuous motion.

Gaining your bearings, you stared hard at the door of the police car you’d just collided with, before a hand popped out of the window, waving at you.

“Beep beep!” Tendou snickered, his flat eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. “Let’s mess around, I’ve heard doing it in a car is fun.”

There’s no one around to hear you scream.

#tendou #Tendou satori #Yandere tendou #insane Tendou #yandere #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu!!#DARK haikyuu #dark tendou #satori #satori smut #Tendou satori smut #oneshot

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 4 years

Text

Fred Weasley x Reader- The Worry of Wealth

Hey! As promised, I will be posting my three part Fred story in celebration of reaching 100 followers so quickly! Feedback is always welcome!

"Fred? Fred? Freddie? Hellooo? You're staring again." Fred was snapped out of his thoughts by his twin clicking his fingers in front of his face.

"What?"

"Y/N. You're staring at her again, it's getting a bit creepy if you ask me." George tugged his brother's arm out to the courtyard.

"Yeah well I didn't ask you." Fred quipped back, slumping on the wall. George raised an eyebrow at Fred's tone and nudged him. "It's just so bloody frustrating Georgie. I like her. Like I REALLY like her." He groaned, hitting his head back on the bricks and closing his eyes in annoyance as you walked past him and gave him a small smile.

Y/N L/N- the most gorgeous girl to ever grace the grounds of Hogwarts. You were clever, beautiful and one of the funniest people Fred had ever met- some of your pranks even leaving him in awe. If that all didn't already make it hard enough for Fred to catch your attention you were part of the L/N family. The one family that was even more wealthy than the Malfoys. You could have anybody you wanted. Poor old Fred fell for you hard the moment he was paired with you in second year potions and you kept catapulting random ingredients into everyone else's cauldrons so you and him had the luxury of being the first to finish and escape Snape's words of wrath, all while enjoying the confused looks of the other students who were adament they had followed the recipe step by step. That was 4 years ago. He'd always noticed you before then but never really paid you too much attention, knowing from the get-go you'd never be interested in a Weasley. He opened his eyes and looked down at his clothes. His shoes were his dad's old ones, the soles tearing from the leather and scuffing at the front. His robes were fraying and his jumper sleeves both had holes in after being both Bill's and Charlie's before he got given them and grimaced.

George just looked at his brother and frowned. Y/N was genuinely one of the nicest people he had ever met but he'd be lying if he didn't think his family's financial situation would stop her from seeing Fred in any way more than just a friend rather than embarrassing herself by dating the guy from the poorest family at Hogwarts. Still, he'd always try anything to help his brother get what he wants.

"Come on Freddie, we've got quidditch practice next. That'll take your mind off her for at least a little bit." Fred still sulked and wouldn't move. "Oi." George slapped Fred's arm. "I'll race you. Last one there is a soggy mandrake." And with that George started to run. Fred rolled his eyes and jogged behind him. All of a sudden a huge crash was heard as George tripped and fell straight into the group of you and your friends, sending the books and papers you had stacked in your hands flying through the air and landing on the ground. "Ooopppss." George spoke childishly. "Sorry Y/N, gotta run. I’ve got a race to win." George finished continuing to run to the quidditch grounds after shooting a wink in his brother's direction. Fred immediately went to help you.

"Sorry my brother is such a bloody idiot. If you think this is bad, imagine living with him." He attempted to joke as his piled your discarded papers in his arms. He offered his hand out to you to help you up and felt his face flush as your skin came into contact with his. You just laughed it off and stood.

"It's fine honestly. I have 3 sisters, I'm used to it." You grinned, taking the pile of books and papers from him. He nodded in response and wiped his hands on his trousers, noticing they had become clammy. "Thanks Fred." You smiled, leaning up to kiss his pale cheek, trying to hide your amusement as you watched his face become redder than his hair. Fred zoned back in from his little daydream and opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh do you want a hand? With the books I mean. Not that I'd give you a hand with anything else. Obviously. Unless you wanted me to. Then I-" Your giggling cut him off.

"I'm actually free next period. Do you want to help me carry these back to my dorm? We could hang out for a bit after if you wanted as a thank you?" You asked, feeling your own heart beat a little rapidly for finally asking out the boy you'd been fawning over since you were 14. You watched as his face dropped and panicked. "You don't have to don't worry.."

"NO! Uh I mean.. I'd love to... but I can't. I can help you carry your stuff but there's quidditch practice I've got to go to since we have that big game against Slytherin in a couple days." Fred shouted inwardly at himself. The one bloody time he had an opportunity to be with you for a bit and he couldn't go. Although he was tempted to drop everything then and there for you.

"No worries! How about you sneak me into practice and then we can go grab a butterbeer afterwards?" You tried again, mentally crossing your fingers for luck. Fred nodded, for once in his life being completely speechless. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up and that this was just going to be an innocent drink among friends but he was still excited. He took all of your stuff from your hands, despite you saying you could carry a little bit before thinking through what you had said earlier and turning his head towards you.

"Hey Y/N?" You hummed in response. "How did you know I was Fred anyway? I'm pretty sure no one said our names when George rugby tackled you." You grinned and felt your cheeks warm a little. After having a soft spot for Fred the last four years you could tell the difference between him and his brother in a heartbeat.

"You're my favourite." You answered innocently.

"Right. Yeah okay. Makes sense." Fred swallowed deeply and carried on walking beside you.

In the distance George watched on and grinned to himself.

"Oh George Weasley you genius. 10 points for supreme wingmanery." He grinned to himself, actually making his way to the quidditch pitch now.

Barely 10 minutes had passed before Fred came sauntering out onto the quidditch pitch.

"Oi what took you so bloody long? Do you want us to lose?" Ron shouted at his brother. Fred said nothing and instead turned to face the stalls, giving you a quick wave and kicking up on his broom. "Bloody hell is that Y/N? As in THE Y/N L/N?" Ron's eyes widened as seeing your face in the distance.

"Freddie here is just a boy in love." George teased, making kissing noises as he flew around his twin.

"No way. Sorry Fred but it won't happen." Ron quipped, tightening his grip on his broom. "Have you seen her? She's gorgeous." He trailed off. "Not to mention stinking rich."

"Well rumour has it that Fred is going to Hogsmeade with her after practice for some butterbeer as 'friends'" George grinned.

"How did yo-"

"Eyes and ears everywhere Fred." Before anyone else could say a word Madame Hooch came out to begin training.

Spending 60 minutes ogling Fred Weasley was definitely one of your best choices of time wasting. You hadn't even realised they had finished until Fred came flying over to you, red faced and sweating slightly.

"Could you give me like 10 minutes to get cleaned up then I'll be ready to go if you're still up for it?"

"Of course I'm still up for it. It was my idea after all." You grinned.

"Wicked." He turned to fly back down when you called him back.

"Fancy giving me a lift down there? The stairs are a killer, I'll look like I've played 12 rounds of quidditch by the time I reach the bottom." You joked, slinging your small bag over your shoulder.

"You'd still look gorgeous." Fred muttered; realising quickly he said his thoughts out loud and coughed, hoping you didn't hear. "Uh I mean yeah. If you want. I'm a bit sweaty, mind and my broom's not the best but I reckon it could take your weight too.." He stopped and groaned. "Bollocks that's not what I meant. Obviously it would take your weight, you're perfect.. I mean, not perfect. Nobody's perfect. Not that you're NOT perfe-"

"Fred you're all good." You blushed a little at his words and his nervousness. He nodded and turned around and shuffling forward a little.

"Your chariot awaits Madame."

Fred stiffened as you used his shoulders for balance to climb behind him on the broom. You wrapped your arms around his frame and squeezed a little, both faces burning from the close proximity as you made your journey to the bottom of the pitch near the other players.

"I'll see you in a minute?" Fred asked more than anything, still not quite sure if you were going to go through with going out with him. You nodded and smiled, taking a seat on the bench there as the team walked through to the changing rooms.

"Not even been on a date yet and she's already ridden your broom."

"Bugger off George."

/./././././././././././././././././././././././././

The journey to The Hogshead was silent. Not awkard but equally not NOT awkward. It was unlike either of you to have nothing to say so this was definitely a new experience; you just hoped the conversation would pick up when you sat down with your drinks. Thankfully, it did.

"You know, I'm kind of glad your brother launched me in the courtyard. I've been wanting a good enough excuse to talk to you outside of class for a while." You admitted, awkwardly wiping away the condensation from the side of your butterbeer glass. Fred's cheeks dusted pink a little and he smiled.

"You didn't need an excuse; I'd have said yes anyway. Unless of course you like getting thrown to the ground before every date." OhshitFredsheneversaiditwasadate. "Not that this is a date. Is it? I wouldn't not like it to be. I get if it-"

"I've never heard you stumble over any of your words before. To be fair, I don't think I've heard you finish your own sentence for a while. It's cute." You grinned. "This can be whatever you want it to be." You finished. Fred tested the waters by reaching his hand over the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your knuckle.

"Thank Merlin for that. That could have been bloody awkward." With that interaction dealt with, the two of you spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything, neither of you having laughed so much before. Why hadn't he just manned up and asked you out sooner? You were just so amazing it enchanted Fred; enchanted him enough the past 60 minutes that he forgot he only had enough money for one butterbeer until the waitress came over with the bill; he had just finished his third but now he was sure he was going to throw it all back up. What was he going to do? Fred felt his hands sweat and his cheeks burn.

"Fred? Hey, are you okay?" You asked, placing the money for your drinks on the receipt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Fred croaked, pulling his hand out his pocket to show his few measly coins that he had. Mixed in it was 2 buttons and a piece of gum, none of which Fred was sure would work as accepted currency.

"Don't worry about it, I got it." You smiled, taking out some more money and setting your purse back in your bag. The waitress gave Fred a look and smiled at you before walking away. Fred had never felt so embarrassed- now he remembered why he didn't ask you out before. Then he felt himself doing something he hadn't done in years- his eyes started to water and he had to get out of there.

"Sorry I've uh. I've got to go. Thank you for the drinks." And with that he all but ran out of there, turning multiple corners until he found the side street next to Zonko's that led to a small seating area he could be alone for a while. What was he thinking? Did he honestly think going out with the richest, most popular girl in school was going to work in his favour? Stupid, even for you Freddie. He hung his head in his hands and groaned, so lost in thought that he didn't hear someone walking up to him, only startling when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"Fred?" Oh god, it was you. Let's play a game called 'How Many More Times Can Fred Make Himself Look A Complete Moron'.

"Hey. I should be able to pay you back in a few months after my birthday. Sorry again." He muttered, standing up to get ready to leave again. You tugged him back by his sleeve.

"Don't be silly Fred, you don't have to pay me back at all. You paid me enough just by agreeing to come with me." You smiled, slipping your hand from his sleeve to his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Fred sighed again and gave you a weak smile.

"You could literally have anyone el-"

"What if I don't want anyone else?"

"Then you're weird."

"You're weird too."

"Mean.."

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me." Fred still just stood there dumbfounded so you rolled your eyes and pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms round his neck and kissing him. After the shock settled Fred kissed back, bits of confidence coming back to him as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling your body as close to his as he could. Eventually the need to breathe called and you pulled away, resting your foreheads together.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." You both said at the same time and started to laugh. "Second year potions?" You laughed again and pecked each other's lips once more.

"You know I can't take you out to fancy restaurants and buy you expensive gifts right?" Fred breathed, still trying to recover mentally from what just happened. Christ George wouldn't believe it.

"Fred you could take me to a junkyard bin diving and as long as you called it a date I'd love it because you'd be there."

"You're giving me some good ideas here. Hold on a sec, just need to grab my quill." He laughed, taking a step back from you but reaching for your hand to still keep you close. You slapped his chest with your free hand and laughed. "So it really doesn't bother you? Genuinely? I won't be offended. Although after that kiss I might cry a bit." You smiled as you made your journey back to Hogwarts hand-in-hand.

"Not even a little bit."

././././././././././././././././././././././

"No way. Harry, give me your glasses." Ron slapped his best friend's arm as he watched you and Fred walk through the courtyard holding hands.

"What?"

"Jammy git he is. Look. Fred and Y/N. Holding hands." Ron stated, pointing obviously towards you two. Harry stared too, equally surprised.

"That, Ronald, was the creation of yours truly." George appeared from nowhere. "This morning I ran into Y/N, knowing little lover boy would help her. She asked him out as a thank you. I'm practically Cupid." George beamed, genuinely happy his plan worked for Fred's sake (and for his own bragging rights).

"Bloody hell. We've got divinations next, fancy tripping Hermione down the stairs?"

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed.

"What?"

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley smut #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #fred weasley x you smut #fred weasley x reader smut #Fred Weasley #weasley twins #george weasley

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emialawliet · 3 years

Text

The mysteries of Wonder Egg Priority and some interesting things I found in it

Oh hi Acca. Wait is that a crack on your right lens?

One of the great things about WEP is that it is an original anime wherein we do not have any source material to check on its story thus we do not have a clue on what’s gonna happen next besides the things that happen in each episode. These are one of those animes which are fun to observe.

Plot Summary: Ai scores a “Wonder Egg” from a gachapon machine at a deserted arcade. But now when Ai falls asleep a girl emerges from her Wonder Egg, the worlds of dreams and reality begin to collide. And it’s all connected.

From the first episode, we have been given a huge amount of symbolism. Aside from the main subject of bullying and Ai’s guilt by pretending not to see it that cost her bestfriend’s life, there are a lot of other things that I noticed that seem to have a deeper meaning behind them or could be a hint to something. I’ll list these things one by one from the first 2 episodes..

This post is going to be quite a long one, so I’ll keep it minimal enough to just tickle your thoughts. And believe me, things got clearer to me as I am making this post.

The anime starts in a sort of a dream world.. or is it?

1) The firefly

In some cultures firefly may not have a positive reputation. But in Japan, where they are called "hotaru," they are beloved – a metaphor for passionate love in poetry since Man'you-shu (the 8th century anthology). -Namiko Abe @ thoughtco.com

Ai can be seen looking at a dead firefly. She seems caring for it and she even gave it a proper burial. Could this symbolize someone dear to her? Now let’s proceed..

2) person in the car

Is this a clue? I’ll remember that hair for some reason..

3) Ai’s conversation with the firefly and the Special Gacha Machine

firefly: What are you doing in a place like this?

Ai: Walking.

F: This late at night?

After burying the firefly, it suddenly came out the soil and spoke to Ai with a male voice. Their conversation seems to me like a suspicious man talking to an innocent girl in a place where a young one like her isn’t supposed to be..

F: The first time’s free. Next time bring your wallet.

This is one of the things commonly used to convince someone to try something they are usually not willing to for the first time. Like a free trial..

..and was then led somewhere underground where the “Special Gacha Machine” is located.

That’s a lotta eggs. What could this underground facility be? And here’s the Gacha Machine:

So that’s the thing in the poster.

Weird huh? But the next morning, Ai wakes up with the egg beside her..

4) The dream

..Or is it not entirely a dream? I mean the egg appearing beside her is one thing although it could be that the egg is just in her mind. But the thing that complicates things is the injuries she gets in real life, to the point where she and even Neiru needs to get hospitalized.

Ai asked why this (the whole dream she’s in) is happening to her and this is what Kurumi said:

“Nothing costs more than a free gift huh?” Indeed, life is priceless. But in this story, it is only free the first time. The second night, Ai paid a huge price. Could those injuries mean this?

“This is a dream to you, but to me it is reality.” -Kurumi Saijo

Ai will not die in this dream, as long as her eyes and heart are okay.

Did she really sneak at night twice? Since getting the Wonder Egg to saving Kurumi? In this scene we also see the teacher in full for the first time and I dunno about you guys but I think that hair is familiar..

The firefly even asked her this. We’ve seen Ai sneaking out at night but the things that follow are strange enough to happen in real life. Is it possible that what we're seeing is a mixture of Ai’s imagination and reality?

Something caused these injuries. Or is it Ai herself? Let us find out..

After saving Kurumi, a mysterious male voice said “Too bad, you only get saved. But you have to cheer up if you want your bestfriend back.”

She then asked this:

..but got no clear response. Of course we know the answer, Koito is not going back to life. but why does the voice demand her to do that? Not even the firefly could answer her clearly. But she continued to believe that this will get her bestfriend back.

“If you can’t protect them, you won’t make it either.” -Firefly

“There’s no point going to save someone if she gets herself killed.” -Ura-Acca

Does they mean the guilt might kill her too? Does this imply suicide? Could this be a hint where Ai gets her injuries?

And Neiru asked her who she is fighting for.. Ai firmly said it was for Koito.

“You don’t like yourself now, so you go. You want to change the self you hate.” Well this could also be true for herself despite saying it’s for her sister whom she let die. How? We’ll soon know more about this I guess.. At the moment, we know that Neiru loves her current self.

Ai hates herself for betraying her bestfriend. The first friend she ever had.

Koito probably asked her to film the bullying as evidence, but Ai was too scared of being left out. She wasn’t able to get a good shot, but Koito only smiled at her and knew she did her best.

5) The egg

From the title itself, the egg is a very prominent object in this anime. We still do not have a clear answer as to what it really represents, but according to the speaking firefly and Kurumi, it contains what a person wants the most, and in Ai’s case, it is a friend. She denies this to both of them but they both know it is the truth.

The eggs appear in different colors, with letters, numbers and symbols printed on them. Once cracked, it reveals a person. This is where we can relate the egg’s symbolism of life and creation.

A mysterious male voice angrily told Ai to break the egg, and this is what he said afterwards:

Ai is “good” at it, huh. What could he probably mean I wonder..

It was later revealed that Kurumi is another sculpture, a “captured maiden” in a different world like Ai’s bestfriend Koito. This confirms that Kurumi is also dead, which leads me to think that the eggs are the souls of those who died from suicide or abuse.

They couldn’t pass on unless the guilt of their friends stop holding them back. And this I think is also what’s happening to our MC Ai and Koito’s soul.

6) Kurumi Saijo

She wears a different uniform than Ai’s. A victim of bullying by 3 girls.

Like Ai, she also said she did not have any friends, just superficial ones.

And this could be hinting at the reason why she was bullied by those girls. She does have the looks. But these looks might be the reason why she had no real friends. And a boyfriend of this fake friend probably liked her and broke up with her fake friend which started the bullying. I smell jealousy.

In this dream, she found her resolve while saving Kurumi.

I gotta say though, the animation is impressive from start to finish. That button popping off has me goin “whoa they even thought of adding that bit.” And the explosion that followed.. oof.

After being saved by Ai, she asked Ai to not forget her and disappeared into dust. Was Kurumi able to finally pass on?

) Minami Suzuhara

Seriously, in this anime, adorable girls have no friends.

Damn her “trauma” is a ridiculous boob monster.

She could have died due to over fatigue and stress from her coach’s verbal abuse.

Ai had another injury the following day.

) Ai’s enemies

The Seenoevils, a disorderly mob. In real life, they are the ones that pretend not to see the bullying, letting it happen and thus contribute to the damage being dealt to thee victim. And the form of the egg’s “traumas”, the Wonder Killer, which are the main cause who led the victims to their deaths. In the dream world, they do not attack Ai. But they can damage her, only for the effects to appear outside the dream.

Ai uses Kurumi’s pen as her first weapon, and Minami’s ribbon wand as the second.

Like Kurumi, after she was saved she also asked Ai to remember her before disappearing into dust.

) The teacher

Ai’s teacher seems really nice, going as far as to visit her and deliver the week’s print outs to their home. Ai must not be attending school for weeks..

We now know that Ai’s location is nearby their teacher’s home. Could he be the guy in the car then? We don’t have enough evidence of that as of yet.

In the second episode, Ai’s teacher visited again.

Now we see his face. He’s got a mole huh.

But why this question teach?

So that’s his name. And why the special treatment?

Here we see him walk behind Koito and she follows..

) Acca & Ura-Akka

The most intriguing thing I found in the first ep..

After discovering the truth about Kurumi, Ai was led to the end of the underground tunnel and found these two strange dolls playing Go, a japanese traditional board game. One looks like a professional, and the other just casual. They introduced themselves as Acca and Ura-Acca.

Judging by that definition, these two dolls could be the same person. Let’s watch out for that.. Who could this person be? And what is his connection to Ai?

“Haste makes waste.” These two are worried about Neiru. They strongly advise on taking the process slow or else she might die. Is this person a therapist?

) Neiru Aonuma

Did I read that right.. VICE PRESIDENT?? I get the feeling her sister died caused by neglect from their parents because they were more focused on this Neiru who “loves herself”. She also seems to me like a foreigner. She speaks english quite well and we see the mom with a nice cute afro.

She was too greedy to get multiple eggs at once. She could have fought through an intense battle. Probably why she was put in the intensive care unit.

She also does not know the fun of being in a friendship. But then she agrees on being friends with AI :) I am glad how Ai is starting to change too.

I am looking forward for these two’s friendship <3

And that’s about all the curious things I’ve gathered in the first 2 episodes.

I am definitely going to continue watching this series and witness the truth unfold. Until the next egg time!

#wonder egg priority

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farrawayfromthere · 3 years

Text

Let’s Not Let A Year Pass By This Time

Pairing: Jordan Todd/Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 2k

Summary: After the family annihilator case that had been the last straw for Jordan at the BAU, they don’t see each other for a year.

A/N: for Day 4 of CM Fanfiction Week (Underrated character/pairing); tagging @simmonsmilf and @starry-eyed-spence (gif credit to @j3mily)

Jordan’s in line at a coffee shop in DC, eyeing a chocolate chip muffin in the display case with her name on it.

She fidgets with the zipper on her wallet then wonders with a small sigh if she’d be better off ordering an egg sandwich for the protein.

Today, her team’ll be flying up to a small city in New Hampshire who’s two post offices have both received bomb threats in the last couple days. She knows she’ll be interviewing postal workers all day; she’s gonna need the energy.

“Jordan? Agent Todd? Is that you?”

It’s a voice she hasn’t heard in what feels like a lifetime.

Jordan looks over her shoulder and finds herself face to face with a woman she hasn’t seen in over a year, just a couple customers behind her.

Emily’s face splits into that same huge, brilliant smile Jordan remembers.

“It is you! My god!”

She looks.... really good.

“Agent Prentiss,” Jordan says, eyes growing wide, mouth dropping open slightly.

Emily’s grown her bangs out, pushed them to the sides.

Her dark, dark brown hair falls smoothly, elegantly just past her shoulders.

She’s wearing a black pantsuit, well-tailored. A black, silky looking blouse underneath and black, thick heeled boots that make her feel even taller than Jordan remembers.

She looks, really, really good.

The guy behind her clears his throat and Jordan realizes the line has moved along.

She gestures for him and the lady behind him to go ahead, and reaches for Emily’s sleeve.

“It’s great to see you,” Emily says.

Jordan’s laugh is a disbelieving exhale.

The other woman extends a hand to shake and Jordan feels a strange, subtle swoop in her stomach when their palms press against one another’s.

Emily’s is still cool; Jordan’s, still warm.

Jordan wonders if Emily’s one of those people who always feels cold, just like she’s one of those people who always feels warm.

Suddenly, all the turtlenecks and sweaters she’d seen her wear around the BAU make a little more sense.

Emily’s hand squeezes hers back, and Jordan blinks up at her.

Emily’s eyes are bright, and even through their automatic, habitual coolness, suddenly, a little shy.

“Um, hi,” Jordan says, the words a little breathless.

“Long time no see,” Emily says.

“You’re telling me.”

Emily blinks and gives her a rueful little half-grin.

“I never called.”

“Well, I didn’t either,” Jordan says, keeping humor in her voice, “I meant to, in that first month, but—.”

“We just got so busy after you left. I didn’t realize how much time was passing, I’m so sorry,” Emily says.

They’d told each other they would stay in touch, but the days and weeks and months had just—slipped by.

By the time Jordan realized that an unacceptable amount of time had passed and she’d yet to make good on her promise to grab lunch or dinner with the older agent, the mere idea of picking up the phone and dialing her number made Jordan feel antsy with unease.

It would’ve been too weird; too awkward.

“It’s okay,” Jordan says, “Neither did I.”

Emily blows air out of her cheeks, expression full of relief.

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah, Prentiss. We’re good.”

She allows herself to take in Emily’s new hair for a moment.

She gestures lazily at it with her index finger.

“I gotta say. I like the no bangs look on you. Very elegant. Very mysterious FBI woman.”

Twin patches of pink appear high in her cheeks.

“Thanks.”

Jordan smiles.

“You still look like you could kill a man with one stomp of those boots though.”

A grin breaks through Emily’s blush.

“Oh, so they’re giving off the energy I’d hoped they would when I bought them?”

“If the energy you had in mind was ‘don’t mess with me’, then yeah, I’d say so.”

“Next,” the young man at the cashier calls.

Jordan winks at Emily, then steps forward to order her sandwich and coffee. She’s surprised when she finishes and the cashier looks over her shoulder to speak to Emily.

Quickly and efficiently, the taller woman orders herself a medium coffee and an old-fashioned donut from the display case. She pays for both of their orders without a moment’s hesitation, before Jordan can even open her mouth to protest.

“Thanks,” Emily tells the cashier, while Jordan, stomach swirling with a deep warmth that’s startling in its suddenness, places a couple bills in the tip jar.

They sit at a small table for two by the window.

When Jordan looks up from skim milk and raw sugar into her coffee, Emily’s eyes are already cautiously on her.

“So how have you been,” the taller woman asks.

“Uh, good,” Jordan says, then after a moment, ”I’m where I belong.”

“I’m glad,” Emily says, grinning as she mixed cream and a Splenda into her own coffee, “You didn’t seem to like working at the BAU very much.”

“I didn’t,” Jordan says honestly, “But some parts of the experience were better than others. Plus, JJ and I have been friends since our time at the Academy so....”

Emily pushes her hair behind her shoulders, revealing small silver disk shaped earrings that glimmer as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Jordan hesitates just a moment before saying it.

“I’ve gotta say: You look good, Emily.”

Emily’s eyes twinkle; a pleased smile spreads across her face, so genuine that Jordan realizes, for the first time, that Emily Prentiss has a perfect pair of tiny dimples.

Her eyes take in Jordan’s pristine navy blazer, her well styled ponytail. They linger briefly on her mouth, today a deep plum.

“Well, you look better.”

Jordan almost spits out her first sip of coffee; She’s acutely aware that her cheeks have just gone very hot.

Emily‘s smile is a bit too smug for Jordan’s liking. She rolls her eyes.

“I know I do.”

“Oh, really,” Emily exclaims with a grin.

Jordan looks down at her egg sandwich for a moment, appetite suddenly non-existent.

The fluttering in her stomach, the smell of Emily’s perfume is making it hard to think.

She smiles a small, tentative smile.

“How’s life?”

Emily takes a sip from her coffee.

“You know. Chasing down serial killers most days of the week, coming home, watching re-runs of The Sopranos, passing out. Rinse... and repeat.”

Jordan tilts her head.

“No special someone or someones’ to keep things interesting?”

Emily meets her eyes.

“Well I don’t know about special.... Distractions? Sure... but... uh... nobody I care very much about, and definitely nobody who cares very much about me. What about you?”

Jordan snorts.

“I don’t know about special,” she says, repeating Emily’s earlier words before half-smiling and shaking her head, “No. Nobody.”

“That’s good.”

Jordan raises a brow.

Emily winces at herself.

“I mean.... hey, that’s... it’s tough out here?”

Jordan laughs, the sound loud and genuine.

Emily hums, taking a sip of her coffee.

“How’s JJ,” Jordan asks, “The rest of the team?”

Emily sets her coffee down and smiles a soft smile.

“Good. She’s good. We all are,” Emily says, then after a pause, “She loves Will and Henry very much. I think they’re what keep her going now... but... I also think they make everything much harder than it used to be for her. She sees them in every case, and it scares her so much, even though she’ll never admit it.”

Jordan nods, understanding.

“I bet it helps though,” she muses, “To have someone to come home to. People to hold you at the end of those long-ass days you all have over at the BAU.”

Emily’s smile grows more faint.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says quietly.

“Well,” Jordan says, just as quiet, “Neither would I. But that’s what I imagine.”

“Yeah, well... it didn’t work out very well for Hotch,” Emily says.

Jordan fixes her gaze on her coffee.

She’d been overseas during Haley Hotchner’s funeral; she’d wondered how her murder had affected the team at the BAU, how it had affected Emily.

They all already had trust issues... she wondered just how much more they all feared intimacy now....

Emily seems to return to her senses, eyes darting up to meet Jordan’s and startling a little when she recognizes the compassion Jordan can’t help but feel for her.

Emily had been the best part of her time at the BAU.

And okay, maybe Jordan had developed a little, truly tiny, irrelevant crush on her in that time, and maybe.... maybe it had been a little devastating that they’d never gotten in touch again after she’d left the BAU—

Regardless, Jordan wants the woman sitting across from her to be happy.

She smiles faintly at her, then her eyes catch sight of the clock hanging over the cafe’s entrance and she starts.

“Shit,” she says, standing up, “I’m gonna be late.”

Emily looks up at her, for a second panicked, then she’s scrambling in her bag for something.

“Uh—please wait.”

She pulls out a pen and takes the cafe receipt Jordan’s crumbled up and forgotten on the table.

“We’ve gotta catch up properly, Agent Todd,” she says, scribbling her number on the back of it, “New number.”

Jordan tugs her phone from her purse.

“Just read it out to me, I’ll add you in right now,” she says.

Emily does.

Jordan smiles at it, then hesitates.

“Can I snap a quick photo of you for your contact? I‘m actively working with four women named Emily on three different continents.”

Emily’s eyes flash with a hint of something Jordan can’t decipher, then she nods.

“Sure—uh—how do I look? You’re gonna have to deal with this picture of me forever.”

“You know you look good,” Jordan says, holding up the phone, “But I’ll allow you one retake if you don’t like it.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

Emily straightens her back. She gives a small, close mouthed smile for the picture, dark eyes looking deeply into the camera.

“One... two... okay, got it.”

Jordan shows the picture to her and Emily grimaces.

“Ugh.”

Jordan scoffs.

“Oh, come on. You look like an English rose or whatever. It’s a good picture.”

“An English rose,” Emily repeats, laughing.

Jordan glances down at her still open camera and, lips quirking, snaps another photo.

This time, she catches Emily, eyebrows drawn up in amusement, grinning. She’s looking warmly out at Jordan over the lens of the camera rather than looking into it head on.

“Oh, I’m keeping this one.”

“What? Hey. Wait, let me see.”

Jordan shows her and Emily groans.

“No.... no, no, no.”

“Too bad it’s your one retake, huh?”

“But I didn’t even know you were taking it!”

“My phone, my rules,” Jordan says, putting her phone away and looking down at her with a grin, “I guess I’ll talk to ya later.”

Emily’s still grumbling under her breath.

Jordan lets a hand fall on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before making for the doors.

“Hey Jordan,” she hears behind her.

And Jordan remembers in that moment that she likes the sound of her first name in Emily’s mouth.

She looks over her shoulder.

“Let’s not let a year pass by this time, alright,” Emily calls.

Jordan laughs, “Let’s make it two!”

“Please don’t,” Emily calls back.

“Or three!”

On the train, she tugs out her phone again, smiling a little at Emily’s contact photo.

She dials her number and Emily picks up on the second ring.

“Well this is nice. You gave me your real number,” Jordan says.

Emily snorts.

“I see you have a very high opinion of me.”

Jordan hesitates.

“Well, I’ll be honest... I don’t know you very well. All I know....”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a gentle whoosh.

“All I know was that you were the only thing that made my time at the BAU bearable, Emily. You stood up for me when nobody else did. You cared enough to check up on me when I was having a bad day. Even when I just acted like a jerk in return. And I’ll never forget that.“

She stops to let the honesty of her words hang in the air, then:

“I honestly was a little bummed out that we never hung out outside of work like we said we would.”

Emily seems stunned into silence by Jordan’s honesty.

Jordan doesn’t care.

She’s happy she’s said it.

Happy Emily knows that she brought good into someone’s life, at least for a little while.

“I don’t know what to say,” Emily murmurs.

“You’re one of those people who can’t handle intense sincerity, huh,” Jordan jokes.

Silence again; she must be walking.

Jordan can hear the click of her thick heels even over the phone.

“Not on a daily basis, no,” Emily says at last, but there’s a happy edge to her voice, “Confession from me?”

“Go for it.”

“It bummed me out a little too, that we never got together like we’d planned. You were excellent company, Jordan Todd. And I... I guess I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve really missed you.”

Jordan finds herself smiling.

“Sap.”

Emily laughs and Jordan chuckles in response.

For a second there’s silence on the line, then:

“Let’s get lunch this week,” Emily says, “Someplace good.”

Jordan bites the inside of her lower lip, trying to fight her own smile, knowing it’s a fight she’s going to be having with herself all day.

She knows today will be the day she’ll be called out for asking about bomb threat details with a glimmer of a smile on her face.

She doesn’t care.

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Name the place and I’m there.”

#cmficweek #jordan todd x emily prentiss #jormily #damn it they could've been great #jordan todd #emily prentiss #sbshfjsjdkdkrjrjr i don’t know what this is

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joopiterjoon · 3 years

Text

Working Double Time

Pairing: Hoseok x reader x Seokjin

Genre: +18, PW(ith)P

Tags/Warnings: threesome, light voyeurism, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, blowjobs, eiffel tower, multiple orgasms, boys kissing

Songspo: Killshot- Magdalena Bay

Summary: You’ve been overworking yourself, so Hoseok makes an enticing proposal about how to finish off a rough week.

a/n: I’m back momentarily to post this story I finally finished for the ARMY for AAPI event by @armyadvocates. This is a commission for an anonymous donor who requested it on behalf of their ARMY friend. I hope you enjoy!

Hoseok’s in his yoga gear when you drag yourself through the front door. The flimsy tank top that hangs off his body by literal threads and the short-shorts in green. But you are so done with the day that you don’t even have the energy to appreciate his toned, long legs stretched out to the end of the mat. You drop your bag, trudge right past his cheerful greeting, and start to tug your bra out of your top before you are even in the bedroom.

The bed doesn’t even feel inviting when you flop down onto it before groaning into the pillow.

Today sucked.

Well, the week sucked.

Maybe the month?

Everything had gotten too much, and it’s your own fault. Tax season is absolute hell, and it has you wondering what life would be like if you were an “accountant” and not a real accountant everytime one of those tiktoks came through your scrolling. It seemed like no one knew what they were doing, and anyone who did was leaving you to help out the newbies. Forget the fact that you have your own work.

And to top it all off, you had struggles with what could only be considered extracurricular work because your dumbass decided to continue participating in the sorority’s chapter functions from your alma mater. And somehow, sorority drama always coincide with the worst part of tax season. And these girls seem to be as helpless as your coworkers, putting you in the middle of things.

You groan into the pillow again, kicking your feet like it could relieve some of the stress you’d put on your own shoulders.

“Wow, that’s some killer lion’s breath,” you hear from the direction of the door.

You stop fussing long enough to mumble into the comforter, “Everything sucks.”

Hoseok hums knowingly. “That bad, huh? Lots to do?”

With a groan, you roll over. He knows you too well, that you are in this situation because you keep taking on work. You give him a pitiful look, which isn’t hard since it is how you feel.

Hoseok shares the look empathetically. His chin is propped on the edge of the bed, sweaty hair a mess from bending through all his yoga positions, eyes wide and shining underneath the bangs. He looks adorable, and you feel like trash. Your clothes feel suffocating as your workload and your skin feels thick from lack of sleep and too many takeout lunches.

“The next time someone asks me to do something, tell me to say no.”

“Why me?” He asks, head tilting to the side.

“Because I always listen to you,” you continue, flopping onto your back. Your body is so heavy with exhaustion, you don’t know if you’ll be getting up for the rest of the evening.

But before you stare at the ceiling, you catch the darkening of Hoseok’s expression at your words. He sighs, and you feel the bed shift as he sits next to you. “How can you be so sexy even when you’re stressed?”

“Sure,” you scoff.

“Laid out like this, telling me to order you around,” Hoseok murmurs to himself. The back of his fingers lightly trace over your arms, down the side of your waist, to rest on your hip.

You’re exhausted, but your lips tug into a small smile. He’s got one of those teasing smiles on his face, but there’s something darker in those eyes that roam your body. You want to entertain him, but your body fights against you, refusing to give up the slight reprieve of laying in bed.

So you take his hand, close your eyes, and sigh deeply. “I know it’s six, but let’s go to bed.”

“Hmm…” When he doesn’t continue, you peak an eye open. His bottom lip juts out as he rubs his chin. “This looks like more than I can handle, mi princesa.”

You push up on your elbows, feeling your heart sink. You don’t want to worry him, too. “No, babe. It’s fine, I’m just--”

“I think,” Hoseok starts before you can finish, tapping his lips thoughtfully until you close your mouth. “I think we might need to enlist some backup.”

Your heart immediately rises along with the blush on your cheeks. “Backup?”

“Mhm,” Hoseok nods, watching your interest closely. “Think we might need to go find someone to help us take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” You whisper, feeling your mind get hazy at the thought. That’s what you need right now. You can feel it in your bones, your skin when Hoseok reaches out to stroke the back of your hand.

“What do you say I dress you up all pretty and go find something just as pretty to pair with you?”

You can’t help the giddy smile spread over your face as you nod. Hoseok’s offering to take control for the evening, and you will give it gladly. All of it.

“Really?” You ask again, feeling your senses revive again at the thought.

Hoseok nods with his lips pursed. He leans over you, planting a loud kiss on your forehead. “Yes, really. If that’s what you want. If you aren’t too exhausted.”

It sounds like he’s making fun of you, but it’s genuine. And you know this will end in a kind of exhaustion you are more than willing to deal with. An exhaustion that leaves the rest of you restored.

“Yes, please,” you say, smiling sweetly.

Hoseok smiles back, but it’s different. It’s that smile that hurts in the best way. Makes you feel a little nervous even after all these years.

“Okay, princesa,” Hoseok purrs, tracing a finger over your lips. “Then tonight, you’ll be my doll.”

“Okay,” you agree, feeling his thumb bump your upper lip.

“Ah-ah,” Hoseok tuts, but he leans in for a kiss. It’s soft, chaste, and not enough. You follow him when he pulls back, but he holds you down. “Dolls don’t talk. Dolls don’t move. They look pretty and are handled however I please.”

Your legs twist beneath him involuntarily. You go to say yes, but nod instead. Hoseok’s pleased smile has your cheeks burning.

“Tonight, I’m going to take care of you. We’re getting rid of all that stress, doll,” Hoseok lifts himself off the bed and to the closet in one motion. He continues to speak as he starts looking through the clothes. His voice is cheerful as he continues, “You will speak only when spoken to. You will only do as you are commanded. Dolls are just pretty things to be used, do you understand?”

He glances over his shoulder, and you nod again. It feels weird, like you should be upset he’s taking your voice from you, but… it’s not. It’s what you need. In a day where everyone is asking more, more, and more of you, where you are constantly being told to answer and instruct, it’s nice. You close your eyes as you hear him rifling through things, enjoying the way your lips rest together, wordless.

“Sit up,” Hoseok orders. When you open your eyes, he’s holding up one of his favorite dresses on you. He loves the way it fits your curves, how it looks like you are bursting out of it, so much of you for him to devour.

You do as you are told and reach to pull off your blouse. The click of his tongue has you pausing. “What did I say earlier?”

Your hands pause, and you glance up. He waits, and you know you need to answer. “Dolls don’t talk and…” you blush, “and they don’t move.”

“That’s right. No moving unless I tell you to. Now, are you going to follow orders while I dress you up?”

You nod, averting your eyes. There’s something oddly intimate about Hoseok taking your clothes off not to ravish you, but to reassemble you. His hands are just as soft as they pull the shirt over your head, shimmying your legs out of the pants. When his knuckles knead into the back of your shins, you can’t help the sigh that comes out.

“That’s right,” Hoseok coos. “Gotta relax these legs before I put you in some heels.”

You giggle a bit at that. Hoseok loves fashion. This isn’t the first time he’s dressed you, just not literally. Actually, he has probably approved or bought most of what’s in your closet. The perks of a boyfriend who runs a fashion blog on the side.

Your mind wanders between topics as Hoseok slips you out of your underwear, pulling one of your red lingerie sets out of the drawers to match the dress. You aren’t even hyperaware of yourself as he clasps the bra behind you, lost in thought from the opportunity to let your mind rest. It isn’t until he commands you to stand that you feel your legs shaking.

You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, looking down. You watch as he steps your feet through the red lace, his fingers tracing your legs in a teasing touch as he pulls them up to your waist. He watches his work, and his hot breath brushes your core as he sets them in place. Finally, he looks up at you, gaze focused, as he leans forward to kiss the small bow in the middle of the waistband, teeth catching on it before he lets it pop back into place. You are embarrassed by how loud your gasp is.

“I like you like this,” Hoseok muses, standing again to grab the dress off the hook.

He turns, opening the dress for you to step into it. He turns you then, grabbing the zipper that sits above the hem of the panties. He leans in, his body almost flush to yours as he plays with the circular hook on the zipper. His lips brush your ear as he starts to zip it up. “Relaxed, pliant, that look on your phase that’s a little fucked out already.”

Your breath catches at his swear. You only heard him talk like that in the bedroom. And for a fleeting second, you wonder if you are even going to make it out of the bedroom. But the sun was setting in the window, and Hoseok was stepping back, telling you to turn around.

He hadn’t stepped too far back. As you turn, your shoulders brush his chest, and there’s not much room from where the backs of your legs hit the bed. He stares down at you, noses almost touching. His hands reach, and your eyes closed, waiting.

But his fingers simply run through your scalp, scratching lightly as he fluffs out your hair. He takes a step back, smirk on his face, as he fan it around your face. “There we go. Prettiest doll I’ve ever seen.”

You glance behind him in the mirror. And you do look great. Hoseok always knows what fits you best, truly dresses you to emphasize, well, you.

He goes to dress himself, slicking his hair back with a little bit of product. He shrugs off the tank top, and you admire the slim curve of his back as he throws a dress shirt around his shoulder. He pulls on white slacks, buttoning them as he turns his face side to side in the mirror. His undercut to deal with the summer heat draws attention to the stacked part in his hair that leaves his side profile striking. When he turns around, you are shocked by how dangerous he looks dressed in an innocent color like white.

“C’mon,” he holds his hand out, dropping your black heels in front of you. “Let’s go find us another toy.”

In the car, Hoseok keeps a loose hand resting on your thigh, right below where the dress ends. He taps the wheel happily with his other hand, occasionally throwing glances at you when you stop at the lights. It’s a quiet car ride, but you don’t feel the need to fill it. Instead, you are wondering what awaits you. The pads of Hoseok’s fingers tighten on your skin whenever he makes a turn. The city lights dance on as the sky deepens to violet.

“What do you want, princessa?” Hoseok finally asks, pulling up to a bar you all attend at celebrations. You didn’t realize at first, the fanciness of your outfits. But now you realize he’s spoiling you.

You turn to him, though, unsure what he’s asking.

“Any preferences?” Hoseok clarifies, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

“Ah,” you say, finding your voice a little foreign after over an hour of silence. “I’m good.”

Hoseok’s smile tugs at the corner. “Yes, yes you are.”

You blush at that. “Oh, no, I--”

Hoseok leans forward, the hand behind your ear clasping your neck to kiss you. It’s messy and hard, taking you off guard. But you settle into it, following the motions of Hoseok’s lips, the press of his tongue as he swallows down your moans.

When he pulls back, he smiles bright and practically sings, “Then I’m going to watch for whoever can’t take their eyes off of you.”

You nod a little breathlessly before Hoseok’s hopping out of the car, a pep in his step, and opens your door. He takes your hand to guide you out of the car, and you can’t help but be a little amused at how much he is enjoying himself.

Hoseok likes control. You’ve known it since your first date. The unknown makes him nervous. He’s practiced yoga for decades for the control and awareness of his body. His appearance is immaculate due to his interest in controlling how others see him. Even in his day job as a dance instructor, he’s in control of the flow of bodies, the beat and response. For him, it’s how he can relax.

And for you, it’s the total opposite. Control is thrust in your face all day long, and you want to recede into the confines of rules. You don’t want the weight of making the decisions, calling the shots, negotiating, organizing. You did too well at what you were told to do, which is what you liked, and ended up on the other side.

With Hoseok, you can relax. You can work off the vibe he wants to set, which is always positive. You can follow his lead, which has never guided you off course. You can trust and let go with him.

So you do so. You let your shoulders relax and be guided by Hoseok as he saunters up to the entrance of the bar lounge. You squeeze his hand once as you step inside, giving him a thankful smile when he turns a raised eyebrow in your direction. He simply smiles as bright as always, a giving a playful wink as he heads to the bar.

The lounge is subtle in its glamour. There’s low lighting and plentiful seating spaced out across an open concept. The bar is carved wood, sitting in the middle so guests can approach the tower of liquor and wines from all sides. But upon closer look, it’s obvious why Hoseok enjoys this place with his expensive tastes.

Your reflection is almost a mirror in the shined surface of the bar, always wiped down by staff in attire that barely has a crease in the sleeves despite the hours of working. The seating that’s strewn about is filled with plush, understated chairs and loveseats, sitting on plush, red carpet that always looks brand new. The room should be filled with the chatter of all the attendees who are also dressed for a good night out, but the soundproofing of the ceiling and the decorative chandeliers that should appear gaudy but somehow accent the simplicity of all that’s below keep the space feeling intimate.

You and Hoseok are much the same as he seats you at the bar. His white shirt and slacks contrast your red dress, yet he bends into your every move as he flits about you. His hand slides down your back as he chats with the bartender and laughs at his own joke. He leans over your shoulder as he grabs one of the drinks before he slides into the seat next to you, placing it in your hand.

“Drink up, you deserve it,” he says with the slight hint of a pout creasing his brow. You nod, letting the syrupy drink perk up your spirits. Without noticing, sitting down and gazing around the place had let the exhaustion from the week start to settle in. Hoseok watched as you took another sip, hand casually rounding over your thigh to keep you present with his teasing touch.

“Still feel like having fun?” He asks, then corrects, “staying home will be just as fun for me.”

You shake your head. “No, sir, I’m fine.”

Hoseok’s eyes darken at that, his lips parting at your appeal. Sir, it’s not a name you usually bring out without his instruction. But you can tell in his gaze that’s getting harder and harder to hold that he’s excited by the call.

The hand on your thigh grips a bit tighter, shifts a bit higher, and you steady the glass in your hand as he leans forward, “Keep talking like that, looking like this, and I’m going to have a hard time sharing you with anyone else.”

You shiver as his breath tickles your ear. He sits back with an impatient sigh and starts to scan the place. “Time to play.”

You try to sit a little taller, pulling your elbows back as you take another sip of your drink. Hoseok keeps his eye on you, but he continues to watch the bar. After a few minutes and ordering his own drink, he leans in again.

With a tilt of his head, he asks, “How do you feel about blonds?”

“Blonds are nice.”

“This one’s really nice,” Hoseok tries to hold back his smile. He wants to feign casual conversation with you. It makes your heart race, like the prospect could be close. You turn more towards him, but he stops you while still looking over your shoulder. “Why don’t you take a sip of your drink, princessa.”

You glance down at the ice in your glass, not quite sure what he’s getting at. You bring it slowly to your lips and close your eyes. Licking the wet droplets off your lips, you set it down.

“He liked that,” Hoseok murmurs, starting to withdraw his hand from your thigh. Then suddenly, “Oh?”

You want to turn and see this mystery man, but Hoseok continues to hold you there. You pout, close to breaking your oath of silence.

Hoseok relents, adjusting the opening of his shirt. “This may be easier than I thought. I think he likes me, too.”

You snort. Hoseok had an overwhelming cockiness when he was in a comfortable space. You could see it oozing from the proud, upturned frown on his face as he brushed off his slacks to stand.

His fingers dance across your shoulders before he whispers, “Wait right here.”

As he walks away, you finally have the chance to sneak a peak.

Oh.

Standing on the far end of the bar is the only blond. The bleached hair is striking in the low light and contrasts with his black suit. Hoseok makes his way over, so the man stares deliberately forward. He flexes his philtrum, plush lips rolling as he considers something in the tower of beverages. Even from here, you see a blush on the tips of his ears.

He knows he’s been caught staring.

Hoseok says something, and the man’s nerves vanish as he breaks into a casual smile. Hoseok’s stance stiffens, which makes your stomach flip. He is also interested.

The blond is taller, leaning back on the counter once he realizes Hoseok is there for conversation. His stance is inviting as he makes Hoseok laugh, who slaps the counter in good fun… then leaves his hand there.

It was bold. Hoseok leans on the bar, close to the man, so close that he has to hold his drink to his chest. The stranger’s broad shoulders somehow shrink against Hoseok’s prowess. The sharp edge of Hoseok’s profile parallels the other’s soft cheeks swollen with a smile.

And then, they glance your way. You startle but smile. The blond blinks, and Hoseok smiles wider. He whispers in the other’s ear. The blond’s cheeks start to match the plush carpet under your bar stool as his eyes wander down what he can see of you.

He nods.

You bite your lip from squealing, and the stranger’s eyes dart away. Hoseok’s hand moves from the bar to the man’s waist, and his body shifts into his as he leads him over to you. He’s snared by Hoseok.

He’s having trouble holding your gaze as well. You could see the slight clench in his jaw as he continues to drink in the vision of you. Hoseok guides him to stand next to you, him on the other side, leaning an elbow on the bar.

“This is Seokjin,” Hoseok introduces with a clap on his shoulder.

Seokjin nods after jumping from the touch. His dark eyes finally meet yours, and a light voice greets, “You can call me Jin. Nice to meet you.”

You nod, unsure if you are allowed to talk. The gleeful look on Hoseok’s face says no.

“I’ve explained to Jin what we are looking for,” Hoseok continues, “and he’s interested.”

That brings you here, hands in your lap, waiting for what’s next. Jin sits across from you in the arm chair, posture stiff with nerves. Still, he smiles when you catch his eye.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Hoseok calls from the kitchen. You hear the sound of ice clinking into a glass or two followed by the slush of liquid. “My favorite little doll. All dressed up.”

“She’s beautiful,” Jin agrees. His eyes don’t leave you, and you shiver at the dissociation of not being addressed.

Footsteps have you sitting impossibly straighter as Hoseok hums. “Don’t I know it.”

There’s warmth behind you, the press of his body standing directly behind you. Hoseok reaches over you to hand Jin his drink, and you inhale his scent. It mingles with the fruitier scent of Jin’s cologne as he reaches for the drink, and your legs adjust at the thought of your skin being awash with both of them.

Chilly fingers have you flinching as Hoseok tucks your hair over your shoulder. “I dressed her up just for tonight.”

Jin takes a sip, eyes flicking up to Hoseok now. “You did a good job.”

Hoseok chuckles as his hand rests on your shoulder. “Yes. But you know, there’s an art to dressing someone. Because eventually, they’ll have to be undressed…” his fingers fiddle with the strap of your dress and you squirm. “And you should see how she looks underneath.”

“I’d love to,” Jin responds with another short answer. But as you watch him take another sip, you see the shake of his hand. You can’t help but smirk. It’s Hoseok or you or both of you. Something has those pristine features on edge. You feel powerful, even as a toy.

Hoseok seems to catch what you see, patting your shoulder as he walks around the couch. You expect him to sit with you, but instead, he walks on over to Jin. He plops down on his arm rest with an arm slung around the man’s broad shoulders.

It’s an interesting juxtaposition. The slim frame of Hoseok next to Jin’s larger body. He’s practically hanging off of him, but the carefree smile shows who has the upperhand as Jin clutches his glass with both hands.

“Seokjin,” Hoseok says, the endearing smile creasing his eyes. Jin startles at his own name, glancing at Hoseok who withdraws his hand and sits as respectfully as one can when perched on the armrest. “Are you still okay with this? I can play alone.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and with his head turned, you can see his adam’s apple bob in his strong neck which flushes pink. “Ah, no, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Hoseok checks, though now he reaches to brush the back of his hand across his cheek to point out the blush. When Jin’s lashes flutter, your stomach curls in anticipation. He’s been caught under Hoseok’s easy spell.

“No, I… want to do this, too,” Jin nods, eyeing you as well. “I’d love to.”

Hoseok pats his cheek, “Good boy.”

Jin’s breath catches. Hoseok’s smile grows, hand running into his blond hair as he leans in close. “You like that? Want to be a good boy?”

His cheeks burn redder, and you know it is too soon for it to be the alcohol. “Yes.”

Hoseok chuckles, looking absolutely delighted. Wrapping his arm back around him, he leans in to smoosh their cheeks together turned toward you. And it’s a lot, to have the gaze of two beautiful men. He points toward you. “See my beautiful princessa over there?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes harden.

“I need you to be good for her tonight,” Hoseok says, voice low. “And she’s such a good girl herself, she makes it so easy.”

“I can do that,” Jin sounds breathless.

And just like that, Hoseok hops up, grabbing his drink from the coffee table. “Fantastic!”

He throws it back, letting the syrupy drink spill from the sides of his lips. Jin follows suit, trying to finish his drink quickly.

It was time to start the show.

Hoseok straightens up, cracking his neck. He takes a deep, steadying breath and orders, “Stand.”

You straighten at the command. You don’t expect Jin to do the same. Hoseok neither, if the laugh he lets out is anything to go by.

Jin blushes widely, going to sit, but Hoseok waves him over. “No, no, that was great. You are already doing so well.”

He turns to you. “Look, princessa, he’ll be so good for us.”

You smile at him, enjoying the fact that you don’t need to do more. Hoseok wraps his arm around his waist and pulls you close. “You see, Jin. She’s so obedient. Does whatever she’s told like a good little doll.”

He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Spin for me, darling.”

Your breath shudders out as you grab the edges of your dress, placing your heels one over the other as you turn. When you make it around once, you don’t stop. He didn’t tell you to. You keep spinning, feeling both men take in your every angle. And with each rotation, you see the hunger in their gaze grow.

Stopping you as you face the kitchen, away from them, the featherlight touch of his fingers ghosts over and up your back. “Most dolls, you know, they have a string in the back.”

His finger hooks in the small zipper at the top of the dress. He tugs lightly, and it starts to descend down your back. “You pull it, and they make a sound.”

He stares down at you, eyes filled with excitement. “She’s strung so tight, and it’s our job to unravel her.”

Your knees weaken at that, especially when Hoseok pulls the zipper down a bit further, “One thread at a time. Think you can do that, big guy?”

Jin nods dumbly, hands unsure of how to busy themselves, desperate to be on you now.

But Hoseok doesn’t beckon him closer just yet.

“The sounds she makes, Jin…” Hoseok grips your chin and turns your face to him. Then, his hot breath ghosts over your neck. The wet heat of his tongue flattens along the column of your neck. Your breath catches in your throat, fingers gripping his shirt. Jin’s own hands twitch again, body leaning in towards the two of you, wetting his lips.

When Hoseok sinks his teeth in, you whine, lips parting in surprise. Jin’s do the same, entranced.

Hoseok straightens back up, looking between you two. Your cheeks burn at the pleasure, at being caught staring elsewhere, at the way Hoseok likes it.

“That’s your job, Jin,” he instructs and takes a step back. You feel cold, from the wetness on your neck to the lack of a body to hold onto. Hoseok seats himself on the closest armrest, looking between the two of you expectantly. “Pull her strings, make her moan.”

You eye Hoseok, remembering your earlier command. Only speak when spoken to. But he just nods. “It’s okay, mi princessa. Let him know if he’s doing good.”

Feeling your knees shake, you face Jin. As he steps closer, you’re surprised by just how much taller he is. You angle your gaze, not sure what to do.

But then you remember, you aren’t supposed to do anything. You are allowed and content to just stand there and await instructions. Hoseok is in control.

“Touch her, Jin,” he instructs.

“Anywhere?” He asks with a shuddering exhale.

“Awh, not even sure where to begin?” Hoseok coos from the couch, crossing his legs. You both look over at your boyfriend, pleased as can be with his two props. “Undress her.”

Jin’s cheeks darken and so do his deep, brown eyes. He swallows, and you try to do the same. Your mouth is dry, the back of your throat feeling sticky. You grip your hands tighter in the dress, nerves having you jittery.

You feel so wanted just as you are, standing here, doing as you’re told, with two men ready to ravage you.

Jin finally, finally touches you. He steps into your space, the distance gone as your red dress brushes his dress shirt, taut over his shoulders as he reaches behind you. Your eyes drift close as you inhale deep again. Something fruity.

And with the sense removed, your aware of the sound of his breathing, deliberately steady. The light scrape of his fingernails as he trails down your spine in search of the zipper. The loosening tug of the dress around your hips as the zipper dips lower, the only sound in the room.

Then Jin’s hands are tracing your arms, appreciating the soft skin and kneading just below your shoulders. Appreciating all of you that is his just for the moment. He slips his hands under the straps of your dress and takes a step back to watch it fall down your waist, a slight shimmy to get it over your hips.

“Wow,” Jin breathes.

Hoseok agrees with a pleased hum. You can imagine the smirk on his face, knowing his handiwork is being admired. It makes you stand taller, feeling beautiful in the outfit he’s chosen for you. The garter digs into your supple waist and the bra clings to your skin, and suddenly it all feels like you are wearing too much.

You want that gaze and so much more to cover your bare skin.

And Hoseok knows just as much, how you like to be smothered in affection and touch. He stands beside Jin now and leans over his shoulder to turn you towards the bedroom door. “Head on back to the bedroom, princessa.”

You take one step in front of the other, realizing your nerves are getting the better of you as you sway a bit. You want to turn back, see the look on both their faces. Are you imagining it, or do they like what they see?

That’s not an option, though. Not when you’ve been given an order. And tonight, that’s all you are. A doll that obeys every command. A plaything at their disposal.

“Look at that,” Hoseok admires, his voice still close, letting you know he’s there. “Isn’t she a sight?”

“Yes,” Jin’s short but breathy replies continue. They’re following close behind, observing the sway of your hips, the lines of your body shifting as you step into the room.

“She’s so fucking sexy,” Hoseok sighs like it’s almost too much to bear. A smile breaks over your face that you try to hold back as you reach the bed.

You turn and lower yourself to the mattress. Hoseok walks over to cup the side of your face, smiling down too gently for what is to come. His eyes still give way to the heat, the anticipation.

But he still asks, ever with your best interest in mind, “Are you ready, my pretty little doll?”

“Yes,” you startle at the sound of your own voice. You’d spent so long being quiet that it almost sounds foreign.

Hoseok’s smile broadens, his eyes creasing with delight. His palm slips to the nape of your neck, thumb brushing over the column of your throat. “Want to let Jin treat you like his favorite little play thing?”

Your eyes dart to the man still standing in the doorframe. His broad shoulder almost fill the space and block out the white light of the kitchen so the room is only filled with the warmth of your bedside lamps. His cheeks are still that light pink, but his lips are wet and parted. His gaze meets yours and the hunger sends a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” you make sure you lock eyes as you consent to the night’s activities.

Hoseok waves Jin over. He towers over you, and the smallness is almost comforting.

“On the bed,” Hoseok instructs. As you scoot up the bed, Hoseok leans against the wall between the two of you. Jin watches you scoot back, hands at his side, chests rising and falling. Hoseok, on the other hand, crosses his arms, raising a tentative eyebrow. You stretch out on the bed, enjoying the tension between the two men.

Jin gets the hint, though. Hoseok isn’t the kind to repeat an order. He’s to be obeyed.

And Jin must catch the sternness because he lowers himself to the bed, crawling over you. His knees cage you in, palms on either side as he looks down over you.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

You smile up at him, almost giggling at the cuteness.

“Can I…” his eyes wander again, tongue wetting his lips. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip. “Yes.”

The permission from you seems to be all he needs. Suddenly, he’s leaning back on his heels. You almost follow before you break into a moan.

Two large, warm hands cup your breasts, kneading hard. The pads of his thumbs brush through the thin, lace fabric and your body arches into his touch.

“Nice work,” Hoseok muses from his place on the wall.

Jin moves then, hands dipping behind your back. The ease with which he pulls you off the bed is shocking, feeling light in his arms. He can handle you in a way that Hoseok can’t, his build letting him easily drag you off the mattress to unclasp your bra. As soon as it falls from your shoulders, he pulls you in close. The fabric of his starched dress shirt brushes your bare nipples.

But you want more, want his bare skin against yours. He doesn’t oblige, though, but what he gives you instead is so much more.

Wide eyes hesitate before yours, hot breath brushing over your cheek, before Jin’s plush lips take your own. It’s shockingly desperate and unexpected. The entire evening, he’d been tentative and unsure, following Hoseok’s every move. But now, with you bared before him and so close, it’s as though he can’t hold back. He lays you against the bed again, body molding to yours, tongue licking at your bottom lip.

This is where you want to be. Pliant and wanted, strewn out on the mattress below a man desperate to ravish you. You moan into Jin’s open mouth, tasting the sweetness of his drink at the bar and the bitterness of Hoseok’s whiskey as his tongue lathes into your mouth. Your knee drags up involuntarily at the feeling of his cock growing harder against your thigh.

“Fuck,” Jin groans as you whine against the sensation that’s good but not good enough.

“Help her out, will you?” Hoseok’s taunting voice comes from the sidelines. Your cheeks burn, forgetting his right there watching you act of your own accord. “She’s being so fucking needy, can’t you tell?”

Jin pulls back, embarrassment etched into his brow. “Sorry.”

His hands grip your hips to roll them against him as he mouths at your neck. Jin’s hands are larger than Hoseok’s, but his touch is gentler. The tentative nerves of encountering someone new. But he explores with confidence, warm palms gliding over the sides of your body. You exhale in contentment, feeling your body give.

It spurs Jin on, leaning forward. The wet press of his lips greets the center of your chest. When you arch into it, he mouths at your supple skin.

“He’s a tease, is he?” Hoseok’s voice breaks through the lust drifting over the bed. You turn your gaze to him as he walks over. His eyes are on you as he talks to Jin. “Look at the way he touches you. Such a gentleman.”

Jin also gives a glance to Hoseok, eyes dark beneath blond fringe and cheeks flushed still. He continues on when Hoseok gives him a small nod. “Don’t worry, she likes it.”

His fingers thread through your hair, and your eyes fall closed again. It’s already overwhelming, your temple meeting Hoseok’s thigh as he sits, the scratching to your scalp, the warm press of Jin’s body over you.

Hoseok’s hand tightens suddenly. You yelp, the tingle in your scalp shocking but delicious. “She likes it all, Jin. She’ll take whatever she can get.”

“Is that so?” You shiver at the dip in Jin’s voice.

“Your body’s gorgeous,” Jin whispers into your collarbone. You squirm in the sheets at the direct attention.

“Isn’t it?” Hoseok muses, too. You open your eyes again to see him staring down at you. The mischievous tilt to his smile doesn’t match the softness in his eyes. “My favorite little play thing.”

Caught up in Hoseok’s praise, the wet mouth on your nipple takes you by surprise. Even more, Jin scissors your other nipple with a surprising harshness. At the site of your blissed out expression, the heat in Hoseok’s gaze hardens.

“Fuck her, Jin.”

You moan at the command that’s not even directed at you. Hoseok’s usually patient. He takes his time in ways that leaves you aching for more even after he finally lets you have it. The fact that he’s already demanding his cock has your legs spreading wider, ready.

“See,” Hoseok nods towards your thighs when Jin sits back on his heels. “She wants it so bad. She deserves it, too.”

Jin scoots down your body, hands fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. “God, and I’ll give it to her.”

Hoseok hums delightedly. “Hear that, princessa? He’s going to fuck you so good.”

You smile, the lightest giggle dancing behind your lips as Jin’s grip in the hem of your panties tickles the soft skin by your hips. He drags them down slow, raising your legs as he pulls them off.

When your legs are free, they fall onto one of his broad shoulders. You cross them at the heel only to realize he’s so broad, there’s no need.

He wraps an arm around your legs, kneading at your calves as he shuffles over.

“Fuck, look at the two of you,” Hoseok breathes, hand stilling in your hair.

And you do. You glance down at your bare body, where it meets and follows the curves and strong arches of Jin’s own. And then you turn your gaze upward, where your boyfriend sits beside you fully clothed. A spectator, a director.

“Do you like what you see?” Jin’s voice asks quietly.

Hoseok doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches forward, cupping the nape of Jin’s neck, and pulls him in. It’s messy, their tongues twisting between lips and behind teeths as Jin starts to melt, the grip on your legs slipping. You feel yourself slipping, too, at the sight of your boyfriend taking and taking from him and seeing Jin give and give.

They part, and Hoseok’s cheeks have finally reddened as he settles against the headboard beside you.

Wordlessly, Jin hikes your legs a little higher on his shoulder. Then, you feel the blunt head of his cock press against your wet core. He throws his head back immediately, moaning at the feeling of how wet you are after waiting for this all night. He pushes in, slowly at first, and the stretch has you grabbing at the sheets already. You can feel the head press further, your walls alight with sensation as he bottoms at. Even the slight shuffle of his hips for a better grounding has a whine seeping between your teeth.

“God, she’s going to come soon,” Hoseok chuckles. You feel embarrassed, but you relish the way he continues to look at you both.

Jin pulls back slowly, but the hard thrust he gives you takes you off guard. You cry out, and he does it again. Your eyes roll back, the sweet sensation and the jostling of his force. The pressure from the thrusts has your clit stimulated as your body twists.

Jin’s mouthing at the heel of your foot, and it’s so surprisingly sensitive, your toes curl.

But you lose control of what sensation comes where when Hoseok reaches down to twist one of your purt nipples. Your chest recoils but your back arches, undecided in where to focus. Everything feels good, so good, and you’re thinking about nothing but bliss, but arousal and a need for release.

It’s only moments before your groaning, jaw locked, feeling the heat rise from your core and flood over you. Jin’s thrusts don’t slow, an unpredictable pattern as he feels you clench around him, and the feeling of being fucked by someone who doesn’t know your body quite as well has the heat coiling hot and spurting in long waves.

It knocks the breath out of you. Only when you regain the feeling of your breath do you hear yourself whimpering against the girth of his cock against your sensitive walls.

“Shh,” Hoseok chides, a hand on Jin’s shoulder asking him to stop. “That was so good, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nod quickly, trying to catch your breath. Then, you look at Jin to reassure him. “So good.”

“My turn?” Hoseok asks, and despite the pulsing of your core, you already find yourself aching for me. You nod quickly again.

“God, you’re so good for us,” Hoseok leans over to kiss your forehead. “Think you can handle both of us?”

You nod again, lips loose but nothing coming out. You’d take them anyway.

“Flip her over.”

Your legs drop to the bed, and Jin’s large hands grip your waist. He kisses your shoulder as he leans in to lift you up and over. Your knees hit the sheets, but Jin takes the time to align them for you, lowering you down gently.

“You handle her so well,” Hoseok says, and you can hear a kind of gratitude in his voice.

“Like you said,” Jin responds, “she deserves it.”

“True, she took your cock so well,” Hoseok says. “Fat cock like yours, probably makes all the girls cry.”

“Not this one,” Jin’s voice from behind you sounds a bit bashful.

“Not yet.”

You groan at that, Hoseok’s hand tracing down your back to let you know where he is. But he gets off the bed.

“Come here.”

You turn, not sure who he’s talking to. But you feel the bed move behind you, and then Jin is standing in front of Hoseok. They take a moment, then Jin’s unbuttoning his shirt. As he opens each button, he places a kiss on the new skin exposed. He watches Hoseok who rests his hands on his bare waist. He unbuttons his slacks, letting them fall to the floor. Then, he’s tugging down Hoseok’s boxer briefs. Once free, his curved cock bobs next to Jin’s thick, heavy cock.

“If you’re going to fuck her again, might need a little help,” Hoseok says, and you can see his wink from here. Your heart swoops as your boyfriend drops to his knees. And your stomach drops when he finds your gaze, holds it, and grips Jin’s cock. He sticks out his tongue, opening his mouth, and takes Jin as far as he can. You see the squint in his eyes as he accommodates before they roll back, enjoying the taste of another man’s cocked soaked in your juices.

Your knees shake as you watch. Jin’s, too, from the looks of it. Hoseok pulls off after only a few sucks and spits onto the end of his cock, letting it drip from his lips and smears it down his cock. He stands, placing his finger under Jin’s chin to give him a chaste kiss. “There, that’s better.”

Jin doesn’t even answer, just dumbly nods as you would. Then both men are crawling back onto the bed. You feel their hands on your body, letting them know where you are, and you’re torn between leaning into Hoseok’s hand under your chin or back into Jin’s hips.

“Fuck her good just like last time,” Hoseok’s voice comes from above. You close your eyes as Jin’s cock traces between your folds, knowing that the new wet sensation is Hoseok’s saliva. And then Hoseok’s gripping your shoulders, lifting you onto your elbows. His legs dip wide, all those years of yoga paying off.

You whine as Jin presses in again, the sensitivity overwhelming but leaving you needy.

With a finger under your chin just like he’d done with Jin, Hoseok tilts your head to his gaze, which is hard to meet when his cock brushes your cheek. “Think you can take my cock while he fucks you?”

You don’t answer. You let your tongue hang as you search for Hoseok’s cock again, turning your head at awkward angles. He swears under his breath then guides you onto his cock. Jin slows to make the alignment easier, but the movement as you shuffle on your elbows has his cock pulsing inside you.

“Damn, look at you,” Hoseok murmurs. “Taking what you need. Sucking me raw and sucking him in.”

You moan, the heady taste of Hoseok’s cock filling your senses. Then you’re reminded of the cock between your thighs, firm hands on your hips, and everything mixes together again. The last touch is Hoseok’s hand under your throat, feeling his cock brush by.

Jin thrusts again, but slower, more steady, deeper. You choke on a moan and feel drool slip from your mouth and down Hoseok’s cock.

“Good, just breathe for me, princessa” Hoseok says in a low voice, rocking his hips slowly. You don’t need to do anything but breathe. They both move, holding you steady, and you let your jaw hang open, let your knees relax as Jin holds you upright.

They rock into you, cock rubbing the back of your throat and the other brushing your gspot. And you feel it coming again. You whine, whimper, and feel your elbows start to collapse as your next orgasm rocks through you, your clit pulsing against the lack of attention, your body moving forward away from Jin’s relentless thrusts only to choke on Hoseok’s cock. It’s so much, so good.

Then Hoseok’s swearing and coming. You feel the hot stickiness spill down your throat, probably taken by surprise at your attempts to swallow down air. It’s the sweetest kind of victory, to fill his load spill into your mouth involuntarily, to know you work him over that good. You lap it up, trying to swallow, to take him deeper, but it’s too much. Not when Jin jostles you forward, and your eager mouth chokes on the lack of air. You whimper, unable to catch a breath.

“Hey, hey,” Hoseok responds when you whimper and choke. He pulls out, but that’s not what you want. You feel half empty, in need of being overtaken, of being nothing but their doll.

“Please,” you finally speak on your own, voice raspy, and Jin groans at the need in your voice. You only now notice the soothing circles he rubs into your hips.

Hoseok strokes your cheeks, pulls your hair out of your face, and directs Jin once again, “Pull her up.”

Your brain feels dizzy as warm hands wrap around your waist and pull you up right. You gasp, pressed against Jin’s chest. His skin is damp with exertion, but you smell that sweet floral scent. And as Hoseok shuffles forward to be chest to chest as well, you take in his smell as well. It mingles around you, dizzying, and you drop your head to Jin’s shoulder with a sigh.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you?” Hoseok purs, grabbing Jin’s hands and repositioning them over your breasts. You moan as he takes the hint, kneading hard as he starts to thrust again. You whimper, the sensation almost too much now.

Hoseok cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your cheeks from deepthroating. “Can you give me one more, princessa? Cum for me one more time?”

You sob around your yes, body wracked with relief and the exhaustion starting to set into your bones in a warm, fuzzy kind of way. Hoseok kisses you as Jin picks up the pace. And the faster Jin goes, the more intense Hoseok’s kisses become. You’re pliant to his mouth, letting his tongue dip deep, moaning openly as you feel the two men take apart every part of your body.

And then, Hoseok’s mouthing at your jaw, down your neck, his hands moving lower, until his slim fingers scissor around your clit, close enough to have your hips bucking but not enough to make it sting.

And you hear moaning. You realize Hoseok’s kissing Jin over your shoulder, the other man’s thrusts becoming distracted, erratic. His grip on your breasts gets tighter, and Hoseok holds your hip to keep you in place as he rolls small circles around your clit. He’s so focused despite occupied with both of you, and you just let your head fall back, hearing the two men moan over your own gasps and whimpers, hot and sticky between them, and you cum again. It’s short, hot, and burns in the best way possible as you dig your fingers into Hoseok’s biceps for support.

Jin swears behind you, and Hoseok tells him he can come. It’s almost instant, and you feel his hips still just as your body starts to ride into overstimulation. He lowers his hands as he shivers, rubbing over your rib cage, Hoseok’s hands back on your face, wiping away more tears.

You don’t remember when you closed your eyes, but when you open them, you can’t believe how wrecked he looks. There’s a sated hunger in his hooded eyes, but his lips are red, hair mussed, chest still heaving despite coming before both of you. It’s a lot to take in, but you find your eyes falling closed again.

“Okay, come on,” Hoseok coos, and you realize he’s talking to both of you as Jin gently pulls out of you, and you fall forward onto Hoseok. He guides you down onto the bed, and Jin falls opposite you. Hoseok rolls to the bedside table, opens a bottle of water, and passes it to Jin for a sip.

Hoseok holds his hand to take the bottle back, but to both your surprise, Jin gently turns your face in his direction, holding the bottle to your lips for a drink. It’s refreshing, after the tears and the deepthroating and the exertion. And despite the crispness of the water, your chest feels warm at the endearment of the stranger. And when he tips the bottle back and hands it to Hoseok, you see the same feeling in his expression.

Hoseok settles in, throwing a leg over the both of you. Out of the scene, his easy going smile spreads across his face. “That was fun.”

You giggle, rubbing a hand over both the men’s hips as they turn into you. “Of course it was. Thanks for that.”

“Oh,” Jin starts, sleepy eyes opening.

You both look over, and he blushes. “I just… I haven’t heard your voice much and it sounds nice.”

Your face burns, but Hoseok’s laughing so hard the bed shakes. “Oh, I think he likes you!”

“I mean,” Jin blushes again, starting to sit up. “I just fucked you, so to some extent.”

“Awh, he’s being shy now, too!” Hoseok continues to giggle, but you note the awkwardness in Jin’s body language. Hoseok’s usually a good judge of social settings, but the postcoital bliss has him a little too carefree.

“I like your voice, too,” you try, but the compliment feels awkward. Jin gives an awkward smile to match, then moves to the edge of the bed.

“I guess I should, uh, go now,” he says. And it’s odd. There was a kind of excitement to his nervousness before but this feels different.

And you feel different. You and Hoseok have done this before, but this guy was… great. The best. There was something nice, from the way you watched them chat it up to how well he read your needs.

“Wait,” Hoseok says before you can. Your head whips around in mild surprise to hear it from him. Hoseok gives you a look, a question, and you nod. Always on the same wavelength, still. “I was going to order some wings. She always orders a ton but never finishes. Want to help out?”

Jin turns from where he faces away, his eyes a little too wide, a little hopeful. And something in it makes your heart twist. Hoseok’s grip on your waist tightens just a bit, too. Interest.

“You don’t have to,” Jin mumbles.

“I want to,” you chime in now. “Plus, that was way too short for cuddling. Now I’m cold.”

Jin snorts at that. Tension eases from his shoulders, and he rolls back over. Hoseok pulls him close, fussing over the both of you as he throws one of the blankets on top of your naked bodies.

And it’s new, but it feels familiar. A stranger in your bed shouldn’t feel so comfortable, but there’s something about the way Jin hums when Hoseok ruffles his hair and how he knows just where to fit his arm over the curve of your waist. It makes you want this again already.

Maybe you could. Especially when you roll over to see Hoseok’s mischievous grin back on his face. Maybe this will be something more.

Characters only borrow name and likeness from the members. Do not copy, translate, repost, or reuse this work.

#2seok x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #working double time #armyadvocatesaapi

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tatooedlaura-blog · 3 years

Text

End of the Road

post-Redux/Redux 2

... their moments ... from now on ... Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins Chapter 8: End of the Road (post-Redux/Redux 2)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He put her through hell the next two weeks and finally, seeing her on the other side of the hospital window, he splintered, leaning forward, unable to breath, overwhelming sorrow manifesting in yelled demands of people who couldn’t answer his pleas.

He thought he was quiet at her bedside that night, the world bearing down on both of them, but as he sobbed into her sheets, he felt her hand drift though his hair, nails lightly scratching scalp, “it might be a little tight, but I think we’ll both fit if we try.”

Mess that he was, he stood, dragged his hands over his face to clear away at least some of the nonsense before disappearing to blow his nose on some toilet paper from the bathroom. Coming back in, he shuffled towards her, whispering, “I snuck in. What if I fall asleep and can’t sneak back out?”

“I’m dying, Mulder. I can do what I want and right now, I want you in here with me.”

Deep breath of acceptance at her now-undeniable retort, he did as ordered, wedging himself behind her, back to front, arm hesitant over her belly, full length curl around her. He could feel her ribs against his forearm, her bony hip under his elbow, sharp shoulder blades pressing his chest, “we need to get you a milkshake.”

“If I could keep one down, I’d send you right now but puking up ice cream will just ruin it.”

“I see your point.” Sniffing latent snot back up his nose, he apologized, then, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Soaking up his warmth like a sponge, “I’m not sleeping that well these days anyway, and …” running off into oblivion, she finished the sentence a moment later, “well, I’d rather spend all the time I can with you, even if it’s at whatever the hell time it is and in a hospital bed.”

“A good cuddle does have its merits.”

That got a smile from her, “thank you.”

“For what?”

This time she found the words she couldn’t after he made her dinner, “for doing all those things that a partner would do; that a husband, a best friend, that family would do.”

Well, that made his heart break for the hundredth time that day, and mouth to neck yet again, his words rustled her hair and vibrated her soul, “well, you are my partner and my best friend, which makes us family and I think I fit the category of work husband so I’ve got all the bases covered.”

Reaching for his hand, she pulled it up to her face, kissing his knuckles before tucking it under her cheek, “we need to talk about a few things.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“Yes, we do. Let me take the fall, please? I need to know you’re okay once I’m gone.”

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

“We can have that argument tomorrow. Right now, just let me enjoy this, all right?”

She heard his mental screams of ‘Stop It!’ and she did, nodding against his hand, “all right but tomorrow, you’re listening to me.”

Wanting to cocoon her, tuck her inside himself, hide her away so the cancer and the fear and the reality of it all couldn’t find her, he hugged her closer, spooned behind her tight, “maybe.” That’s as good as she would get tonight and accepting it, she did her best to forget everything but the moment. A pleasant ‘hmm’ purred out a minute later and, hearing it as well as feeling it against his chest, “what was that for?”

Not realizing she’d made the sound until it was too late, “living in my moment, Mulder.”

“Our moment.”

For half a second, she wanted to cry, “You’re right. Our moment.”

&&&&&&&&&

He was gone when she woke up, the nurse checking on her telling her quietly, “he snuck out about 20 minutes ago.” Seeing her still sleepy look of disappointment, she smiled, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you; he’ll be back.”

Alone a moment later, she tried to work herself into a rage because he left without saying good-bye and without talking to her like she’d asked but, in the end, it was Mulder and she really should have expected it. Returning to her side, facing the door, she shut her eyes, imagining he was still behind her.

&&&&&&&&&&

He appeared the next day, glass vial offering a last-ditch effort in his fight to save her. He watched her argue with her family, fight her doctors, grasp onto a fading hope without which, she would be forced to make him sit, discuss funeral arrangements, ask him to give up while holding her hand.

&&&&&&&&&&

First Skinner left her room, then her brother, then, finally, Maggie, who gave him a hug and told him, without words but the slightest of head nods, that Scully was inside waiting for him. He gave it another minute, still processing, still gripping the bloody picture, still marveling at the news that was, indeed, real.

Opening her door slowly, the first thing he saw was not a smile but her piercing gaze that ranged in interpretation, over the years, from raging irritation to unbridled happiness. Todays was more of a confused relief bordering on reserved elation, “Mom says you’ve been sitting in the hallway.”

“Your mother deserved the first hug.”

“Are you going to be my third?”

“Patience, woman. I give you a hug now, we’ll both be crying for the next hour.” Shooting her his first mischievous grin in months, “I am breaking all kinds of rules still being here. Three people have asked me to leave already.”

She’d been prepared to talk for a few minutes, then go to sleep but suddenly, that wasn’t cutting it anymore, “You want to go for a drive?”

Finally approaching her, he pressed his thighs against the edge of the bed, leaning just enough forward but keeping his hands in his pockets, schoolboy asking a question of his favorite girl, “your place or mine?”

She hadn’t even thought that far ahead in the discussion but now that it was out there, hanging in the air, she gave him a smile, “your place. We haven’t been there in awhile.”

“Luckily I just changed the sheets a few days ago.”

Holding eye contact, swearing for one second she could actually see into his soul, she found herself moving her legs, bumping into Mulder as she sat upright, slid off the bed, “go find me my clothes.”

They didn’t so much sneak from the hospital as walk out, quietly, Scully’s bag in Mulder’s one hand, Mulder’s other on her back, pressed to muscle and bone, fingers loose-gripping the back of her shirt. No one said a word, elevator their immediate destination, anywhere else in the world their quest. The air was balmy, the breeze light, and Scully stopped the moment the automatic doors shut behind her, inhaling deep.

Mulder, nearly knocking her over, suddenly panicked, “what? What’s wrong?”

Her head spun, giddy and light, “just … overwhelmed for a minute.”

“Do you need to go back inside?”

Shaking her head vehemently, “no … no, I just … your place, please.”

“Food first?”

“No. I … that’s too much right now.” Looking up at her partner, suddenly exhausted, “a bed would be nice and some drugs when we get to your place.”

“Home it is, then.” He valeted the car, tucked her inside, and drove away, aiming towards his apartment. She was dozing by the second turn and fully asleep by the time he pulled up to the curb. Crouching beside her open passenger door, hand on thigh, voice low, he began coaxing her in a soft voice reserved for just such occasions, “hey, Scully? Wake up. We’re here and you’ve gotta stay awake long enough to deal with the front steps and the elevator.”

Blinking her eyes open, they rolled around for a moment before focusing, “okay. Don’t let me fall down.”

“Never.”

He wanted to laugh at her swaying walk, likening it to her drunken trek a year ago at her mother’s surprise birthday party. Not saying that aloud, however, he steered her to his door then inside.

He set her bag down, then took her coat, hanging it before heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water so she could take her meds and lay down. Asking over his shoulder what type of pain killer she wanted, he glanced back when she didn’t answer. Finding her still rooted to her spot beside the hat rack, he stopped, took in the tears already rolling, then held out his hand, waving her towards him, “come here.” She did, shuffling, leaving shoes behind and walking into him, the collision backing him up a few steps. Accepting the momentum, he continued moving, sitting down on the arm of the couch, level with her now, arms tight around her neck, her face hidden in his shirt, “what’s wrong?”

“It can’t be real, Mulder. It can’t. It shouldn’t have worked.”

“But it did. You saw the scans.”

“But what if I go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow and it’s back?”

Shifting her away, he settled hands on cheeks, thumbs against eyebrows, painting over them lightly, absently, as he tilted her head to meet her tear-y gaze, “it won’t be but if it is, but it won’t be, we will figure it out … together … all right? We got here once and we can do it again … but we won’t have to, so don’t worry about it.”

Her hands were around his wrists, “I think you just gave me a headache.”

“I’ve been giving you headaches for four years now. What’s new?”

“This.” Leaning in, she kissed him, barely brushing his lips but setting his world on fire in the process, “I’ve got, to sound trite, a new lease on life and I’m not wasting it.” Kissing him again, before swaying dangerously to one side, “but I am going to ask that we sleep through a little bit of it because if I don’t lay down soon, I’m going to end up on your floor.”

He wiped the few remaining tears from her cheeks before he kissed her back, light but claiming, “do you mind some company?”

“I have never minded your company.” Yawning, she turned white, an immediate sweat beading on her upper lip, “but I need to lay down … now.”

Walking her to the bed, he gave her a shirt and some shorts, some drugs and a glass of water, then, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Returning with a second blanket, he found her curled, body imprint stamped on ‘her’ side of the bed forevermore. His giddiness in the moment nearly made him laugh but containing it, he settled beside her, spare blanket at their feet. His hand went to her forehead, thumb in gentle circles between her eyebrows.

It was gone.

He had her back.

And he wasn’t going to waste a minute of the time they had left.

Which was a lot longer than they’d had mere hours earlier.

He didn’t fall asleep for hours.

Watching her breathe.

&&&&&&&&&&

Neither should have been awake but when Mulder opened his eyes, he found himself staring at an empty pillow and equally empty bed. Squinting towards the dawn-grey living room and the darkened bathroom, he looked over his shoulder, finding his target standing by the open window, leaning on the frame.

Rolling over, he tucked the pillow under his head, yawning, then watching her for a minute before she felt his eyes on her and turned towards him, quiet.

His mind was open and slow, filters off, walls down, and in that very moment, the only thing he had left in the world to say was “I love you.”

Her slow spreading smile lit up the darkening room, thunder rumbling as a storm moved in. It stopped just shy of a full-on grin, then dropped back to slightly upturn lip curl, sigh deep, eyes closing for a moment to collect the proper words from the universe, before sending them drifting across to him slow and steady, “and I … finally have the time … to love you back.”

Mulder’s smile spread at the same speed hers did, pushing into the pillow, squashing face glowing, “is this another one of our moments?”

“They are all our moments from now on, Mulder. All of them.”

#msr #my writing #Our Moments series #post-Redux #cancer arc #xfiles #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #and i finally have time #for all our moments

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softtransbf · 3 years

Text

Mister Nice Guy, part 2

part one

Summary: Shit hits the fan, and the rest of the BAU is done with it.

Word Count: 3523

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Warnings: case involving targeting gay people, brief mention of a child abduction case, coming out/anxiety of experiencing transphobia (no actual transphobia though), alcohol, swearing

@aleccolocco (sorry it took so long to finish lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, that doesn't make any sense at all, doctor!" you spat his title. "He's not jealous of these couples, killing what he can't have, or a homophobe, punishing gay people for being happy. He's putting an end to their unhappy relationships. He sees it as mercy." Over the months, your cold war with Reid turned into outright conflict, and tonight, alone in the police station in Oregon, was no exception. Hotchner had tasked the two of you with presenting the preliminary profile the next morning, and it was going as well as conversations ever went.

"We have no evidence that he knows they're unhappy, though. All of his victims are clearly happy in their relationships," Reid challenged.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Please. One look at their social media and it's obvious that the relationships are on the rocks."

"Where do you get that? All I see are typical happy relationships. Selfies, checking into special events together, posts about kind things one does for the other. Nothing indicating a troubled relationship to me."

"The gentlemen doth protest too much. They're painting an overly happy painting on social media, hoping that some of that happiness will actually become real. They're desperate for the relationship to work."

"Let's say you're right. I don't think you are, but let's pretend for the sake of trying to see your logic through. Why? Why would they be so desperate to save a failing relationship?"

"God, straight men just don't fucking get it!" You went to grab a file, missing his small flinch. "You don't understand how limited the dating pool for men who are into men is. Look at the most recent couple in particular. The most lovey-dovey on social media, and got the most brutal deaths."

"Yes, because they were the happiest. My theory holds," Reid interrupted.

"No. Look, this guy put way more out there on social media than his partner, and look at the pictures he posted. Look how forced his smile is, look at the body language. He needs this relationship to work, because dating as a gay man is one thing, dating as a gay trans man is almost impossible. Having to start over and deal with transphobia over and over again is worse than being in a bad relationship. In his eyes, I mean." Shit, the first person I come out to on this team cannot be Spencer fucking Reid. He doesn't deserve the honor.

"That was yesterday. We haven't gotten the autopsy report yet. How could you possibly know that he's trans?"

"Testosterone vials and needles in the bathroom. Neither of them are old enough for a cis man to reasonably have issues that require testosterone injections. It's HRT, hormone replacement therapy."

"Even if you're right, your conclusion still seems like a much bigger jump than mine, that the killer sees the relationships as happy and is lashing out at that, be it from jealousy or homophobia."

"Whatever. You'll see tomorrow, when we talk to the M.E., that he was trans, and that fact backs me up. I am absolutely right about this, and you will eat your words. Then I will present my theory, and you can choke on yours."

"We? You anticipate us spending more time together?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I meant 'we' as in the team, asshat. The world doesn't revolve around you. Mine sure as hell doesn't. I'm gonna go back to the hotel, write my own damn preliminary profile, and try to get some fucking sleep. Clearly we won't agree on this."

"We don't ever agree on anything," he pointed out.

"Not true. We agree that we dislike each other and can't get along. Good night, doctor." You turned and walked away, not giving him a chance to respond.

This man is going to be the death of me, he thought as he watched you walk away.

The autopsy report came in the next day, and you were right. The tech team also found a locked notes app on his phone that catalogued his unhappiness and fear of leaving. You presented your preliminary profile to the team. Reid didn't even argue; he just sat in silence, leaving the room as soon as you were finished. Never one to pass up a chance to gloat for beating him, you offered to get coffee for the team, got everyone's order, and left shortly behind him.

You were expecting to catch up to him, his impossibly long legs be damned. You weren't expecting him to be waiting for you. He pulled you into an empty interrogation room and pushed you up against a wall, his face just inches from yours. It was only a moment before being flustered by the closeness and those goddamn eyes were replaced by anger.

"What the FUCK, Reid?"

"What game are you playing, Y/N? What game are we playing? What's your endgame?" He spoke quickly and softly, but there was an intensity in his voice that had you captivated.

"I'm the one playing games?" You pushed him back, away from you. "You're the one who decided to hate me before we even met. When I transferred, all I wanted was to do a good job and fit in with the team. But quite literally from the minute I walked through the door, you'd decided you hate me. Turnabout is just fair play, gorgeous." Oh, fuck.

"Gorgeous?" You walked past him to the other side of the room, running a hand through your hair and turning your back on him. "Fine. Yeah, okay? I wanted approval from the brilliant and handsome Doctor Spencer Reid. In a way that's respectful of your heterosexuality, of course." You turned around and faced him again. "But that doesn't matter, because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me right off the bat."

"What makes you think I'm straight?" He's fucking with me, now that that cat is out of the bag. Great. Fucking cishet men. Even he's no different. Thank god he still thinks I'm cis.

"Garcia mentioned in her newbie-run-down that you're 'awkward, but in a cute way, especially around women'. Plus, she mentioned that Emily is bi, leaving everyone else implied straight as even the best cishet allies are wont to do. And as we both know, Penelope knows everything.

And before you make the hearsay argument I can see forming in that brilliant head of yours, I've heard and seen too much about your impeccable memory to assume you don't remember when we all went to the bar after my first case. I was unabashedly Queer, friendly flirting with Derek and calling out cishet bullshit. When I did the latter, you literally rolled your eyes and walked away. Which is, funnily enough, some cishet bullshit.

JJ said you were just going through a thing and things would get better, but they just got worse. I'm not going to ask you to spill whatever was going on, because it's not my business, but god damn, dude. Why did you hate me so much so quickly?"

"You asked JJ about me?" He took a few steps towards you, a small smile on his face.

"That's the part you focused on? Jesus fucking Christ. Yes, I asked her about why you decided to hate me before we even met. Whatever. I hope you got whatever you were looking for by pulling me in here. I'm done. Done with this conversation, done with whatever has been going on with you and us since the day I transferred." You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm. It was barely more than a light touch, but you let it stop you.

"Y/N. I can't-" he sighed. "God, you make my head spin. I can't organize my thoughts enough to say what I want to. JJ was right, there was something I had to work through, and I guess you'd made up your mind about me before I figured it out. It isn't an excuse for how I treated you, just an explanation. As for the more recent development of arguments… I guess I read a subtext that wasn't there. I could never dislike you, let alone hate you. I am truly sorry for- for all of it." With three long strides, he was out the door.

Make his head spin? What subtext? Since when is he unable to say what's on his mind? And what was that about not disliking me? All we've done since we met is argue or ignore each other. Why else would he act like that? Why do I even care? Why am I so knotted up about what he's thinking and feeling? Whatever. Fuck him, and not in the fun way. I've gotta go get coffee for the team. As you were getting the coffee, you couldn't get the memory of his face, so close to yours, to stop playing in your head.

The rest of the case was mostly as normal, but there was an energy between you and Spencer that was distant like when you joined the team, but there was something else to it that you couldn't quite put your finger on. It made you a little bit sad, though, for reasons you didn't understand.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. I pulled away from you because it terrified me how much I loved you from the moment you walked through the door that first day. Being around you, even when we were arguing, made me feel alive in a way I never had before. You're all I think about, you're all I could ever want. I love you."

"I… I love you too." You didn't know which one of you moved, maybe you both did, but in an instant, you were kissing Spencer Reid, and you couldn't have been happier.

You woke up with a start, breathing heavily. You looked around; you were in your room, home alone, and it was 3:37 am. What the hell was that?

Four hours later, you trudged through the door of the BAU office, venti red-eye in hand. You made it about ten steps before Derek had his arm around your shoulders.

"Whoa there, hot stuff. Rough night?" You tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't budge, so you just kept walking, making him go with you towards your desk.

"So not your business, Derek. You being open with your personal life doesn't mean we all have to be open like that with ours."

"Personal life, huh? So who is he? More importantly, how was he, and should we expect more mornings like this in the future?" You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. You'd reached your desk, so you sat on top of it, facing him. As you did, you made eye contact with Spencer, who was well within earshot. His face was unreadable, and you weren't sure why him hearing Morgan tease you like that upset you. It never had before.

"No, Derek. There's no one. Just some nightmares. Nothing major; I'll be fine by tomorrow." You got off your desk, sat in your chair, and logged into your laptop. Derek whistled and walked away without another word, shaking his head.

You tried to focus on the paperwork you needed to get done, but you couldn't stop thinking about that dream. The feeling of his lips on yours… it felt so real.

This is ridiculous. Love? We don't even like each other. Well… there was the stuff he was saying yesterday- 'I could never dislike you, let alone hate you', and some sort of subtext? But not disliking someone is a far cry from love. Plus, he's straight, so this is all absurd. And even if he DID have feelings for me, I sure as hell don't return them. I mean, maybe he's not as awful as I've thought, especially if he wasn't coming from a place of dislike. And he really is very pretty. Those eyes… Wait, what the fuck? This is all fucking ridiculous. I just need to get a full night's sleep tomorrow, and all this weirdness will be gone.

You took a giant gulp of your coffee, shook your head, and ran your fingers through your hair. Fortunately, Hotchner called a team meeting, forcing your attention to other things.

While no case could ever be described as 'normal', this case was pretty cut and dry, once you figured out what you were looking for. No dramatic twist, no tense showdown at his arrest. There weren't many cases like that, but you were very glad that this one was. You never sleep well when on a case, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake that dream, the butterflies it left in your stomach every time you looked at him, and the strange disappointment when, unlike before that moment in Oregon, he wasn't looking at you.

Two more weeks passed. The energy between you and Spencer, whatever force it was that had drawn you together to argue again and again, was gone. You were polite to each other, and cooperated as necessary, but didn't do more than the bare minimum when it came to interacting with each other. Your interactions were cold and low-spirited. So you were so glad for a fun night out with Penelope, Emily, and JJ.

"So, Y/N, things seem… different… between you and Spencer these days. Did something happen?" Emily's tone made it clear that the three of them had intended to bring this up long before the plan to get drinks was even made. "I appreciate y'all waiting until I had a couple of drinks in me at least before going here. I guess we just got tired of fighting? I don't know. I can't figure out what's going on in that brilliant head of his. I thought I at least knew where I stood with him, even though it was purely adversarial, but I think I was wrong. But then that leaves me with no idea what he thinks of me or why I care so damn much."

"Really? No idea at all?" JJ asked. "I remember walking by a closed door in the police station in Oregon and hearing the word 'gorgeous' being thrown around." "Oh my god. You heard that?" You buried your face in your hands, and they all laughed.

"Yeah, I did, but only that one word. I'd figured you were on the phone with someone, but then you and Spence both started acting sad. I wasn't sure, of course, that you were talking to him until just now."

"Fuck. Okay, yeah. I think he's pretty. But I'm absolutely not alone in that. Derek calls him Pretty Boy, for goodness' sake. Appreciating someone's beauty doesn't have to mean anything more."

"Y/N, really? After everything we've been through together, you're gonna lie to us like this? Whatever happened, you've both been miserable since, and it's throwing the whole team off balance."

"What do you want me to say, Penelope? That I'm in love with him? He's pretentious and a know-it-all and a nerd and funny and kind and gorgeous and oh my God. I think I'm in love with him." The three women clapped and cheered.

"Finally, you get there! Took you long enough." Emily winked. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Keep this shit between us until my feelings go away. Even if he wasn't straight, I wouldn't risk fucking things up by telling him how I felt. As it is, I stand no chance in hell, so I'm just gonna write this one off as another straight guy I've fallen for and try to move on."

"Y/N, if you tell him-" Penelope started.

"No. You, more than anyone, know why I can't even entertain the idea of trying to be with him. I can't set myself up for that kind of pain. Not here, not where things are so good." You looked at all three of them. "I know that your intentions were good, but I just can't do this. I'm sorry." You grabbed your coat and left.

Your interactions with Spencer changed yet again. Now that you knew you loved him, you couldn't help yourself from being warmer towards him. As the weeks passed, you got closer. After three weeks, you considered him to be a good friend, not that that made things any less painful. You were just hoping that Penelope, Emily, and JJ were going to respect your wishes and drop the subject of your feelings for him.

[From: Penelope]: round table room ASAP

Shit. The last time you'd gotten that text from Penelope, the team left on a serial child abduction case 30 minutes later. So, despite it being your day off, you ran out the door and were there with your go bag in 15 minutes.

But no one else was there. No files on the table, nothing to indicate that there was a new case. You pulled out your phone to call Penelope, but then you heard a commotion outside the door- you'd closed it behind you.

"No, Derek, wait, I don't-"

"Can it, Pretty Boy, and thank me later." Derek opened the door, pushed Spencer into the room, winked at you, and shut the door, all in about 3 seconds.

"Spencer. Um, hi. Is the rest of the team not going to join us? Garcia's text seemed pretty urgent." You tucked your phone into your pocket.

"I don't think so, since I just heard Morgan barricade the door." He tried to open the door and failed.

"Oh my god they're Parent Trapping us. I'm gonna kill them."

Spencer tilted his head, confused. "Parent Trapping?"

"Oh my god have you not seen any of the Parent Trap movies? Were you living under a rock in 1998?" "I was seventeen and working on my first doctorate, so pretty much, yeah," he laughed. You couldn't help but laugh, too, as you firmly ignored how his smile made you absolutely melt.

"Fair enough. The '61 one is good too, but the '98 Lindsay Lohan one is Iconic for good reason. Anyway. The point is, they've locked us in here and won't let us out until we have a conversation."

"Just a conversation? Or do they want us to talk about something in particular?" He took a seat at the table.

"I- yeah, they have a particular topic in mind. I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I was tipsy and said things I should have just kept to myself. I thought they'd respected my wishes and left well enough alone, but clearly they didn't. And they won't let us out of here until I tell you-" you hesitated.

"Tell me what?" He leaned forward, and part of you swore you saw hope in his beautiful brown eyes. You looked at the floor, avoiding them.

"Tell you that I… have feelings for you. Romantic, cheesy, butterflies-in-my-stomach feelings. I don't know why they want me to tell you this. We've just gotten to a good place as friends, and you're straight, and-"

Somehow you missed the sound of him getting up and taking the few steps over to you, because you practically jumped out of your skin when his hands were suddenly on your shoulders.

"Y/N. Please, darling, look at me?" Bewildered by the endearment, you did, and his smile was blinding. "I'm not straight. I'm bi, and I think part of me has been in love with you since your first day at the BAU. The thing JJ said I was working through? The potential problems of having feelings for a coworker. For you. As soon as you walked through that door", he pointed and then took both your hands in his, "I loved you. The night at the bar? I was rolling my eyes at myself for how much I wanted to kiss you, and I walked away to stop myself from doing something reckless. I love you, Y/N. Can I do something reckless?"

"I'm trans," you blurted. "I hope that doesn't change anything, but it's something you should know. If knowing that I'm trans changes things, now is the time for you to say something. If it's a problem and it blows up later, it might actually kill me. Because I love you, too. So much. If it doesn't change anything, then please, Spencer, kiss me."

The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours. You weren't sure how long you were kissing before you were interrupted by cheers from the other side of the door. "Shit, Spencer, they're going to be the worst about this, aren't they?" You were a bit embarrassed by how breathy your voice was, but you were too happy to really care.

"Oh yeah. We're not going to get a moment that's just us in this building ever again. Do you want to get it over with and face them, or would you prefer we stay in this moment a bit longer?"

"What do you think, doctor?" you asked, pulling him in for another kiss.

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #otp: pretty boys

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

redamancy.

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the moment you’ve all been waiting for...#5 makes an appearance! (thanks to kira @good-heavens-chris-evans for helping me not be a liar and gassing me up so i could post this tonight like i promised xoxo i love you so much) words: 5.56k warnings: descriptions of childbirth (nothing too gross or graphic), swearing, disgustingly sweet family content

summary: “what strange creatures brothers are!” - jane austen. au!august 2022

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist edited: january 9th, 2021

“Hey, Aaron?” You peer around the wall to the bedroom from your place on the master bath toilet. There isn't any urgency to your query, which would later make you both laugh until you can't breathe.

Aaron has a book in his lap and reading glasses resting on his perfect nose, as is usual for bedtime. He turns a page. “Hm?”

“When you get to a good stopping point, can you grab the go bag?”

“Yeah.” He gets up on autopilot, setting his book down. When he reaches the bedroom doorway, he freezes and turns over his shoulder “Wait. Why?”

“Oh, nothing extreme,” you say, your voice light. “My water just broke and I figured we might -“

Your name leaves his mouth in a laugh, and he trots back to you, helping you up and kneeling to assist you with your comfiest pair of pajama pants. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, stepping into one leg, then the other. Playfully, he snaps the stretchy waistband around you. He's still kneeling before you when he says, “You’re insane, you know that?”

You smile down at him and scrub your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch like a cat and closes his eyes. “You are too, I’d like to point out.”

He sighs, kissing your belly and resting his cheek on it. “Never said I wasn’t.” He looks up at you. “Is it weird that I’m...a little sad? I’ve loved this part of our lives so much.”

You shake your head. “Me too, my love. And no, It isn’t weird.”

He holds your hands as he stands and kisses your forehead.

“We should probably tell Jack it's go time so he can help the little ones when they get up.”

Aaron pauses for a moment, thinking. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Isaac isn’t going to clearly remember last time, so he’ll probably be nervous, and this is totally new to the girls.” You reach up and he plants a kiss on your lips. You smile, pleased.

A little contraction wave hits, and one side of your face screwed up in discomfort.

Aaron kisses your cheek and says, “I’ll get the rest of the toiletries together.”

You nod, and padded down the hallway, your socked feet swishing a little against the hardwood floors. You knocked twice on Jack’s door, quietly, and waited for his groggy, “Yeah?”

With access granted, you open the door with a little smile, and Jack sits straight up. You cross to his bed and sit down on the edge, opening your arm to him. Though he’s almost seventeen, he scrambled out from under the covers and tucked in close to you.

“Your dad and I are headed to the hospital, and Aunt Jess and Em are on their way okay? If you need anything big, dad has his phone and -“

“Mom, we’ve done this before,” he says with a grin. “I know the drill.”

You push the hair off his forehead and kiss him. “I know it, but it makes me feel better. The little ones haven’t done this before, and they’ll probably be a little nervous. Please help your aunts so they aren’t driven to the drink by your sisters.”

He laughs a little, and surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. “Be safe, mom. I love you.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you hold him tight. “I love you so much, Jack.”

“Are you scared?”

You press a hand to the back of his head, and he burrows into your neck. “Only a little. I know I’m older, which can make some things difficult, but I’ll always come home to you.”

He nods. “Promise?”

“I promise as much as I can.”

Jack pulls away and swipes quickly at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Hey,” your brow crinkles in lighthearted concern. “What’s gotcha?”

He shakes his head. “It’s stupid”

“I can guarantee you it’s not.” While still a bit of a boy, Jack looks very much a man in the dark, lit only by the light of the hallway as the wheels turn in his head. You pick up one of his hands, and he places your linked fingers over your belly.

“I just - I don’t - Ugh. It’s morbid - Nevermind.”

You huff a laugh. “Baby, remember that one-third of this house hunts serial killers for a living. Nothing is morbid.”

A smile quirks at his lips, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Just be okay? Please?”

You sober and nod, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Jack, do you think I would ever put you or your father into a position that can result in leaving either one of you?”

He shakes his head. “But things happen.”

“They sure do. Your dad will be with me the whole time and he can send you hourly updates if you want. I promise promise promise you’ll be in the loop, baby. I know you like to know.”

Your son’s eyes flicker to the doorway, where a shadow appears. It's Aaron, his backpack on and your go bag in his hand.

“Ready?”

You nod, stand (not without effort), and press another kiss to Jack’s head. “I love you bud. I’ll see you when our plus one arrives.”

The plan is easy: Emily and Jessica are on their way over for the kids, and Dave and Spencer will relieve them after 12 hours. Derek, Savannah, JJ, and Will are only called when the baby arrives, to save them the angst of prematurely wrangling four children between them.

The hospital is only eighteen minutes away, but with the way Aaron drives, it's more like ten.

Time is fairly important - with your body accustomed to delivering babies, having done it twice before, there’s a very big chance active labor would only take a few hours, if that.

Emily and Jess pull up to the house at the same time, both in their pajamas, holding their overnight bags.

“Ready?” Jess asks, kissing your cheek.

You laugh. “Don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

Emily sets her things down and wordlessly hugs you. You wrap your arms around her as best you can.

“Walk me out?” You ask.

She slings an arm around your shoulders and you walk back out the front door. She situates you in the passenger seat, and you offer her a small smile.

“You know,” she starts with a bit of a laugh, “every single time I’m just as nervous as I was when Henry was born.”

You reach for her hand, and kiss the back of it. “Me too.”

Everything goes according to plan after that. You sit in the car with your stopwatch while Aaron packs the car, checking the car seat base and putting everything that needs to go up with you in the trunk. Jess and Emily get set up on the couches in the living room, ready to settle in for the night.

You're uncomfortable, sure, but it isn't unbearable yet. This is the tedious part.

Miraculously, none of the little ones wake up in the commotion. The magic of white noise machines is never to be underestimated.

“Time?” He calls from where he leans into the back of the car. He's handling the last details, in full field operations mode.

You turn around. “5 minutes, 15 seconds.”

“Alright,” he looks up at you and grins widely. “Let’s go, baby.”

+++

Brienne breezes in and checks your charts and your dilation. “It’s go, time, here I think, Momma.”

You sigh and readjust. “Do I have to lay down?” Comfortable as you are, epidural all finished, you still feel a little restless. The alternative is worse - you’d delivered Isaac without any pain management, and thought it was the end of days. You didn’t, and won’t, make that mistake again.

“Not necessarily, but if you’re going to shuffle around I would suggest a squat for the sake of your blood pressure.”

Another contraction hits, and it knocks the wind out of you. You squeeze Aaron’s hand so hard you fear you’ll break it, and inform him for the third time that morning that you hate his guts.

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know. I’m the worst. Just breathe, okay?” He presses his forehead to your temple, giving you something to focus on.

It sounds like you tell him to fuck off, but you aren’t sure. The wave crests and then falls, and you slump back against the pillows. “Okay, maybe I do want to lie down.”

Everyone stifles a chuckle, but you didn't have it in you to be prideful. While you still have a few seconds, you double-check the plan. “Hey Brienne, we’re still good to tie today, right?”

“Yes, ma’am!” she says, way too chipper for the small morning hour. She speaks quickly, knowing she has to finish her thought before your next contraction. “Soon as we’re all done, we’ll do a really quick procedure and everything will be squared away. If, for some reason, we have to do an emergency cesarean, we can do it right then as well.”

Brienne is a great obstetrician - she never pulls punches when the news is difficult or stressful. Her straightforward nature immediately endeared her to your whole family.

It's too much to think about, seeing as another contraction sneaks up on you as you ponder. It felt like only seconds since the last one.

You're so tired.

Brienne gestures to Aaron. They developed a bit of a language over the last two deliveries, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “You gotta push, babe.”

“God, Fuck. I hate you, Aaron. Goddamn you. I’m never letting you near me ever again. Fuck.” A stream of expletives continues to leave you as you push and push and push.

He only holds your hand and reminds you to breathe and push. He also tells you how much he loves you in between agreeing with your damning assessments.

If he's honest, he always thinks your ire during childbirth is hilarious. It is kind of his fault, and he can't fathom the physical trauma, so he figures this is a fair role to fill while you do the hard work.

On a small trough in your final set of contractions, you catch your breath enough to ask for his other hand. This is the hardest part, and it always makes you a little nervous.

“Aaron, come here. Please.” He drapes his arm around your shoulders, and you grab his hand where it hangs by your collarbone.

“You’re almost there, darlin’! We’re gonna be crowning here in a second.” You can't see Brienne, totally locked into her task, but her update is a relief.

You lean heavily into Aaron and he rests his cheek against yours. While this is a shorter labor than both Isaac and the girls’, you're exhausted. Bone-deep tired and hot and cold all at once.

“You’re doing so well. You’re a superhero. I love you so much.” He whispers his words against you, and you wail as another contraction hit. Your choice of a walking epidural doesn’t knock the pain out entirely, and it still totally sucks. But again, better than the alternative.

“We’ve got a little Hotchner head! Keep going!” Brienne pats your knee and grins at you, and you follow instructions. “Do you want to catch, Dad?”

Before he can answer, you tell him, “If you move, I’ll kill you,” through your teeth. Aaron shrugs and looks over your head at Brienne, who suppresses a smile.

There can't be any blood left in Aaron’s upper extremities at this point. In the midst of actively disliking him and your presence in your life in that particular moment, you're so grateful for him you could cry.

Well, you could cry for a great number of reasons, but that’s definitely one of them.

A few minutes and a pretty bad time later, a strong cry fills the room and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Aaron releases you as you unbutton your gown to expose your chest.

“Your time to shine, Aaron.” Brienne holds up the umbilical cord clamp and snaps it together twice like a dad at a barbecue. With a smile, he stands and rounds the bed.

You tried to peer over to see, but you're only able to see Aaron and Brienne.

A smile eats up his whole face.

“Hi!” His voice pitches up, and you start to cry.

You just love him so much your chest could just burst. Aaron is always the first person to greet your children as they come into the world, and he never fails to deliver a warm welcome.

“Right here, right?” He looks to Brienne, and she nods. He cuts the cord, and the nurse crosses the room for measurements.

Aaron returns to you and removes his own shirt, ready to take the little one while you finish delivery. After his crew neck is thrown to the side, he gathers you up in his arms again.

There’s nothing you can do but melt into him. His skin is warm and he smells good, whereas your skin felt clammy and you probably smell like a horse’s ass.

Brienne’s voice comes to you faintly from the other side of the room, iterating the specs of the newest addition. “Baby Boy Hotchner, 5:37am, August 13th, 8 pounds, 14 ounces, 21 inches.”

Okay I'm not crazy. He’s actually huge.

Aaron scoots even closer as you lean away to get a better look. Brienne sets the still-squalling infant on your chest with gentle, warm hands. Your eyes blur with tears. Aaron isn't any better off, keeping one hand on you and another on your son, his own tears tracking quietly down his cheeks.

Your son.

Brienne sighs and says, “Alright, last bit here, and then you’re done.”

You nod and Aaron takes him off your chest, leaning back with one hand under him and one hand over him. Fluid and other questionable grossness be damned, he ducks his head and presses his cheek to his son’s head, an ineffable joy radiating through his body.

Aaron’s hands almost completely cover him - with his little knees tucked to his chest, he looks like an angry little loaf of bread.

The afterbirth is the easy part, but then it was before, too. All the Hotchner kids are massive - even the girls were bigger for twins.

You always make fun of Aaron for “ripping me to shreds, and not in a fun way.”

(Okay, fine. Maybe a little in a fun way. Sometimes.)

There’s a little more pressure, and you look down at Brienne’s outline behind that infernal green medical paper shit. “How’s it going down there?”

“I’m getting these suckers tied off so we don’t have any more happy accidents. Don’t mind me.”

Aaron stifles a laugh and you roll your eyes, still weepy. The nurse passes him a warm, wet washcloth, and he begins to wipe the ick from his son’s skin.

Brienne finishes up and helps you get adjusted with ice packs and that excellent postpartum underwear. When she's satisfied, she removes her gloves and presses a hand to your bare shoulder. “Beautiful work, momma. He’s perfect.”

You put a shaky hand over hers. “Thanks.” A little watery laugh leaves you. Ouch. “I’ll miss you.”

And it's true. Brienne has been a semi-permanent fixture in your life for close to six years and has become a friend. You wouldn’t have any reason to see her again outside of regular check-ups.

She squeezes your shoulder twice. “You ever need anything, you know who to call. Let someone know when you’re ready to put his name down, and they’ll finish off the birth certificate.”

With that, she shepherds the nurse out the door, and you're alone with Aaron.

“So,” you say.

He smiles, his eyes still trained on the little body who has quickly quieted and is snoozing on his chest. “So?”

“Gimme that.”

His laugh is warm, and he places little one on your chest again. You prod him awake, feeling only a touch bad about it, and offer him a snack. He latches right away, and you tip your head back in sheer relief.

“Thank God.”

Aaron nods in agreement. “That’s one less thing to worry about.” He shakes his head as if shaking something off - no doubt remembering the meltdowns night after night trying to nurse Isaac.

Little one is still naked to the world, so you point at the little blue blanket folded across the room. “Can you grab that for me?”

Aaron just looks at you for a second, as if seeing you for the first time. “Of course.”

He crosses the room, throws the blanket over his shoulder, and grabs a diaper. While the little one is distracted, he deftly maneuvers the diaper into place and drapes the blanket over him to keep the chill off while maintaining skin-to-skin.

You pull the blanket back a little so you can see his squishy little face. “Can you call Jack?”

“Do we want to call him now? It’s pretty early.” Aaron leans over to his backpack and pulls his phone out, finding a couple requests for updates from Jess. First things first, he turns the camera on you, and you give him a thumbs up. You detach the little one from your nipple for a second, framing his face with the blanket. Aaron gets a good photo of a yawn and fires both pictures off to the BAU group chat before checking Jess’s messages.

4:12am How we doin? 4:18am Jack’s up with me. He can’t sleep. Em is dead to the world - she gave up about an hour ago. Give us an update when you can.

6:02am He’s adorable!!! He’s got your nose though, which is unfortunate. 6:02am Kidding. Maybe.

Aaron laughs a little, and he looks at you. “He’s up with Jess.”

You nod. “Go ahead and call him. He’ll worry, honey.”

He nods, and dials the second number on his speed dial. Jack picks up on the first ring. “Dad?”

“Hey, bud.” Aaron can't hide the smile in his voice. “Your brother is here and your mom wants to talk to you.”

“Can I come see you?” Jack’s voice wavers a little, and Aaron knows it's relief, rather than anxiety. Much like his son, he was more than a little concerned for your safety. Now that it's over, he can finally relax.

That alone is enough to make anyone emotional.

Aaron checks his watch. “Are you too tired to drive?”

“No, no. I’m good. I slept a little after you guys left.” he's quiet for a second. “Can you hand me to mom?”

“Sure, bud.” Aaron nods at you and you smile. He starts to pass the phone over to you then -

“Oh, dad?” Jack’s voice is only a little urgent.

Aaron pulls the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, bud. I want to talk to Aunt Jess when you’re done with mom, so don’t hang up, okay?”

With that, he hands you the phone and fresh tears roll down your cheeks. You know this part comes in waves - the emotions. Your hormones are in shambles, and you forget how intense it is every time.

“Hey, Jack.”

“Are you okay how did it go what happened?” All the questions come out in a rush.

You chuckle. Ouch. “Slow down there, kiddo. We’re just fine. It went really smoothly, but the last part happened kind of all at once and I denied your father personal freedom and geographic agency, so we didn’t get a chance to update you.”

He laughs, and it warms you. “It’s okay. I’m really excited to meet him.” There’s a shuffle, and you assume it's his keys.

Baby boy is finished eating, just nosing around your chest at this point. You shift, and Hotch catches the phone and holds it to your ear so you can use two hands, bringing little one’s head right under your collarbone, tucking him up again. “He’s excited to meet you, too.”

After Aaron has a chance to debrief and game-plan with Jess (“If you bring the little ones over here before 10am, nobody will have any fun.”), Jack is on his way.

In the meantime, Aaron sets his phone on the side table and sits on the edge of your bed. “Are we sticking to the name we picked? Does it feel right?”

You nod. “I think so. What do you think?”

You do your best to inch yourself over - Ouch - so Aaron can have a little more space. He stretches out on the bed next to you, on his side with his arm folded under his head. A very large hand covers yours, pulling the blanket down to little one’s chin.

“He looks like you,” he says.

You snort. Ouch. “Don’t lie. All your damn kids look like you.”

“Alright, fine.” He relents with a wide smile. “He looks like me.”

He's quiet for a moment, tracing the apple of little one’s cheek with his finger. His smile morphs into something soft, pensive. It's the look he always has when he's in awe of his children. “What do you think, little man? Is your name Elliot David? How’s that sitting with you?”

The Elliot David in question just makes contented little staccato sounds from his chest, his brown eyes looking here and there, surprisingly alert. He lets out a little cough, and both you and Aaron let out an, “Oh!” simultaneously in that drawn-out way parents do when their kids surprise themselves.

You look at him and stifle a laugh just for the sake of your exhausted muscles. Aaron’s smile soon turns shaky, and tears fall onto his elbow where it rests under his head. He takes a big breath, and it catches on the way out.

“Oh, honey. Come here.”

You adjust again, bringing the head of the bed down with the little remote. As you recline, you only need one hand to keep Elliot secure. You raise your other arm, and Aaron scoots under it, resting his head in the crook of your chest and shoulder. He snaps some buttons on your gown in the absent-minded interest of keeping Jack relatively unscarred.

Aaron’s bare arm is warm under your fingers. You trace little patterns into his skin as he stares at the back of his son’s head. Elliot’s impossibly small hand catches Aaron’s finger in that death grip only babies seem to have.

Aaron doesn’t care he's nearly twenty-four hours without sleep, missing a shirt, and really hungry. The only things that matter in this moment are right here in front of him.

There’s no need to speak.

A nurse stops by and drops off the bedside cradle, speaking quietly. “You can put him in here when you’re ready to get some rest.”

You look up and thank him. “Oh, and we’d like to finish the birth certificate in a few hours. Will that be alright?”

He nods. “Just fine.” He checks your charts and leaves a few moments later.

Soon after, the door slips open, and Jack’s head pops in. “Hi!” He stage-whispers. “Lemme see him.”

Aaron is stuck where he is, still locked in by Elliot’s grip, so Jack crosses to your other side, pulling up a chair as close as he can get it.

There is a sense of finality to this meeting. Elliot is your last child, and this is the last time the Three Musketeers will sit together, meeting the newest member of their family.

“Oh man, Mom. He’s so cute.” Jack coos and ducks so he's eye-level with his baby brother. He traces a finger along Elliot’s tiny, straight nose. When he rests his head on your upper arm, you kiss his head. All three of you sit there until the sun rises, watching Elliot fall asleep. Aaron follows suit eventually, his breath fanning slow and even across your chest.

+++

The three of you are relatively well-rested by the time your family comes to bombard you.

Elliot woke twice in the early morning - once to be fed and the other to be changed. Jack retreated to the recliner after a certain point, and Aaron threw on a sweatshirt and curled up next to you for the duration. They're still out cold, while you rest somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

One of the nurses on rotation pops her head in. You wave at her with the tips of your fingers.

“Your family is here to see you.”

That wakes you up. You make an ‘eek’ face. “All of them?”

She nods. “Three at a time?”

“Please.” You reach over and pick up a neatly-swaddled Elliot and tuck him into your elbow. You check the corner, where Jack still sleeps. You're sure a train could drive through the room and he’d still be out. That kid has sleeping superpowers - being sixteen only helped.

Jess is first, holding the girls’ hands while Isaac trails a little behind.

You put a finger to your lips and point to Elliot. “He’s sleeping, so you have to be really quiet, okay?”

Caroline clambers up on the bed with a few reminders to “be gentle with Mom and don’t lean on her too much,” and peers over you. “Is Daddy sleeping?”

You look to your right, and sure enough, Aaron is out like a light again, performance evaluations on his chest, his hand relaxed around his pen. “Yeah, baby. Daddy’s sleeping because he's awake for a really long time helping me with Elliot.”

Newly reminded of the main event, Caro plants herself by your knee while Sophia sits by your hip, taking the good real estate. You look over at Jess and wink. She slips out, closing the door softly behind her.

You scoot over so you're flush with Aaron’s side. “Come on up here, bubba.”

Isaac gives you a little smile and perches at your side. “He’s so small.”

“Yep. And look at that,” you brush your fingers down Elliot’s nose and tap his cupid bow before doing the same to Isaac. “You have the same nose.”

Isaac smiles and raises a tentative hand. He hesitates right before he reaches the dark brown peach fuzz that sits in unmanageable cowlicks on Elliot’s head.

“You can touch him, bub. Just be gentle.” Isaac’s hand smooths over Elliot’s head with next-to-no pressure. “Do you remember when Sophia and Caroline were born?”

Isaac nods. “It was super cool.”

“It was super cool.” You kiss his forehead and adjust your hold on Elliot. “Sophia, love, can you hand me the pillow that’s by Daddy’s knee.”

She nods and very carefully presents it to you. You show her how to stuff it under your elbow so you can relax while supporting Elliot’s head. Caro is clearly enamored, her eyes never leaving Elliot’s face.

“Babies are really delicate,” you remind a wiggling Sophia. “Their heads are too heavy for their little necks, so sometimes they need a little help.”

At the mention of ‘help,’ Aaron’s eyes snap open. “What’s up?”

You suppress a laugh as he realizes all of his kids surround him like the children of the corn. He presses a hand to his face, recovering. “Oh. Hi.”

Caro beams at him, and he beams right back. He puts his files down and pats his lap. “Come here, my little love. I’ve got a really good view over here.”

She very mindfully picks her way over your shins and into her father’s lap. He lifts her so she's flush to his chest. His cheek presses into her hair, and he shows her where to find Elliot’s little baby toes under the blanket.

“Are his feet very very small?” Caroline’s whispered question almost makes Aaron cry again.

“Yes. They are very very small. So are his hands. Here, look.”

He reaches over and peels back a layer of blanket, exposing one of Elliot’s (very very) small hands, pressed flat against the fabric. Aaron wiggles his finger under it and presents it to the kids. “If you look really carefully, you all have the same hands.”

All at once, three pairs of hands appear, flipping their palms up and down as each one individually assesses the similarities.

“And if you look even closer,” he says, flipping his palm down, but keeping Elliot’s hand aloft, “I have the same hands as all of you, too.”

Caroline looks up at him, awestruck and he nods. She places her hand on the back of Aaron’s and - lo and behold - they're the same shape, just significantly different sizes.

Satisfied, Sophia drops her hands, leaning on them to get a closer, yet stable, look at Elliot’s fingers.

She gasps, but to her credit, keeps her voice soft as she says, “Look at his tiny little nails!”

“Lemme see!” Aaron supports Caro as she thrusts her body forward to get a better look.

Jack stirs in the corner, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. In full voice, he says, “Oh, hey guys.”

Three big shushes come from the kids, and it takes everything in you to keep your laugh locked away. You keep your eyes trained on Sophia (who looks downright offended at Jack’s volume) knowing if you look at Aaron you’d be done for.

Jack makes the same ‘eek’ face you made earlier. “Sorry, sorry.” He creeps over, standing behind Sophia and putting his hands on her shoulders. She giggles quietly as he drops close to her ear. “Cute, huh?”

She wrinkles her nose. “He looks a little funny.”

“He’ll start to look more like a person in a few weeks,” Aaron says with a smile. “You looked pretty funny the day you're born, maybe even funnier.”

He winks at her, and she dissolves into a fit of giggles again, leaning back against Jack. As she did so, her brother wrapped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head.

Isaac runs his hand over Elliot’s hair, gentle and repetitive. He, like Jack did hours earlier, rests his head against your shoulder. You press your cheek to the crown of his head, soaking it in.

“I like him.”

A smile breaks your face in half, and you peer around to look at Isaac’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s cool.”

Your bottom lip disappears into your mouth as you fight back tears, still ready to flow without fair warning. You don’t want to scare them. “I’m so glad you think so, bubba.”

Elliot has once again taken Aaron’s finger hostage, and it takes more than a little negotiation to get him unwrapped and tucked back into his blanket. You have no idea how Elliot manages to sleep through all the commotion, but then again, he’ll have to get used to it.

Jess pokes her head back in. “Ready for some lunch?”

Four heads whip around and nod vigorously. Aaron deposits Caro on the floor, while Isaac presses a heart-wrenching kiss to Elliot’s head before gingerly getting his feet back under him. Jack just lifts Sophia and she hangs off his hip, only a little too big.

He walks to you and kisses your cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

You bring your hand up to his temple, the back of your fingers brushing his hair back. “I love you too, my Jack.”

One side of his mouth turns up in a smile, and he leaves the room with Sophia, leading the rest of the pack down the hallway.

+++

It's safe to say Dave immediately covets his namesake. You plop Elliot into his arms right away, and say, “This is Elliot David Hotchner. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Dave full-on cries, letting the tears just fall onto his shirt as he bounces Elliot all around the room, talking to him about all the ways he’ll spoil him rotten.

It’s easy to name him after Rossi. When you finally decided on a couple of first names, it was a no-brainer to pair them up with David. He’s your family, like they all are, but you're acutely aware that Elliot will have the smallest amount of time with Dave, no matter how much time that will be.

When Dave is ready to give him up, he reluctantly passes him back to Aaron. Dave crosses to you while Aaron offers Elliot a knuckle to mouth around on.

Dave kisses your cheeks and embraces you. He leans back to look at you, keeping his hands on your face. You cover his hands with your own and close your eyes.

You're taking a lot of mental pictures today.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you're sure you see Aaron’s one-handed camera work out of the corner of your eye.

“Thank you, bellissima.”

“You’ve more than earned it,” you remind him.

“Dealing with you two for fifteen years? You’re damn right I have.”

+++

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