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#she stalked me not only while we were at school but on and off until i was 21
fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Facebook will jumpscare you for no reason. Like why did I need to know that the girl who used to stalk me is pregnant, and why did I need to know one of my former bullies has just married an ugly man
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applepiewinchesters · 1 month
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Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
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A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.
Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)
Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff
Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.
The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.
Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.
Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.
All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.
When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.
You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.
The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.
“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.
Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.
“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.
It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.
Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.
The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”
That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.
When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.
After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.
He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.
Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.
You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.
But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.
It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.
After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.
But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.
“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.
“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.
“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.
Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.
Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.
Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.
You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.
“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.
The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”
“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.
“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.
The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.
Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.
You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.
Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.
So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.
You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.
So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.
You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.
When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.
His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.
Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.
“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.
“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.
As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.
“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.
Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.
“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.
“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”
While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.
“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.
When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.
Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.
He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.
It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.
You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.
“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.
“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.
You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.
Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.
Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.
Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.
“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”
The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.
You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.
Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.
You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.
“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.
It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.
He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.
What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.
“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.
You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.
“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.
“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.
It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.
You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.
“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.
“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.
You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.
“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.
“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.
You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.
Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.
When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.
There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”
You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.
Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.
“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.
Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.
“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.
There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.
“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.
Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”
“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.
“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.
“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.
Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”
“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.
“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.
The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.
You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.
“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.
So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.
“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.
“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.
“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.
“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”
Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.
It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."
Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.
But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”
You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.
Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”
Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.
You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”
“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.
“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.
“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.
You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”
Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.
“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.
This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.
“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.
This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.
The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!
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chrissv4mp · 3 months
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— I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE -
the prologue , it was important. — | — ...back — | — next... — |
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summary: chris has an obsession with you, one of the most famous pop stars of the last few years. when he goes out to eat at a local diner with some friends, he spots you, and his obsession turns to something bigger.
pairing: stalker!chris sturniolo × singer!reader
warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, murder, weapons, blood, obsessive behavior, suggestive moments, breaking & entering, crying, arguments, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, etc. more than half of these topics are mentioned in later chapters, not the prologue.
author's note: if the person reading this is sensitive to any of the topics listed above, please do not read this. i am not responsible for your own media consumption, and will not change any aspect of the story for your own pleasure.
author's note 2: no but real talk, this is probably the most motivated i've ever been while writing/coming up with a story😭 i really hope all of you enjoy this and please remember this is just my imagination and is not real at all!!!
word count: 1.8k
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"don't be afraid of me,
i'm what you need."
chris laughs at his brother's joke, hand landing on matt's shoulder as he clings onto the brunette boy. nick just chuckles, glancing over at madison only to see her laughing her ass off as well.
nate smiles at matt, taking a quick look at chris before he lets out a quiet giggle. chris was always making the group laugh, he was just unintentionally funny at times.
chris begins to tickle matt with a cheeky grin on his face, resulting in his brother pushing him away. matt steps in front of chris before opening the door for his friends, flashing a smile at madison, nate, and nick. he only sticks his tongue out at chris, and his younger brother does the same.
matt couldn't help but laugh before following close behind the group, looking back to make sure nobody else was coming through the door.
"haven't been here in years." nick says, taking in the atmosphere of the older building as he looks around the place. he can't believe it's been so long.
madison listens with intent as matt chimes in, adding on to his brothers new topic, "yeah, i can't believe it's still up."
"we always went here after our lacrosse and hockey games for a celebration, even if we didn't win. it became a tradition until we moved to la, so it's special being here again." the middle triplet explains with a smile on his face, reminiscing the vibe of the place.
nate hums at his friends memories, looking around the small diner that was mostly empty. there wasn't many people who came here as often, but it was very popular back when the triplets were in high-school.
chris grabs both of his brothers, pulling them closer to him with a huge smile on his face, "yup, gotta love the memories we made in this place." nick grimaces at his brother's cheery tone, but he still pats his back affectionately.
matt just ruffles his hair before distentangling his and his brothers limbs, settling his hands in his jean pockets as he waits for someone to speak again.
"let's go sit?" madison suggests, and the whole group collectively agrees as matt and madison lead the way to a booth in the corner of the building.
all of them immerse in conversation as they look over at the menu, chris looking over at the kids menu occasionally and getting interested in the short list of options. chicken nuggets did sound good, but he wasn't seriously gonna get them.
"kid seriously got dino nuggets," matt laughs, and chris only flips him off, "shit is crazy."
madison looks over at chris, grabbing his forearm to slowly bring it back down on the table. as chris turns his head to look at her, she sighs, eyes wide in warning. "if you bark at me again..."
nick laughs, looking over at nate and matt to catch their reactions. nate snorts and matt laughs harder at his best friends reaction. he can't help but grab nates shoulder and rest along his back comfortably, tears almost pricking in his eyes.
madison forks a piece of steak into her mouth, looking over at chris to see that he's already munching on his meal.
"slow down, chris. you're gonna get the hiccups." matt says, tone warning as he looks at his brother with a slightly concerned expression.
the brunette picks up his sandwich before biting into it, his eyes trained on his younger brother as he bites down on a fry.
the others begin to eat, chatting in between bites as they get sucked into the topic of work. chris hates the topic, but he has no choice but to listen in. some of the stuff he finds interesting, like designs for merch and new ideas for vlogs over the summer.
he can't help but let his attention wander off from the conversation in front of him, eyes roaming the old diner and looking around for any other things that catch his eye. he doesn't want to think about work the entire rest of the night, that's actually what he wants to get his mind off of.
his foot taps against the side of the booths seat, his leg hanging off but not quite touching the floor just yet. did they raise the seating in this place? maybe, but all he could focus on at the moment was a girl sitting across from his friend group.
chris could only see the side of her face, but he knew who it was. he knew very well who hid in a booth at the back of the diner. it was y/n l/n, one of singers he's been obsessing over lately. what was she doing in boston? no, what was she doing in such a low-quality diner like this? he seriously didn't understand why huge a-list celebrities went to run-down places.
maybe for the aesthetic, the scenery. he does the same thing, but he never thinks bad of the places he goes to. nothing is really considered bad unless it's falling apart or smells horrible. like chobani yogurt. he couldn't stand the smell of that... substance. he wouldn't even clarify it as food!
"what the actual fuck." chris says out in the open, louder than he intended to but not loud enough that she could hear.
nick tenses up at his brothers tone, grabbing onto matts shoulder tight as he looks over at the younger boy, "what. chris, what?!"
matt winces at the small pain, but he also becomes alert, looking around the place for any signs of danger. he sees none, and his eyes return to chris again. everybody's eyes are on him now, but the longer-haired boys eyes aren't on them.
"chris!" nate exclaims, shaking his friends shoulder and finally making him come back to reality.
the brunette has to hold himself back from pointing, gripping the seat under him as he speaks quietly, like if he spoke any louder the building would collapse, "y/n l/n. y/n l/n is in that booth right-fucking-there, look, look!!"
the entire groups heads turn in sync, looking the direction that chris' eyes were pointed at. madison, nick, and matt's jaws dropped, and nate only looked around in confusion. madison began to shake matt by his shoulders, and he let her.
he was sure the entire group, minus nate, was in shock. they all had the same questions as chris, why was she here? who was that girl she was with? would she take a picture with them if they asked?
chris didn't give them any more time to think, practically jumping out of his seat and holding himself back from running straight towards her. he was about to meet his favorite female singer ever, and possibly even take a picture with her? how could this day get any better, seriously.
"hi, excuse me. sorry to bother you, but could i get a picture?" chris smiled, eyes glistening in the dim lighting of the diner, and maybe even in admiration of the beautiful girl in front of him.
she looked up from her friend, who chris knew as olivia rodrigo, and looked at him with a sweet smile. he swore her teeth glowed, "of course,"
she stood up from the booth, the drop being insanely tall for her shorter figure. chris had a couple inches on y/n which resulted in him looking down at the h/c girl. she cocked an eyebrow as she took a better look at him, eyes basically glowing at the realization.
"hey, aren't you that famous youtuber that films with his brother? correct me if i'm wrong, but you're chris, right?" she asks with slight confusion in her voice, and chris just stares in awe at the knowledge that y/n knows who he is.
y/n stares at him awkwardly, hearing olivia giggle behind her quietly. that's what snaps chris back to reality, and he nods his head, "yeah, yes, that's me! how'd you know? do you.. do you watch us?
he watches you. interviews, live performances, listening parties. that's what he meant, he wasn't some creep that followed around people he liked. probably.
she nodded her head as she looked up at the taller boy, still shocked that one of her favorite celebrities came up to her. y/n didn't even see him walk in, and now here he was, asking for a picture. "yeah! and i would assume you listen to me, hm?"
chris nodded happily, a grin on his face as he stared into her eyes with adoration. y/n was so much prettier in real life. now, he could really see all of her facial features, he could see the features that made her special, "yes! i love your music so fucking much. it always brings me up whenever i'm down, you're really a huge part in my life."
y/n made a gesture with her hands, putting them over her heart as she looked at chris with her doe eyes, "that means so much to me, chris. you're so sweet, thank you."
she couldn't help but wrap her arms around the boy, and chris only welcomed her warmly, taking in the scent of her perfume as his head rested on the h/c-girls shoulder. she smelled as good as she looked. damn, the things he'd do just to have her perfume on his nightstand.
fuck, the things he'd do just for her love, even. he would steal for her, and he had just met the girl. no, it felt like they've been friends for an eternity, and now they were just meeting again for the first time in a while. that's the real story. it's not fake.
"i saw you on the screens
i know we're meant to be."
matt opened the door again, beckoning all of his friends and his brother out the door of the old diner. he watched as chris stood still, leaning against the wall as he stated over at y/n. she was making small talk with her waitress as she signed on the bill.
chris couldn't get enough of the girl after that interaction they had. he couldn't get her out of his mind, she was just there, clouding all of his senses with nothing but y/n.
"hey, buddy!" matt snapped, and chris turned to look over at his brother who just stared at him with suspicion in his gaze, "are you coming or not? we don't have all night, y'know."
the younger boy shrugged, turning back to look at that beautiful girl, "i'll take an uber home. you guys can take madison to her hotel and nate to his house, i just have a few things to do."
matt sighed quietly, worry and suspicion flashing across his features as he looked at his brother. he just shrugged it off before walking out the door, and chris smiled when he heard the door shut.
he had things to do tonight, important things. his brothers wouldn't care if he was out late tonight, right? i mean, after all, he had to do this. it was important.
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comment to be on this taglist! @livialifesblog @zayyluvz @snowysosturn @mirioosos @1800-love-me
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selfloverrrrrr · 4 months
Note
Pls write a yandere Gojo who is convinced reader is his soulmate, but reader doesn’t know it all; she only notices him staring at her a lot, and she thinks he hates her so she tries to avoid him, which just frustrates him more. This goes on until a guy (Nanami maybe?) asks her on a date while Gojo was eavesdropping. Gojo finally snaps (maybe kidnaps reader and makes her promise to turn Nanami down or something idk)
I keep thinking about this
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Soulmates~
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Warnings : Noncon kissing, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative, soulmate Au....
Summary: Nanami invite y/n on a date. But Gojo believes that's his soulmate. Gojo won't let Nanami take from him what's his!
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Masterlist
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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Me and Gojo were friends from high school. We were good friends from then... I didn't know he likes me. Nobody did. Nobody knew that Gojo Satoru has a crush on me. Oh no... that's not a crush that's obsession. He was obsessed with me. Always stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me at college. But he never let anyone notice that.
But high school was 10 years ago. We're adults now. We all work for jujutsu high now. But still gojo didn't changed. He's still stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me anytime he sees me. But he still never let anyone notice that.
The thing about gojo is that he believes in soulmates so much. He told me too that how much he believes in soulmates. He said his family told him to get married with Utahime, mei mei but he refused. Because he knows they are not his soulmate. I asked him then who does he thinks his soulmate is...he said it's me... But I laughed because I thought he was flirting with me.
Gojo: why are you laughing?
Me: because of your flirting skills...
Gojo: I'm not flirting... I'm telling you the fact...
Me: okey.... tell me the fact.
Gojo: look you know I have infinity.... right?
Me: yeah
Gojo: and you know it too that no-one can touch me if I don't turn off the infinity?
Me: yupp
Gojo: do you know that for infinity users their soulmate can only touch them without turning off the infinity?
Me: what... really?
Gojo: yupp... lemme show you.... *Screams* hey Utahime??? Can you come here for a minute please?
Gojo said and Utahime was talking with Yaga and then came towards us.
Utahime: what happened?
Gojo: nothing... can you touch me...
Utahime: eh? What kind of request is that?
Gojo: just do it please...
Utahime raised her hand and went to touch Gojo's shoulder but her hand stopped because of Gojo's infinity.
Gojo: Now y/n... you touch me
Gojo said putting his hand infront of me. I raised my hand to touch his hand and I TOUCHED HIS HAND??!!
Me: what!!! How??? You definitely turned off your infinity!
Gojo: no I didn't... okey you both try to touch me at the same time.
Me and Utahime tried to touch him at the same time but Utahime's hand stopped but mine didn't!
"You believe me now...?" Gojo asked smirking at me. Are we really soulmates?!
It was a normal day. Nanami asked me for a dinner that night. I agreed with him. Because it was just a friendly dinner... Gojo saw us when Nanami was talking with me about the dinner...
I was in my home. My doorbell rang. I opened the door and it was Gojo. "Oh...hey" I said. "Hello sweetheart" he replied. I let him come inside. He sit on the couch and I sit beside him. "I heard you're going on a date with Nanami?" Gojo asked. "Oh... it's not a date .. it's just a friendly dinner" I replied. "That's definitely a date" he responds. I looked at him confusedly.
"do you want to see me dead?" He asked looking at me. "Wtf... What kind of question was that? Ofcourse not... you're my close friend!" I replied. "We're not just friends y/n...why don't you understand it!?" He said. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"didn't I told you we're soulmates??? I even proved it to you... still you don't believe me???" He asked. "Gojo it's not like that.." I said but gojo cut me off. "I see... You want me to prove you once again...huh? Fine... look at this!" Gojo said and undid his shirt's buttons. There a dark spot on Gojo's left chest. "OMG!!!! What happened???? Are you okey? Did you show it to Shoko???" I asked. Lightly put my hand on the spot.
"y/n look at me..." Gojo said and cupped my face with both of his hands. I looked at him. "This thing happened today morning.... when you agreed with Nanami to go on the date.... Y/n I'm giving you so many proves that We Are Soulmates!!!! Why don't you believe me???" He said and tears coming from his eyes. I just looked at him in shock. " I told my family that I've found the one....you are the one... And now you're hurting me...do you know how fucking much is this hurting???!!!" He said and placed my one hand on his chest buries. "It hurts so much... it's like as if I'm dying.... Do you want me to die??? Y/n I love you too much and you don't even care about me? You don't care that I'm dying??? Only your love can stop this.... please there's still time... please understand me! Please love me!!!" Gojo sobbed. Nonstop tears falling down from his eyes.
"No no no Gojo .....no it's not like that... I'm so sorry.... I won't let you die... fuck... okey I'm sorry I'm so sorry... I'll love you.... I mean I love you... don't worry " I said looked at him with doe eyes. He looked at me with teary eyes. Suddenly he pressed his lips on mine. My eyes widened but I kissed him back.
After a few minutes we pulled away. Gojo looked at me. "Will you go on a dinner with me tonight... please???" He asked. I nodded. He smiled. The he went up to leave. I said bye to him and locked the door.
When I locked the door Gojo turned around and smirked. " Fuck, y/n.... You were so easy to manipulate.... you are mine..... JUST MINE" he whispered and started walking to his home.
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Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💕
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confused-pyramid · 7 months
Text
You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down | s5
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 16.2k
warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, major character death, gun violence, drinking, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 5x01, 5x02, 5x06, 5x09, 5x10, and 5x21
a/n: This season was really hard to write at points (I think we all know which eps I'm talking about lol) but I'm looking forward to brighter days ahead:') Also we get some more tangible tension so yay! Title is from Look After You by The Fray
series masterlist
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"We're not working a case," Derek states matter-of-factly when you arrive at the crime scene. You were woken up early the next morning after getting back from Canada, and on less than four hours of sleep, your brain is struggling to function.
"Why call us to a crime scene?" you ask, walking up to the front door of the house with the rest of the team.
He shrugs. "I was hoping you knew."
You look around, trying to find Aaron, but he's nowhere in sight. He had promised to put in the team request for a few days of leave, but you presume the call came in before he got a chance to do so.
The local police let you survey the scene, explaining that a Dr. Barton got a threatening letter that someone would be murdered everyday that he didn't give up his own son. Once you're done inspecting the body, you turn to JJ, lowering your voice. "Where's Hotch?"
"He's not answering his cell," she says, her lips thinning. "I assume it's on vibrate."
You nod. "I'll try him again."
You step away from the group and click his number in your speed dial, listening to the rings until it reaches his voicemail. It's unlike him to keep his phone on silent, but you know the previous night was tough on everyone. "Hey, it's me." You tell him the address you're heading to for the case, before turning towards the car and lowering your voice. "I know you're probably just asleep, but I don't know...I have that weird feeling again that you know I get...so please just call me back." You take a deep breath, hoping you're being overdramatic, and that you'll see him pull up in a few minutes. "See you soon."
When you get to Dr. Barton's house, he still hasn't called you back. You sit with the doctor, Prentiss, and Reid in his living room, going through his recent patient files, while Morgan, JJ, and Rossi head to the school to find his son.
"Something set this guy off," Emily explains as you start poring over the records. "Odds are it's in your files."
You manage to get through about a dozen before Dr. Barton stands up with a sigh. "My son is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all of these patients in time."
You check your phone again, mostly to see the time, but you also note that there aren't any new calls or messages. "He's right. We need more eyes on this. I can get Hotch and be back in a half hour."
"Keep us updated," Emily says, nodding at you. Concern flashes across her eyes for a millisecond, and you're sure it reflects the look in yours.
The drive to his apartment doesn't take long, and you stalk down the hall, all the way to the end, until you find his door. There's no answer the first time you knock, so you reach for the spare key he gave you, but before you can use it, you realize the door is already unlocked.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you pull your gun out, using it to push open the door carefully. "Aaron? Aaron, it's me."
When the door is ajar, the sight before you almost makes you drop your gun. There's a large bullet hole in the far wall, along with a patch of drying blood and bits of broken glass on the floor. His phone is on the ground as well, and his gun and holster are lying on his dining table.
You crouch down on your heels, trying to calm your breathing, as you take in your surroundings. You need to think logically about this, or you'll be no help at all.
A few things come to you as your mind clears.
His car is still outside.
No blood splatter around the bullet hole.
No drag marks.
You dig your hand around your back pocket and pull out your phone, dialing Garcia as fast as you can. "Overtime shift, Penelope speaking."
Her chipper voice usually calms you down, but right now you need to cut to the chase. "Garcia, it's me. Something's happened to Hotch. You need to get an APB out on him."
Her breath stutters. "What do you mean, something?"
"There's blood on the floor," you whisper, willing your voice not to crack as your throat thickens with tears. "There's also a bullet hole in the wall, probably a .44."
"I'll send the whole team," she says before you cut her off.
"No, don't call the team. They need to finish the case we were assigned. Just tell Emily, since she's expecting me back, but send every other agent in the vicinity."
"On it."
The line clicks off and you release your breath, before standing up again. While you wait for the crime scene techs, you poke around his things in the main area, trying to see if anything has been taken or moved. The only thing you notice before they arrive is that a page has been ripped from his address book.
"Agent L/N?" a voice calls from the doorway.
You lift your hand. "Yeah, in here."
They come inside and get to work immediately, so you step out, just in time for Garcia to call you back. "Y/N, I checked local hospitals for his name, and I didn't find anything at first, but then one of them told me something really strange."
"Garcia," you whisper through gritted teeth. You love her, but she needs to hurry up before you explode. "What was it?"
"Someone dropped off a John Doe at St. Sebastian hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."
Your vision turns black for a moment. He's back. Foyet's back.
You're rushing to your car before she has a chance to hang up.
***
He's still under anesthesia when you arrive at the hospital. He was stabbed nine times. That's what the nurse told you when you flashed your credentials and asked for any information she could give you.
Now, you're standing in his doorway, trying to build up the nerve to approach his sleeping form. Even with all of the bandages covering his arms and abdomen, he somehow looks peaceful. It's been so long since you've seen his brow unfurrowed, his forehead smooth, without the tension that invades his daily life.
After a few minutes, you take a step inside, then another, and suddenly you're right beside him, reaching out to clutch his hand over the bedsheet.
His skin is cold, and you wrap both hands around his to warm it up, if even by just a little. He's usually a furnace, generating his own heat even when it's freezing out, but whenever he gets hurt, his hands turn to ice.
After a minute, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you let him go to answer it. It's just Emily telling you that she's at the hospital with the rest of the team, and you walk out into the hall to talk to them.
Rossi is the first to reach you. He squeezes you into a hug before getting back to business. "You sure it was Foyet?"
"He had Morgan's credentials," you nod, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. Derek glances at you then, and you press your lips together with a nod.
"Did they catch him on the security cam?"
"You could see him dropping Hotch off," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady, "but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital."
Emily shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the E.R."
The nurse from earlier approaches you then, pulling your attention. "Agents, he's waking up."
You shuffle inside and take his hand again as everyone walks in.
His voice is soft when he opens his eyes. "Where am I?"
"In the hospital," Emily whispers, taking care to be mindful of her volume.
He shuts his eyes for a beat. "How did I get here?"
"Foyet drove you." Rossi doesn't frown often, but the lines of his face are clearer than ever. "Can you remember what happened?"
Hotch shakes his head, closing his eyes. "What did he take? The Reaper always takes something from his victims."
"There was an address page missing from your day planner," you whisper, finally finding your voice. "In the B's."
His eyes snap open and he tries to lift his head from the pillow, but he can only wince. "Where are my clothes?"
Emily hands him a plastic bag filled with his belongings, and he ruffles through them, until he finds his wallet. When he opens it, a photograph is stuffed inside, covered in blood spatter. Haley and Jack.
Your breath catches, and he seems to realize what it means at the same moment you do. "Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the B's in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands."
You squeeze his hand involuntarily, and he exhales sharply. "He knows where they live."
***
When the rest of the team rushes off to his old house, you stay with him at the hospital. You get a call soon from JJ that Haley and Jack are just fine, and you are finally able to breathe easy for the first time all day.
"They're okay," you tell him when you hang up the phone. "That was JJ. She said Haley was home and Jack's at a playdate, but Morgan is going to pick him up right now."
He nods slowly, his body relaxing into the bed. "Good. That's good."
"It is," you say, eyeing his movements. It's still enormously difficult to look at him like this, but you won't be able to move forward if you don't know the truth. "Aaron, what happened? What did he do?"
"I don't remember all of it," he says slowly, clearly taking his time with each word. There's no rush, and he knows it. Even if it takes him hours to get it all out, you'll still be here. "I remember him being there when I got home, after I dropped you off. He fired off a shot into the wall, and then I tried to tackle him, but..."
He trails off, and you squeeze his hand tighter, as though trying to tether him to the present moment. After a few shallow breaths, he continues. "I tried to tackle him, and I got him on the ground, but then he overpowered me." You can almost see it in your mind. The picture he's painting as he weaves over the details with startling clarity. "The first one hurt the most."
The first stab. Your eyes close for a beat, like you're trying to hide from his words. The first of nine.
"I don't remember much after that." You can tell he's leaving things out, but you also don't know if you'll be able to handle it if he does tell you everything.
"That's okay," you whisper as his eyes droop down. "You should rest."
He nods slowly as the exhaustion takes over and his grip loosens around your hand as he falls asleep.
You wait by his side for about a half hour, until you spot a familiar face (with a new haircut) dawdling in the hallway.
You stand up in a fervor. "Oh, thank god."
You rush over to Haley and pull her into a hug, which she returns just as forcefully. "JJ called us when she found you, but it's still really good to see your face."
"It's good to see you too," she says with an exhale before letting you go. You look down and see Jack standing next to her, his mouth downturned as his fingers twiddle at his sides. "Do you mind staying with him while I go talk to Aaron?"
You turn around and see that he's blinking his eyes open again. "Not at all." You take Jack's hand with a smile and lead him down the hall.
"I'm sorry if the big men scared you," you tell him once you find a few seats in the waiting area. "I know it was all very sudden."
To your surprise, his face breaks out into a big grin. "Uncle Derek let me turn on the siren!"
"Wow!" you smile, feeling warm laughter echo around your chest. "That sounds super fun."
He nods ecstatically, before leaning his head over to look back up the hall. "Can I see Daddy now?"
Your smile falls as fast as it appeared and you take his hand again, pressing his fingers between yours. "Soon, baby, soon."
***
He wakes up to the sound of faint talking. He can vaguely see you hugging someone, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision as you disappear down the hall.
"How do you feel?" Haley asks as she walks into his hospital room. She doesn't come further than the foot of the bed, but he's just glad to see her here, in one piece.
He clears his throat quietly. "I'm gonna be okay." She doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't want to focus on him right now. "Did they explain to you what's happening?"
She nods slowly, looking at him for another moment. "They said the Marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody."
She looks upset, and it takes him back to the lowest moments of their relationship. "Haley, I'm sorry."
She looks down and the familiar urge to comfort her returns, even while lying in a hospital bed. "Do you know where they're gonna take us?"
"No, I don't." He tries to catch her eye but she won't look at him. "And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."
She finally looks at him then, and her sadness is tinged with exasperation. "Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now."
He doesn't know what else to say but: "I know. I'm sorry." He hopes he's conveying what he means, but it doesn't feel like enough. "We will catch him, and you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you."
She nods minutely, and he takes the small comfort. "Are you sure that we're in danger?"
"Yes." There's little else he's been more sure of.
"And what about you?" she asks, her voice small. "Are you gonna be safe?"
He doesn't want to worry her, but he also doesn't want to lie. "He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can't see him is better than killing me."
Her brow pinches and she pushes her short hair back from her forehead. "Jack wants to come in."
He tries to argue at first, not because he doesn't want to see him, but because it will only make it harder to let him go again, but eventually she convinces him to accede.
She leaves to go get him, and he leans back on the pillows, trying not to let himself sink inside.
~
Haley finds you in the waiting area, with Jack sitting on your lap, in the middle of a game of I Spy.
"Is he ready for him?" you whisper when you see her approach. She nods and you lift Jack off your lap and set him on his feet. "Off you go, buddy. Time to see Daddy."
"Yay!" he cheers before racing down the hall, you and Haley right behind him. She steers him into the correct room, and he jumps onto the bed before either of you can stop him.
There's a quiet chorus of 'be careful's before he grunts, "Don't worry. It's okay. The doctors made sure that I'm completely fine." He turns to the small boy with a smile you haven't seen in days. "Did Mommy tell you that you two are gonna take a trip?"
Jack nods once, moving his chin up and down dramatically. "Yeah."
"So I'm not gonna see you for a while."
Jack frowns. "Why?" The word sounds so small out of his mouth, and your heart cracks in your chest.
"Well, think about it like when Daddy goes away for work. Only this time you and Mommy get to go someplace."
Jack ponders this for a few seconds, before crawling up again and wrapping his arms around his dad's neck. "Are you okay?"
"I'm very proud of you." It's a father's answer. The kind of response that doesn't tell the truth, but hides the pain with love. "Every single day. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay."
Haley says another goodbye and grabs Jack's hand before leading him out of the room. She gives you another hug, squeezing extra tight for the last second. "It's not his fault."
"Of course it isn't," you whisper, letting her pull back.
"No," she whispers, closing her eyes. "I mean, don't let him blame himself for this."
He's one of the most stoic people you know, but he can also be so transparent sometimes. "I won't. I'll be here."
"He needs you," she says with a sad smile. "He's always needed you, but he especially needs you now."
She doesn't let you respond before she's tugging Jack down the hall. You watch as she exits the side door of the wing, and only turn back when you can't see her anymore. She's one of your longest friends, and you won't be able to see her or her son for god knows how long.
When you step back into the room, you stand at the foot of his bed, trying to gauge what he needs from you, but then you see his expression. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his mouth twists as you rush forward and grab his hand, squeezing it between yours with the grip of someone holding onto a life preserver.
"They'll be okay," you whisper, trying to keep your own tears back. "We'll get through this."
He nods, his eyes still shining. You move to sit in the chair beside him, but he tugs you back, pulling you closer. You understand the desperate look in his eyes, the need for connection and comfort from someone you care about that you've seen in yourself on so many occasions.
Slipping your shoes off, you tuck the sheet into his side and carefully climb onto the little hospital bed, taking care to avoid any of the wires and tubes. Once you're sure you're not pulling on anything, you curl up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. His skin is warmer than it was earlier, and you take solace in the fact that he's going to be okay. Maybe not now, but he will be.
Your breaths synchronize with his and you listen to the beeping of the heart monitor as your own heart rate calms down. There's a feeling tugging at your spine, filling you up and threatening to spill over, but you shove it down, knowing it will be too much right now. You don't have the words to describe the emotions circulating through your brain, so you stick with what you know. "I love you." It's quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you. "Thank you for staying alive."
"You're welcome," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the monitor. "I love you too."
***
You leave the hospital the next morning with a plan. He's still asleep when you wake up, so you get up carefully and thank the nurses one more time before heading out.
You make two stops on the way to his apartment, and this time, you use your spare key to unlock the front door. The crime scene crew cleaned the blood off the floor, and you told Rossi to get them to spackle the hole in the wall, for at least a temporary fix, but there's still an air about the place. It was just starting to feel like his home, and now it's soiled, once again.
You shut the door behind you and drop your bags to the ground, surveying the place one last time for any damage or mess you missed earlier. When everything seems fine, you get to work.
An hour later, you slump back against the wall and toss the packet of instructions to the ground. In front of you is a freshly installed security system, with a door proximity sensor and keypad for when he leaves the house in a hurry.
You can already hear the arguments coming, but you don't care anymore. You won't be able to sleep knowing he's in here, all alone, without anything to keep Foyet from coming back and finishing the job.
For someone who has as little of a technical background as you do, you're impressed with how quickly you were able to get the system running, and you test it a couple of times, turning it on and off and checking the doors, before you finally pull his door closed and lock it behind you.
***
The doctors don't release him until the end of the week, but once he's able to walk again, he calls you to get him from the hospital. By the time he signs his discharge papers and makes the phone call, you're already almost there, and as much as he hates putting you out on a weekend, he can't help the satisfaction that rumbles through him.
The drive to his apartment is mostly silent, with him just trying to stay still as you take the turns carefully, and drive five under the speed limit. When you arrive, you hold the bag of salves and ointments for him as you take his arm, helping him down the hall and to his front door.
He moves to grab his key, but you stop him with a forceful "Wait!"
"I can unlock my own door," he grumbles, but you just shake your head, taking the key from him and turning it slowly in the lock. The moment it swings open, a loud beeping fills the air, and you rush forward to type something into the keypad by his door. Wait...keypad? "When did tha-"
"Before you argue," you jump in, clearly anticipating his disgruntlement, "it's for me, okay."
He raises an eyebrow and you glare at him, but there's no effort behind it. "I mean, it's obviously for you, but still...it's for my peace of mind too."
You're rambling makes him crack a smile for the first time in days, and he nods slowly. "Okay."
Your mouth snaps shut and you look at him with a meek smile. "Okay."
You help him get settled on the couch, and he waits there as you scrounge up some food from the kitchen. He's not sure he has anything perishable, but you manage to put together a comforting bowl of pasta with jarred tomato sauce that makes him feel a little more at home.
As the evening turns to night, he catches himself glancing at his watch more often than not, and eventually you catch on too.
"Is it time?" you ask, your voice gentle.
After a breath, he nods, and you reach across the coffee table to grab his bag of supplies from the doctor. You lay the salve and extra gauze on the table, and wait for him to make the next move, a decision he accepts gratefully.
He's been injured before. He knows how painful it is to sanitize a wound, and especially one as deep and grotesque as his. He just needs a few moments to accept the fact that he's...scared.
"I can do it," he says once he's ready, before reaching for the salve. The simple motion makes him wince and you jump in right away, grabbing it for him and undoing the top.
"Let me," you whisper, your words somewhere between a statement and a question. "Please."
He can already feel his stitches pulling, just from the simple act of swiveling his body to face you, so he gives in with a quick nod.
He doesn't look at you as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He's not embarrassed - you've never pitied him, even at his lowest moments - but he needs the semblance of privacy as he exposes his injuries to the open air.
The air feels cold as he pulls his undershirt over his head, and you get to work immediately, peeling back the old layer of gauze as slowly as you can. The sections directly over his wounds stick slightly, and he grits his teeth against the pain as you gently tug them free, making sure to avoid pulling his stitches.
"Do you want a break?" you ask once the gauze has been fully removed. He shakes his head, needing this to be over as soon as possible, but when he meets your eyes, he sees them welling up with tears.
He glances down at his bare torso, his eyes darting over the jagged scars ranging from his stomach to his collarbone. Your breath stutters as you take it in with him, and he looks at you. "He made sure we'd match."
He sees you rapidly blinking away the tears that rush forward, and he wants to comfort you somehow, but he doesn't know what to do. You help him lean back on the armrest, so you can apply the salve around each of his injuries, and as your fingers press into his skin, he can't help but be reminded of his childhood. The pressure of your hands as you wrapped him with bandages, the warmth of your breath when you leaned in to inspect your work.
It's usually a sad memory when he thinks back to his childhood, but with you, it was always good. He watches as you slowly tape the new layer of gauze around his abdomen, and even as tears slide down your cheeks, the way you look at him doesn't change.
"All done," you whisper after pressing on the final pieces of tape. "How do you feel?"
Anxious. Terrified. Lonely. Guilty. "Good. Thank you."
***
"Hey, it's Emily."
"What's up, Em?" you say, your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you hop around, trying to get your shoes on before work.
"How was your weekend?"
You pause. "Fine?" The question isn't out of the ordinary, you're just not sure why she called to ask you that when she's going to be seeing you in person in about twenty minutes. "How was yours?"
"Oh, you know." She sounds distracted, and you feel a smile pull at your lips as you realize she's avoiding something.
"Em...is there a reason you called? You know, given that we're both on our way to the same place."
She clears her throat, and you hear the indecision in her voice, even over the phone. "I know this is kind of a weird question, but would you mind if I picked up Hotch for work this morning. I left late last night, so JJ was able to brief me early, and I figured he could use a headstart."
You stop your movements, straightening up and lifting your hand to your cell. It's not at all what you were expecting her to say, but that's not all you're confused about. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask me first, though. We're all teammates."
She makes an little noise that you don't recognize. "Yeah...but you two are different."
You don't know what to say to that, so you just wait for her to keep going. Emily was never very good at uncomfortable silences, so after a few moments, she's back. "Anyway...I'll grab Hotch and see you in 30?"
You try to hide your grin, even though no one can see you. "Sounds like it."
"Bye."
The phone clicks off, and you tuck it back into your pocket, still smiling. You're already in a better mood than normal, because after 34 days of medical leave, Aaron comes back to work today.
You finish clasping your shoe and head out the door, more relaxed this time. With Emily picking up Aaron, you're not in a rush anymore. You take the drive at a leisurely pace, and when you arrive at the office, you run into Spencer by the front of the building.
"Wait up!" you call out, jogging over to him before he gets in the elevator. "Let me get that." You slide the strap of his book bag off his shoulder and sling it onto yours. He nods in thanks and tucks his crutch under his arm as he presses the button for your floor.
"I thought I'd be used to the crutches by now, but I keep tripping over everything." You scrunch your brow with amusement as he frowns down at his leg. "The doctors say it's healing well, though."
The elevator doors open and you step in front of him to get the door across the hall. "Does it hurt?"
He shrugs. "It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."
The statement isn't exactly comical, but his deadpan tone makes you snort as you hold the door, and he smiles as he passes by you. You follow him to Garcia's lair, and she perks up upon seeing the both of you.
"My babies," she grins, pulling out a chair for Spencer. "Sit, sit."
You let out a laugh as you place his bag on the floor next to him. "I'm older than you."
"Who's counting?" she throws back, typing something furiously into her computer. She turns around a moment later, just in time to swat Spencer's hand away from the tin of cookies sitting on her table. "No, no, no."
"What?" he complains, gaping at her.
She swats him again, before pulling the tin away from him. "Get away, you. These are for Hotch."
"Butterscotch?" you ask, glancing down at the box. His preference for butterscotch cookies was something you used to tease him about when you were kids. Butterscotch Hotch.
Penelope nods and lifts the edge of the lid, implicitly offering you a cookie. When you take one, Spencer throws his hands up into the air. "Why does she get one? I get shot in the leg and I still don't get any cookies."
You laugh and break off half of your cookie, which he takes from you the moment it's in your palm. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth, not bothering to swallow it before he pipes up again. "You know he's gonna hate the attention."
"It's cookies," Garcia pouts, "not cake."
Spencer shrugs. "He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway."
"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."
You don't know how to weigh in to this discussion, mostly because you know more about how he's feeling than they do, but also because the idea of speculating on his recovery without him here feels like a betrayal.
"What do you think?"
You look up and realize that Spencer was directing this question to you. Swallowing down the last bit of your cookie, you cough once to clear your throat. "I think he's been through a lot, but sometimes coming back to work is the best way to take your mind off of things. Foyet was in his home. I don't think staring at the same walls that used to have bullet holes in them is exactly healthy either."
Spencer and Penelope both stare at you for a moment, before nodding and looking down. They remind you of two children who have just been reprimanded, and you smile to soften the sentiment. "I love you guys for caring about this, but we just have to trust that he's okay."
"Yeah," Penelope nods, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. "Are you okay? This can't have been easy for you, either."
"I'm fine," you say too quickly. "Nothing happened to me." It's not a lie, exactly. You weren't the one who was stabbed. Nine times. "I've just been keeping him company after work, and helping with some of his post-hospital care checklist."
"He's lucky to have you," Penelope says softly, to which Spencer nods.
"He was great too after I got shot," you add, feeling oddly defensive of your friendship. "He stayed with me for a long time when my dad was gone."
She smiles at you sadly, before holding the tin out for you. "Want another cookie?"
You let out a weak laugh as Spencer chuffs behind you, and you shake your head. "No thanks."
"Do you think he'll like them?" Her voice sounds earnest, and you nod, knowing what it's like to want so desperately to understand someone who's as closed off as he seems at times.
"Spence, Y/N, there you guys are."
You turn around to see JJ, her face lined with tension. "Are you ready for us?"
She nods. "Grab your go bag."
***
He's been erratic all day. When he snapped at Garcia earlier for missing the antipsychotics link, you wanted to throttle him, especially when you remembered the cookies she had waiting for him in her office.
The thought that maybe Spencer was right keeps flashing through your mind as you watch him get frustrated with everyone, including himself. When you all arrive at the Darrin Call's father's house, where he and a young boy he kidnapped are waiting, Aaron instructs Emily to speak with the lieutenant on scene to figure out what you're dealing with.
"The kid's in there," you hear him say, "We've got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. Call needs a distraction. He's focused on the old man."
Emily glances back at the house as she ties her hair back. "For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out."
"I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate."
"You do that and someone else dies."
The man just shrugs. "Either Call or a child murderer...flip a coin."
"It doesn't have to end like that." You can see how hard she's trying to make the lieutenant understand, but sometimes the locals just don't listen. "We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die."
There's movement behind you and you turn around at the last second as Aaron stalks past you and towards the house.
"Hotch," you call out, but he doesn't look back. "Aaron. Aaron!"
He's almost at the front door, and your feet start moving without you realizing it. You make it within a few feet of the front gate before two pairs of arms seize you from behind, halting your momentum.
"Let him go," Dave whispers as he and Derek release you. "We have to trust him."
"He's not thinking straight," you grit out, unable to tear your eyes away from the closed door as you step forward again. He wasn't wearing his vest, and you can't remember if you saw his gun in his holster. You close your eyes, wracking your brain. Think, goddamnit.
Derek grabs you again as you try to make a break for it, anticipating your movements before you even know what you're doing. "Rossi's right. We have to trust him. We can't help him if we rush inside now."
"We can't help him out here either!" Your voice sounds frenzied in your ears, but he doesn't loosen his grip, even as you try to shove him off of you.
"You know we're right." He looks at you sternly, and your resolve diminishes as reason starts to set in. "Going inside will only make it worse."
Emily comes up from behind you and takes your arm, leading you back to the street in front of the house. You back up, but you don't turn around, ready to rush in the moment anything changes.
"What's he doing?" she asks Derek, her voice quiet, like she doesn't want you to hear.
"Stalling," he says simply. "He's got nothing to lose."
Your breath catches and you lift your hand to your chest, clutching the top of your vest like it's a lifeline. You want to scream at them, scream that he has everything to lose. He has a son, and an ex-wife who loves him, and he has you.
"You got the shot?"
"Negative."
He suddenly appears in the front of the door, but you can tell he's angling his body to block the visual of the shot. What is he doing?
The door opens for a split second, and the little boy runs down the porch and into the arms of one of the SWAT members. It shuts as fast as it opened up, and you only manage to see his face for a moment before he disappears into the house again.
For a minute, there's only silence, until the air is pierced with the sound of three gunshots, one after the other. Your body visibly flinches and you throw yourself forward and over the gate, pulling out your gun at the last moment as you breach the front door.
When you storm into the living room, Aaron is putting cuffs on Darrin. The father is dead in his recliner at the center of the room.
"What happened?" Dave asks from behind you.
He purses his lips. "I couldn't stop him." It's then that he finally looks up at you, but all you can do is glare. You don't know if you've ever been angrier in your life, and definitely not at him.
His brow dips with a mix of confusion and remorse, but you just stuff your gun back in its holster, spin around, and stalk out of the house. The fresh air outside feels like a welcome respite from the emotions swirling around inside of you, and you turn your face to the sky as your brain fires off millions of questions at once.
When did he get so reckless?
Is this all because of Foyet? The need to feel like he's getting something done, with his family on lockdown?
He comes out of the house then, and you're practically shaking from the relief that he is okay, but the anger isn't fading. You can feel it flooding your veins with each breath you take.
He hands Call off and approaches you slowly, stopping in front of you with a look you don't recognize.
"This is the job," he says simply, his voice almost cold. "You know what you signed up for."
"I know what I signed up for?" Your face twists with disbelief and you look at him with contempt. "Fuck you, Hotch." His face drops slightly and it only feeds your fight. You know him better than anyone else in this world, and that also means you know exactly how far you can push him until he cracks.
"This is what we do." His voice is tight, and you see your anger reflected in his eyes. "You knew that when you joined the team."
Emily and Dave exit the house, and you can feel their eyes flickering over to you, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.
"No," you grit out, shaking your head. "You don't get to be angry with me. You don't get to say that to me."
He looks at you for a beat before his face falls and you see all the fight leave him. He sighs, his brow pinching. "You're right."
You can practically see the war going on inside his head. The battle between fear and action, where there are no winners.
You nod as you look down at the ground, and he reaches forward to take your hand. He squeezes it tightly, before lifting it to his chest. "Y/N." I love you, I'm sorry.
You nod. "I know." I'm sorry too.
***
You've been looking at the text JJ sent you for the better part of an hour. Something's going on. Strauss was in Hotch's office and it looked bad.
You're reminded of his suspension and the two long weeks you worked here without him, and you internally resolve that it won't be happening again if you have any say at all.
The next morning, you're one of the last people to arrive, and you walk into a conversation that Spencer is having with Emily at his desk.
"You're not gonna believe this," he says, turning to you and lifting his hands dramatically. "Some moron just posted a blog called 'What would Carl Sagan do?' and it's completely illogical."
"L/N, what did I miss?"
You spin around to see Derek strutting into the bullpen, his phone held up in his hand.
"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown.
He looks at you expectantly, and you start to feel like you're on the outside of something you should know. "All the emails from Hotch..."
You yank your phone from your pocket and refresh your email. "I don't have any new ones."
"Me neither," Reid chimes in from next to you.
Derek doesn't wait another moment before he's barreling past you and up the stairs to Aaron's office.
"What was that about?" Spencer asks, a confused look on his face.
"I don't know," you say honestly, "but I think we're gonna find out soon."
~
"You wanted to see me?"
He nods and you step into his office, shutting the door behind you. Ever since his private conversation with Derek this morning, you've been obnoxiously curious about what's been going on with the team, but you also know when not to overstep your boundaries.
"Take a seat." He beckons to the couch on the far wall, and he sits down across from you when you plop down. "We have to talk about something."
"If you say Strauss suspended you again-" He cuts you off with a lift of his hand. You look at him sheepishly and nod. "You were saying..."
"This is going to sound odd, but just hear me out." You're starting to get worried, but he doesn't look anxious, so that's a start. You nod, and he continues. "The bureau thinks that my ability to lead this team has been compromised. They've been questioning me since Foyet's attack, and they're not entirely wrong."
You want to refute this, but you've also been questioning some of his actions as of late. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that you won't have his back if it comes down to it. "They can't fire you. The whole team will fight back if they even try."
He looks at you with something that resembles concern. Concern? "They won't fire me...because I'm stepping down."
"What?" you burst out, unable to help your volume. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week, but I'm not leaving this team."
You think you have an idea of where this is going, but his eyes are still tracking your movements, like they do when he's worried about how you'll react. You don't know how it could get much worse than this, but then you realize he hasn't told you who will be replacing him.
"I told Morgan to take my place until we catch Foyet."
There it is. You don't expect it to sting as much as it does. "Oh."
Your voice sounds small to your own ears, and you clear your throat to keep the emotion out. This isn't a personal decision, it's professional. If Strauss was telling you this now, it probably wouldn't faze you. So why does it hurt coming from him?
"Strauss wasn't happy with your decision to not take the New York position," he explains, his eyes finding yours. "You know I think you deserve more leadership roles. It was her that suggested Morgan for it, and I couldn't argue when she was already so unsure about letting me promote internally."
"I get it," you nod. Your tone a bit sharper than expected, even though you understand where the decision came from. Derek deserves this position too. "I do, I promise."
He raises his eyebrows with a check in, and after a moment, you finally nod. It's okay. We're good.
"I'll see you in the morning?"
You dip your chin. "Good night."
***
"I can't believe Hotch is stepping down."
Penelope, Emily, Spencer, and JJ are all unabashedly watching Derek as he briefs Strauss on the case he chose for today. You've been trying not to look, but every few minutes, something snags your attention.
"Morgan said it's business as usual," Emily adds, her brow furrowed as she watches them converse.
Penelope doesn't seem eased. "So we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?"
Spencer shrugs. "After Foyet, I think we'd have to be ready for anything."
Derek finishes speaking with Strauss then, and you stand up as he asks Emily to call Rossi for the briefing. He looks official with his ironed button-down, and you can't help but wonder if he's trying to emulate Aaron.
You flash him a cheeky smile as he walks towards the conference room, but he just brushes past you. 
~
Derek steps into his new role effectively, and you even notice him provide extra feedback to everyone throughout the case. Hotch has a bit of a difficult time stepping down at first, but you know it comes from habit, not distrust.
When you're back at the office later that night, you look up to see that he is still in his office, furiously jotting something down, even though his responsibilities have been greatly diminished. You don't know why you expected the demotion to make him want to cut back a bit.
Derek is the only person still in the bullpen when you take a seat again. You finished up the last of your paperwork, so you start to pack up your stuff, but then your interaction from earlier crosses your mind again.
Latching your bag closed, you stand up and perch on the edge of Derek's desk. "Hey, boss, how's the responsibility feel?"
"Fine," he mutters, his tone snippier than you've ever heard it.
"A lot more paperwork than you were expecting, huh?"
He doesn't look at you, so you reach forward to tap the back of his hand. "Derek, come on, what's going on with you?"
You brace for him to snap at you again, but then he just sighs, setting his pen down. "You're not angry with me, right?"
"What?" You don't know where this is coming from, seeing as how he's been the one who's been avoiding you all day. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"Why?" he repeats, his face twisted with disbelief. "I basically stole this position out from under you."
You shake your head forcefully, putting your hand over his on the desk. "Not even close, hon. Anything on my end was bureau politics, but that's just one side of it. You deserve this just as much as I would have. You've even been at the BAU longer than I have."
He's silent for a moment, before he turns his hand under yours and clasps it gently. You give his hand a squeeze before bringing your other one up to his cheek. "You're doing a great job. You were an amazing leader out there today. Hotch picked you well."
Derek leans into your hand for a beat, before letting out another sigh. "Thanks."
"Seriously, Derek," you say with a smile. "This might have been one of his best professional decisions yet."
That makes him laugh, before shaking his head. "Nah, his best decision was bringing you to this team."
Your chest fills with warmth and you lean forward to pull him into a hug. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, and you settle into the hug, turning away from the office light upstairs and trying to ignore the fact that Aaron hasn't looked up from his desk since you started talking.
***
"Agent Hotchner, before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."
Karl Arnold, the Fox, has been taunting each of you throughout the whole day, and right when you finally thought you were done, he drew you right back in. You follow Hotch and Prentiss back into the interrogation room.
"So you think you found my admirer."
"No," Aaron says simply. "We found the killer."
Arnold grins. "With my help, of course."
"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you..." Emily sneers, "lost."
Arnold turns to her, and the look in his eyes makes your skin crawl. "My love, your guy is far from lost."
Hotch shakes his head, turning to the door. "We're done."
"So is he." All three of you spin back around, much to his amusement. "'Look at what I have done.' It's quite brilliant, you know?"
"We will find whoever sent you that."
"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."
Aaron immediately starts flipping through the file on the table, shoving pictures and papers aside as he searches for something. Something about Arnold's tone sends your mind reeling and you grab the journal in front of you and start flipping through it as well.
"What's going on?" Emily asks, coming up behind you.
Arnold just laughs. "He's torturing him."
"Who?"
He ignores her. "It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."
You reach one of the bookmarked pages, and the symbol that greets you almost makes you drop the journal. "Aaron..."
His eyes snap to your hands as his skin turns white. "Foyet."
The three of you rush out of the interrogation room, accompanied by the disturbing sound of Arnold's laughter echoing behind you.
Just before the door shuts behind you, you hear his final words. "He knew you'd come."
***
The whole team spends days with only one goal in mind: find and capture Foyet. JJ works with you and Garcia to track prescription medications that he would be on given his self-inflicted injuries, and Spencer, Emily, and Aaron put together a geographic profile using the letters from the Fox and the proximity of nearby pharmacies. Derek's role as acting unit chief keeps him busy all on its own, but he manages to keep the team on track as he turns any new cases that come in to other teams.
When JJ returns from a local pharmacy with the discovery that many prescription meds have over-the-counter alternatives, the focus shifts. Garcia narrows down the list, and brings back a list of names that is way too long to feasibly question.
"153 names," you huff, leaning over her shoulder as she scrolls down the list.
Emily frowns. "Well, he's not gonna use his own name."
"What kind of aliases should we be looking for?"
You all consider this, before Derek chimes in. "He could have easily stolen someone's identity."
Hotch shuts that idea down immediately. "No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case."
"A victim, maybe," you guess, "or a cop?"
Garcia doesn't find anything on the initial search, but thankfully Spencer suggests another approach. "Guys, Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."
Emily frowns. "Like an anagram or something?"
Spencer walks over to the white board and writes out George Foyet, before fiddling around with the spellings of possible anagrams. You walk up behind him and follow his movements along the board. "You see something, Spence?"
He shakes his head. "Not yet."
"Spencer," you interrupt as the realization comes to you, "he named himself The Reaper."
He pauses for a beat, before switching over to scrawling out possible anagrams for The Reaper instead. After a moment, he's done. "Peter Rhea."
Penelope is already searching. "There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington."
Rossi nods, a satisfied look on his face. "We found him."
***
Garcia sends out the address of an apartment in his name, and you drive over with Hotch, who doesn't say a word the whole way over. You keep glancing at him, trying to be discreet, but the tension in his posture doesn't fade, even after the breakthrough.
The apartment ends up being empty, but when you all go inside, there's a laptop sitting on the center table. Emily dials Garcia the moment you realize that the files on it are being remotely deleted, and when she hacks in, she comes across a series of surveillance photos that make you gasp out loud. "Oh my god, isn't that-"
"That's the US Marshall protecting my family." His face looks frozen with stress as he dials Marshall Kassmeyer's number. When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron stalks out of the apartment and to the SUVs parked out front. He doesn't wait for you to get in, before he's already driving off.
"Where is he going?" Emily calls out as she exits the building behind you.
"Kassmeyer's house," you say, almost certain that you're correct. With the knowledge that his family is most likely in immediate danger, there is nothing anyone could do to stop him from trying to save them. "I'm gonna follow him."
"Here," Rossi says, tossing his car keys to you. You accept them gratefully and speed off down the road.
~
Kassmeyer is bleeding out when you get to his house. Aaron is already inside, trying to get him to explain what happened, and when he describes how Foyet taunted him and stabbed him, you resist the urge to take Aaron's hand.
"Sam," he says suddenly, leaning over him. "I need to understand. Does he know where Jack and Haley are?"
Your heart rate skyrockets as Kassmeyer mumbles another apology. If Foyet knows where they are, you don't know if any of you will be able to get there in time.
The paramedics rush in then, and they carry Sam out to the awaiting ambulance as he refuses sedation. Aaron runs out after them and throws himself into the back of the ambulance before you can catch up.
~
Without any new leads, there's nowhere for you to go, so you wait out front in your SUV as you wrack your brain for where Foyet would have told Haley and Jack to go. You don't know how long it takes until another agent calls you from the hospital with the news that Marshall Kassmeyer died in surgery.
The news hits you like a ton of bricks. One more body you can attribute to The Reaper. "Is Agent Hotchner there?"
The voice is tinny over the line. "He took one of the SUVs and left a few minutes ago."
"Where?" You can hear how frantic your voice sounds, but you don't care. "Where did he go?"
"I'm not sure," the agent says. "He sped away before anyone could ask."
You hang up the phone and turn the car on, before pulling onto the street and calling the team line. Garcia picks up on the first ring.
"Sam died in surgery," you explain as you turn at the end of the street. "Hotch is already gone, but I'm gonna go to the hospital now in case someone has more info."
"Okay, honey," she says, patching in the rest of the team. When they answer, she repeats your statement, before she gets cut off. "Guys, Hotch is calling Foyet."
"Patch us in," Derek instructs over the line, before going silent. You mute yourself as well, before turning back to the road.
"Agent Hotchner."
Foyet's voice makes you nauseous, and you can practically hear the grin behind his words.
"If you touch her..." Aaron doesn't even finish the threat, but you can feel the rage within it.
"Be gentle, like I was with you?"
Your eyes prick with tears as you remember the scars that are now a permanent fixture on his body. The matching scars. The idea of Haley ending up the same way, or Jack-
"What the hell took you so long?" Foyet complains, his tone playful. "I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."
Aaron doesn't answer him, and the anger is almost palpable over the line.
"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."
"I'm not frustrated," he finally responds. "You're more predictable than you think."
"Am I?"
He starts to recount the tale of Foyet's life, weaving in details that you didn't know from his childhood and the pain he was causing before he was even old enough to drive. You suppose this was what all of those late nights at the office were for. You hope they were worth it.
"That's the thing, George," he continues, his voice suddenly softer. It's like he's pleading with him. "This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"
There's silence for a few moments, and you can hear your heartbeat in your skull. Eventually Foyet comes back. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair."
Your heart falls into your stomach. He has her. He already has her.
"She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her."
Just when you think that might be the worst of it, he continues. "Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"
He has them both. You can barely see the road through the anger and fear that is coursing through your veins. Another phone rings and Foyet answers it, leaving his line with Hotch on as well. "Mrs. Hotchner. I'm here. Open the gate and I'll drive in."
You can't hear her reply, before Foyet returns to the call you're listening to. "Aaron? I really gotta go."
The call disconnects, and you can't breathe. Open the gate. The gate. What gate?
Think, think, goddamnit think.
The answer hits you like a truck. "His house. They're at his old house."
Emily whispers something that sounds like "shit" and you swerve across the lanes to make a u-turn. "I'm heading there now."
Assuming Aaron was already heading back after leaving the hospital, he would reach the house before any of you. You can only hope he'll be there in time.
Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you're gripping the steering wheel, and when Garcia patches you all in for another call from Foyet, the tears are already flowing down your cheeks.
"Aaron?"
It's Haley's voice. You gasp out loud from the relief that she's still alive.
"You're okay?" She sounds so scared, but at least she's alive. That's all you can focus on right now.
Aaron answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm fine."
"But...he said that..." The realization hits her, and she lets out a small sob. "Oh, Aaron."
"He can hear us, right?"
"Yes."
His voice is softer then, wet with tears. "I am so sorry. Haley, show him no weakness, no fear."
"I know." Of course she does. She was married to a profiler for years. She knows what all of this means, but she doesn't deserve any of it. "Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh..."
"No," he says gently. "Sam is fine."
Foyet's voice is like the hiss of a snake as it joins the call. "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?" His voice is too close to the phone. You want to scream for him to get away from her, but you're not supposed to be listening, and your car isn't moving fast enough.
"He's trying to scare you, Haley." His voice is trembling, and you can hear the tightness behind each of his words.
When Foyet mentions the deal, your stomach roils with nausea. You can picture the exact look on Aaron's face as he blames himself for this entire situation, even though it's happening to him, not because of him.
"Don't react."
Haley's voice is shaking too as she whispers, "What is he talking about?"
"Tell Jack I need him working the case."
"What?" She sounds confused, and that's when you remember the signal he told you about. The words that only Jack knows that are meant to keep him safe from situations exactly like this.
"Tell Jack I need him working the case," he repeats, his voice steadier. But all of it goes away the moment Haley hands her son the phone.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, buddy." His voice cracks and you feel your heart crack with it. The tears are rushing down your cheeks now, and you wipe them out of your eyes with the back of your hand as you get closer to the house. But not close enough.
Aaron tells him to work the case again, and he gives Haley a hug before rushing out of the room.
"He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-Man." Foyet chuckles, before yelling out. "I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"
Aaron ignores him, and you feel his focus return. "Is he gone?"
"Yes." Haley's voice is strong, and you release a single sigh of relief as you press the gas pedal down as hard as you can.
Aaron's voice returns and you can hear the anguish as he speaks. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."
"You'll hurry, right?" The fear in her voice breaks your heart, and you want to assure her that you're all doing everything you can, but you're still a few streets away.
"I know you didn't sign on for this."
Neither did you.
She echoes your thoughts. "Neither did you."
His voice breaks into a sob. "I'm sorry for everything."
"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh."
"Haley..."
"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron." Her words sound so final, and you can't imagine what Foyet is pointing at her right now, but you can only hope that Aaron gets there before it's too late. "I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him." She sounds almost resolute, and your body floods with hope for a split second. "Promise me."
His breathing is ragged as he whispers, "I promise."
Three gunshots ring out and the wheel jerks in your hand as a painful sob wrenches from your throat. No, no, no.
~
You race out of your car the moment you pull to a stop in front of the house. There's only one other SUV outside, and you don't give yourself a moment to think as you rush inside, lifting your gun at the last second.
The front foyer is empty, but then a jagged thumping fills the air and you dart around the corner to find Aaron beating Foyet to a pulp. You can tell from where you're standing that he's already dead, but that doesn't seem to matter to him.
"Aaron!" you yell, hoping to break his reverie. His hands are covered in blood as he pounds the man's face in, and he doesn't look up until you grab him from behind and yank his arms back. "Aaron, he's dead. He's dead."
He stops moving, and for one single second, everything is still. Then his body pitches forward and he breaks down as he sobs, his hands coming up like he's begging for the pain to go away.
You clutch him as tightly as you can, like if you hold him close enough, he won't fall apart. You can hear the voices of your teammates as they enter the house, but then his head lifts and he pulls himself up, dashing down the hall. You follow after him, rushing past Morgan and Rossi, and you realize where he's going in real time as he runs into his office and kneels down beside his desk.
Please, please, not him. Just not him. He opens the cabinet and you all share a gasp of relief as Jack's little face peeks out, his skin unmarred.
"I worked the case, Daddy. Just like you said."
Aaron reaches in and picks him up, before squeezing him tightly, his little face glancing around the room in confusion.
"You did a great job, buddy." He releases him after a few moments, before handing him off to JJ to go outside and away from the carnage littering the house. You press a kiss to his forehead before she lifts him up and walks out of the room.
Emily looks at you then, concern flashing in her eyes, but you just nod, and she follows JJ, pulling the door closed behind her.
You turn back around just in time to catch Aaron as he collapses to the floor. The weight sends you both to your knees, and he crushes you to him as you hold him as tightly as you can. His sobs mix in with your own, and you try not to let your body shake from the force of your crying, because you need to be strong for him.
He buries his face into your neck, his tears mixing with the blood on his face as it soaks your shirt and vest.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper into his hair. It doesn't feel like enough, but there's nothing else to say. "I'm so sorry."
~
Derek and Emily come back with the paramedics eventually to take him outside to check for injuries, and you're about to follow after them when something catches your eye. A pair of feet invade your periphery as you glance through a doorway down the hall. Oh god.
Your knees buckle and Derek catches you before you stumble forward into her room. You fall to your knees beside her, and you vaguely hear Emily whisper something behind you before there's just silence.
Her eyes are already closed, and if you really wanted to, you could try to pretend that she was just sleeping, but there's too much blood. You reach out to push her short hair back from her forehead, so that you can see her face one last time. One last time.
A sob rips out of you and you take her hand, pressing it to your lips. The scene is suddenly too much, and you close your eyes before letting out a shaky breath. You don't know what your life is going to look like without her presence. What Aaron's life with look like, or Jack's.
You squeeze her hand again before laying it on her stomach, and Emily comes forward then to help you up. Derek holds the door open as she leads you outside, and helps you tear your vest off the moment you hit the fresh afternoon air.
You bend over, hands on your knees, gulping back fresh air and trying not to throw up. Emily pats your back as you take in deep breaths, rubbing comforting circles that help to calm down your heart rate.
When you look up, you spot Aaron sitting on the edge of an ambulance. The medics are cleaning his cuts, and one of them is holding an ice pack to his head, when you walk over to survey the damage.
He doesn't look up when you approach, instead staring at his bloody hands with a look you can't discern. You can't imagine what he must be thinking right now, but if you know him at all, you know that sometimes you don't need to talk.
You reach down and take his hands, holding them in yours with a tight grip that forces him to look at you. Neither of you says anything, but it's okay, because there is nothing left to say. There will be soon, but not right now.
***
"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jess tells you as she slings her purse over her shoulder.
You nod at her as you pick Jack off the ground and swing him up into your arms. "Take your time. We'll be hanging out here."
Aaron beckons for Jess to walk out in front of him before he dips his chin at you. "Thank you again."
"Of course," you smile, shaking your head. They're going to make the last arrangements for the funeral, and the absolute least you can do is watch Jack while they're away.
"Can we watch cartoons?" Jack asks the moment the front door shuts behind them.
"Soon, baby," you laugh lightly, before placing him on the ground and leading him to the kitchen. "We gotta make lunch first."
You throw together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring them to the breakfast table, where Jack is obediently scribbling away at his coloring book. "Here you go, Jack-o-lantern."
He takes a massive bite before you can sit down, but over the next ten minutes, he only manages to finish about half of the sandwich. "I'm done."
"You sure?" you ask, scrunching your face into a playful frown. "I think you got at least a couple more bites in you."
He shakes his head forcefully, before dropping the sandwich onto his plate. You know he doesn't usually eat much, but he hasn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. "Come on, hon, at least another big bite."
"No!" he yells, pushing the plate away from him. Before you can stop him, he jumps off of his chair and races out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.
You hear the door slam shut behind him, and you heave out a sigh before clearing away both of your plates and wiping down the counter. You don't fault him for anything, you just can't believe he has to go through something like this.
He's so young. Younger than you were when you lost your mom. There's some comfort in the fact that he likely won't remember this pain when he's older, but then comes the nausea. The sickening reminder that one day he'll forget about her. Haley, his mother, your best friend's wife, your friend.
You slowly make your way to his room, knocking on the door twice before calling out his name. When he doesn't answer, you twist the knob and gently open the door. "Jack?"
He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit on the floor in front of him. He's fiddling around with a set of colorful wooden blocks, and he only looks at you once you pick one up yourself. The edges have been worn smooth from being tossed around, and you run your fingers against them as you wait for him to speak.
"Did Mommy want to leave?"
You can practically hear your heart crack in two as the block falls from your hand. Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting to scare him.
"No, baby, no," you say quickly, reaching forward to rub your thumb over his cheek. "She loved you more than anything in this world."
He still doesn't look convinced, so you rest your palms on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. "If it was her choice, she would have never left you."
After a moment, his lips jut out into a pout, but he nods once. "Is Daddy gonna leave too?"
The tears rush forward again. You want to tell him that Aaron would never leave him, that he may be gone most nights until after Jack is asleep, and sometimes even before he's up for breakfast, but he would never leave. But you also know that Haley didn't want to either, but sometimes the job takes more than you're willing to give. "He's not going to leave you. Not if he can help it."
That seems to calm him down for the time being, so you take his hand and lead him back to the living room. Once he's situated on the couch, you switch on his cartoons for him, turning the volume down low.
He settles into the cushion next to you, his arm resting on your thigh as he focuses on the screen in front of him, while your eyes wander down to the small tv stand. They land on a framed photo of Haley and Jess together, smiling at the camera as the sun shines down on their faces, and you lift your hand to your mouth to stifle the tears that rush forward.
When your eyes pan over to the photo of you and her, with Aaron and Jess right behind you, the tears stream down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, trying to be quiet so as not to call away Jack's attention. But the cartoons are too quiet, and when a small sob escapes, Jack looks up, his brow furrowing with a look reminiscent of his father. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, baby," you nod, forcing a smile onto your face as you look down at him and press a kiss to his temple. "I just loved your mom very much."
***
The ground is still wet from the rain. It squelches beneath your feet as Jess clutches onto your arm, letting you lead her across the cemetery for the service.
You walk behind the pallbearers as they bring Haley to the top of the open grass and set her down carefully with a reverence that brings tears to your eyes again. You don't know if your eyes have been dry at any moment today, but the tears haven't spilled over yet. It's only a matter of time.
Aaron is ahead of everyone, looking down at the small sheet of paper in his hands, with Jack by his side. The young boy looks so small in his suit, and his eyes dart around the procession with a mix of confusion and sadness that pierces your chest.
When Aaron is ready to begin, Jessica lets go and walks up to stand on his other side, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Your arm feels cold where she used to be, but it doesn't last long as another hand takes its place. You turn your head to see Spencer, one hand on his cane, and the other on your arm, as he holds you tightly to his side, his eyes brimming with tears as well. You don't expect that there's a dry eye in the crowd.
Aaron starts his speech with a quote, but the steadiness in his voice starts to waver the moment he says her name. "Haley was my best friend since we were in high school."
You remember how fiercely he loved her, even back then. The tenacity with which he pursued her when he realized that she was someone he wanted to spend his life with.
His voice continues as his eyes dip down. "We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son Jack." Your tears surface again, but you suck them back with a deep breath. "Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today."
Aaron looks up then, and his eyes land on the casket in front of him. "A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature. And we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life."
His hand flexes at his side, and you wish desperately that you were up there with him, holding his hand like he held yours when your mother died.
"I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her."
His voice breaks and he reaches into his pocket for the scrap of paper he was looking at earlier. "I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment."
The quote comes back to you as he recites it, and your mind flashes back to those adolescent afternoons when you would watch him make a fool of himself trying to impress Haley at play practice. You can't help yourself as the tears finally fall, and you feel Spencer squeeze your hand tightly, acting as the lifeline you so earnestly need.
When he finishes his speech, everyone comes forward to place white roses on her casket before it is lowered into the ground. You wait as the crowd slowly dissipates, as everyone heads to the repast, and you hold Jess's hand while Aaron picks Jack up, holding him tightly.
"Blow Mommy a kiss," he whispers, before leaning over to let Jack place a rose on the casket.
His brow furrows as he straightens again, and you watch as the familiar stoicism returns to his posture. He isn't pushing all of his emotions down, exactly. He's just tucking them away, so as to be there for his son, who needs a solid figure in his life, now more than ever.
And that's what he'll be.
***
The repast is bustling with people from all eras of Haley's life, and you sit with the team at a large table, staring at your plate of food. When Dave pulls Aaron outside to talk, you watch them leave, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as he's forced to leave Jack with Jess again. She has been nothing but grateful to see her nephew more often than usual, but nonetheless, he wears his guilt like a jagged scar across his face.
Penelope clutches your hand under the table and you give her a weak nod, unable to do more with all of the energy drained from you.
"It was a beautiful service," Emily says, her eyes big and soft as they look at you.
You nod again, before turning back to your full plate. You can't bear the thought of stomaching any food right now.
Then just when you think the day can't get any worse, Derek and JJ's phones chirp with a message at the same time. No. No.
"They can't be calling us in," Emily sighs, her lips thinning, "not tonight."
JJ shakes her head. "I'm on it." She returns from her phone call a minute later with a forlorn look. "There's no other team available."
Derek gets up with a sigh. "I'll get Rossi."
When he returns with Dave, leaving Aaron alone on the deck, you squeeze Penelope's hand before walking outside. The air is cold, and you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you approach him.
"It's okay," he says before you can open your mouth. "I'll see you when you get back."
Mind reader, you think for a split second.
He has already given you the blessing you assumed you needed when you came out here, but it still doesn't feel right. "I don't want to go."
"It's your job," he shrugs. Like it's that simple. "It's okay."
"Are you sure?" You won't be able to do your job with him here, but even less so if you're feeling guilty the whole time. "I can take time off."
"No," he says quietly, shaking his head. He looks out into the night air, and you take his hand, squeezing it between both of yours. "It'll be good for me to have some time with Jack."
You can understand that. You pull him into a hug, before dipping your chin into a nod and leaving him out there again.
***
His return to work hasn't been easy. When Strauss gave him the option to retire with full pension and benefits, it should have been an easy decision, but something was tugging at his gut, telling him that would be the wrong choice.
Now he's sitting in his office, and all of his recent life choices are swirling around him like a hurricane ready to close in. He misses Jack like he's missing a limb, and he feels terrible for how often he's been relying on Jess to take care of him, even though she readily offered her help.
His emotions are a tumbling mess, and he doesn't notice that his fingers have been tapping the edge of his desk until you enter his office.
"Coffee?" He looks up with a nod, accepting the steaming cup you hand him, before you flop down on the couch across from him. "What are you thinking about?"
He swallows back a scalding gulp that likely scorched his throat on the way down. He wants to push his emotions down and say something quippy that won't distract you for more than a few moments, but tonight he needs reassurance more than he's willing to admit. "Did I come back too early?"
He expects an immediate and bombastic denial, but you just sit there, stirring your black coffee as you tuck your legs under you. "I can't decide that for you."
It's a diplomatic answer, but he needs guidance, and he doesn't have anyone else to go to. Not that he would go to anyone else even if he did. "Do you think I'm jeopardizing the team by being here?"
This time, the answer is immediate. "Of course not. You've been doing your job effectively, and no one can say otherwise."
He pauses for a moment, ruminating over your words. He knows he's not asking the right questions. He's just delaying until he has to accept what he's feeling.
With a shaky breath, he sets his coffee down and looks at you. "Am I jeopardizing my family by being here?"
Your brows pinch. "Jack will be okay. He's young, and he'll miss you, but you're his hero, Aaron. He loves you because you keep him safe."
"But I'm never home." His voice sounds ragged to his own ears, and he's certain you can hear the pain clawing out of his throat. "How am I doing my job as a father if I'm never there?"
"Aaron," you whisper, drawing his eyes back to yours. "You're keeping him safe by catching the bad guys. He knows that. And that's what he needs." You fix him with a look that makes his back straighten. "Okay?"
After a moment, he nods. "Okay."
***
"Hi, Hales."
You sink down onto the bench in front of her headstone, before pulling the baggie of peach rings you brought from your pocket. They were the only candy you liked from your high school's vending machine, and the two of you would share them between classes during your senior year.
"I should've come sooner, but work's been really busy."
You've only visited her once since the funeral six months ago, and you wish you could've come by more, but sometimes being here is just too much. It's too stark of a reminder that she's never coming back.
You pop another peach ring in your mouth, before breaking into a grin. "Jack's growing up so fast. He's so resilient, it's amazing." He has already adjusted to living in his father's apartment full time, and he seems to like hanging out with you or Jess whenever he's stuck at work late. "I wish you could be here to see it all."
You wish for a lot of things these days. The loss seems to keep piling up, and you don't know what to do or how to feel most of the time, but time keeps passing. And with it, so does the grief.
"Aaron's starting to get better too." You don't know what you believe, but a part of you suspects she knows all of this already. "The transition back was hard on all of us, but he doesn't look as defeated all the time anymore." Your lip twitches. "He even smiles at my jokes sometimes."
You swear you hear her laughter over the rustling of the wind, but it's probably just in your head. "Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. Let you know how much we miss you."
You stand up, grabbing the bouquet from next to you, and walk over to the headstone. Without thinking, you reach into your bag of candy and drop a peach ring into the dirt. It feels juvenile, even as you're doing it, but you can't help yourself. She would find it funny. You know she would.
You tuck the rest into your pocket and walk across the grass to another row of stones. It's not a quick stroll, but it gives you enough time to take a few deep breaths before you face him again.
Jeff Adler. The letters jump out at you like flashing lights, and you blink a few times as the magnitude of your loss washes over you. So many lives, so much love and warmth gone from your life.
Bending down, you place the bouquet of carnations in front of his headstone, before kissing your fingertips and pressing them to his name.
***
"You've got to be kidding."
He just shrugs, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. You make sure to keep your voice down as you toss your cards into the center pile and lean back against the bottom of his couch.
After putting Jack to bed, neither of you could think of anything quiet to do until Aaron pulled out a deck of cards from below the tv stand.
"I hate that you're so good at this," you grumble, watching as he deftly splits the deck and starts shuffling again. This being Go Fish.
"You're good, too," he concedes, flashing you an amused look that you don't share.
"Yeah, but you're better."
"As with most things."
You throw a card at him, but he dodges it easily. When he's finished shuffling, he deals out a card, before pausing. "We can play something else if you don't think you can beat me."
"Just deal the cards."
He lets out a low laugh and deals out another card, just as both of your cellphones chirp at the same time. You share a look before dropping the cards on the table. He stands first and gives you a hand up, which you accept.
"I'll call Jess," you whisper as he strides over to his bedroom to get his go-bag. You dial her quickly, and get the confirmation that she's coming over, before grabbing your own bag and heading out to his car.
***
"Sorry to ruin your night."
Everyone is in casual clothing when you walk into the briefing room with Aaron on your heels. JJ shoots you an apologetic look which quickly turns to surprise when Rossi walks in wearing a full tux.
"What, are you working on, wife number 4?" Derek laughs as he sets his bag down.
Dave just grumbles. "I see you people way too much."
"I hear that," you grin before taking your usual seat between Aaron and Spencer.
"Let's get started." JJ hands out the case files and clicks the screen on. "All right. Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There's 3 people dead in less than a week."
You scan the file as fast as you can, but Spencer beats you to it. "For a town with a population of 1,476, that's fairly significant."
JJ nods. "It's their first murder investigation on record."
"Who are the victims?" Dave asks, his eyes darting back and forth between the file and the screen.
JJ looks down at her notes. "Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days."
Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but Emily gives it a voice. "Any connections?"
"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected."
When JJ finishes up the briefing, Aaron stands up and grabs his bag. "We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us."
She shoots him a confused look. "Sir?"
"I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected."
"Yes, sir."
"This town's already on the brink," he continues with a sigh, "and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."
***
After barely getting any sleep on the plane ride over, and a long day in the cold, the team holes up in the lobby of a local inn, warming up around the fire.
"I'm gonna pull an all-nighter," Garcia announces when you stifle a yawn behind your fist. "I'll finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise."
"Good," Aaron nods, sitting up on the couch. "The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning."
At his suggestion, the innkeeper steps out from behind her desk. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."
"Uh, 4?" Spencer squeaks, his eyes darting around the room.
"Come on," the sheriff sighs as he stands up, "that's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department." He glances at Aaron and they share a nod. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night."
The sheriff walks out of the inn and you lean back on the couch, turning your head to the side to look at Aaron. The question in your eyes is implicit. What's the plan?
"It looks like we'll have to double up," Emily answers for you, her lips stretching into a grin.
Derek speaks up immediately. "I'm not sleeping with Reid."
Penelope reaches over and grabs Derek's arm. "Dibs."
Emily and JJ stand together and head upstairs, and you glance at Aaron with a nod. "Let's find one of the double rooms before Emily snags it."
"Guess it's you and me, kid," Dave says to Spencer as you grab a key from the front desk and pick up your bag. The inn is so small that all of your rooms end up being in the same hallway. You leave the door open behind you as you step inside and toss your bag onto the nearest bed.
Aaron enters after you and locks the door, before wordlessly moving your bag to the other bed, away from the door. It takes you less than a second to realize why. His protective nature was always strong, but over the past year, it has kicked into overdrive, especially around you and Jack.
"Do you want first shower?" you ask as you unzip your bag and pull out a tee shirt and some sleep shorts.
"You take it," he says, shaking his head. The chilliness of the outside air hasn't left your bones, so you don't wait for him to change his mind before grabbing your toiletries and rushing into the bathroom.
While you're in the shower, Aaron takes his time fluffing out the comforter and pillows on his bed. The room itself isn't very spacious, but he doesn't mind sharing with you. The close quarters remind him of his youth when he would sneak into your room late at night to get away from his family. Just the sight of the lights through your bedroom window used to bring him peace. When he glances over at your side of the room, a tranquility washes over him, and he realizes that the feeling hasn't really gone away.
"Your turn," you say a little later when you emerge from the bathroom. Your skin is still slightly damp, and your cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, and he has to tear his eyes away as he nods and steps around you.
The tiny mirror in the bathroom is still steamy when he shuts the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, and he lifts his hand to wipe it off, before pausing. His scars aren't something he likes to think about often, but after saving Jack, they took on a different image in his mind. He felt less like a victim.
He rubs his hand against the mirror to wipe off some of the condensation, and his reflection looks tense as it stares back at him. Back in the room, your presence felt warm and comfortable, but in here, with the steam fogging up the glass, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, something else roils in his gut.
It's a not-so-unfamiliar feeling that used to be commonplace when he was younger. It hadn't reared its head in years, but lately, it's been so much harder to push it down. When he sees how much his son loves you, how much he looks forward to finding you in his apartment when he gets back from a late meeting. It's been...hard.
He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water wash away the notions tickling the edge of his brain. When he walks back into the room, you are tucked into your bed, the covers up to your chin.
"You look like a burrito," he notes with a small laugh.
You shrug, though it's barely visible from under the comforter. "I find this is the best way to keep out the Arctic chill that seems to have invaded our lodgings."
"Fair enough."
He slides into his own bed and clicks the switch on the wall to turn the lights off. He tries to sleep for a few minutes, but even though he's exhausted, it won't come.
It's dark enough that he can't see his fingers in front of his face, but the uneven sounds of your breathing let him know that you're still awake.
"You should really sleep," he whispers into the darkness.
"You first," you say after a moment, before your voice lowers. "How are you doing? How are you holding up, I mean."
"How are you doing?" he asks, knowing he's being unfair.
You don't let it slide this time. "You're deflecting."
"I know."
There's a pause before he finally concedes. "I think I'm okay. The normalcy is coming back, and Jack is doing a lot better, which helps immensely."
"Me too," you say after a beat.
He wants to let the subject go and try to sleep, but the words are pulling at his throat. "I miss her all the time."
"Me too," you repeat. You huff out a husky laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "God, me too."
There's a tinge of bitterness in your voice that he recognizes in himself, but it's not something he knows if he can explain. He remembers how a small part of you blamed Jeff after his death, but that's nothing like what he's feeling. He blames himself for everything but the act itself, knowing that if he had just gotten there quicker, or taken the deal, or taken the transfer-
His breath catches and he hears you rustle under your covers. He imagines you turning to face him, and as his eyes slowly adjust he sees that he was right.
"Do you remember that time in high school," he says suddenly, not entirely sure where he's going with this, "when I got detention."
"I'm gonna need you to be more specific."
He laughs, in spite of himself, and turns over to face you as well. You're so far away, but he can just barely make out your face from across the room. "When you broke me out."
Your laughter is sudden and it echoes around the small room as the memory hits you. "I do remember that. I told them your grandfather was in the hospital so that they would let you out. God, Mrs. Parker was so upset when she went to get you."
"I think my favorite part of the story was that both of my grandfathers died before I could walk."
You chuckle, your voice softer now. "I know."
His chest warms at the memory of the two of you running out to your car and driving to get a scoop of chocolate at your favorite ice cream shop. Even afterwards, you had driven around town for hours, without a complaint, and he hadn't mentioned the time once. It was so soon after his dad's death, and he hated going home for so many reasons. Sean hated him, and his mother was sad all of the time, and it was like you just knew.
"You were good at reading me," he whispers, almost to himself.
"Were good?" you ask with mock offense.
He snorts. "Fine, are good at reading me."
"That's more like it."
***
You drop your empty glass back on the table, feeling the burn of the liquor as you swallow it down. It's your second drink of the night, and while you usually don't indulge in more than one, you welcome the chance to let loose.
Everyone else seems to be in the same mindset, because JJ, Emily, and Penelope are in various states of drunkenness around the booth, and the men are either nursing a drink or driving.
"Let's dance," JJ shrieks, lifting her head off of Will's shoulder and pushing herself up from the booth.
"Hell yeah," Emily grins, pulling you and Penelope up with her.
JJ tries to corral the guys to join, but they all stay firmly seated. Dave and Will look content as they sip their whiskey, and Spencer doesn't budge, citing his leg hurting (a lie). After a bit of targeted shoving, Derek chuckles and gets up for one dance, following Penelope and JJ onto the dance floor.
"Aaaaaron," you slur, tugging his arm. He doesn't move even an inch, but the corner of his lip twitches when you don't give up.
"You used to dance in college," you point out with a frown.
Emily hoots as she saunters over to the floor. "This I need to see."
Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, and you eventually oblige, joining the ladies (and Derek) for a few dances. The dark atmosphere of the club has you feeling looser than you have in a long time, and after the next song, you join Dave over at the bar to get another drink.
You down half of it before you leave the counter, and by this point, JJ has coaxed Will out of his seat, while Spencer rushes off to find the bathroom. The tiredness hits you as soon as you finish the drink, and when you spot Aaron by himself at the booth, you glide back to keep him company.
He doesn't notice you at first as you walk over to him, and you can't help but register that he looks good in his undone button-down. You take another step forward and a thin glint of metal around his neck becomes visible. A jolt of heat shoots down your body and you set your glass down on a nearby table without looking as you approach him.
When you reach the edge of the bench, someone walking by bumps into you and you stumble forward. Aaron grabs onto you as you fall forward, and you end up crushed in his arms, your face just inches from his. Your thoughts cut out and you don't make a sound, your breaths coming out in quick spurts.
Neither one of you moves as you look at each other, so so close, so much closer than you've ever been, than you've ever gotten to be. The faintest impression of a thought - the thought - crosses the deepest edges of your mind as you lean in infinitesimally. He doesn't notice, and you barely register it either, but you can't help but notice how easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him.
Kiss him?
Your brain short-circuits and you just barely manage to keep your eyes from widening. You have no idea where that came from, but then again, if you are honest with yourself, it has always been there, buried deep down beneath years of friendship and history.
The question invades your brain again, and this time, you're unable to stop it. What would it be like to kiss him?
You can't keep your breath from catching, and he pulls back immediately, tugging you to the side and depositing you on the booth beside him.
Your mouth falls open as you try to meet his eye. "Aaron-"
His head turns and he stands up, his eyes dark under the soft lighting. "I'm sorry."
Before you can get another word out, he's gone.
TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @sanayikes, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys (message me to be added!)
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
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Housewife
Part - 11
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang
Part 1
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Billy slammed his bedroom door after yet another fight with his dad. His father wasn't keen on his son skipping school and being a victim of a brutal attack wasn't a good enough excuse. He pulled out his phone dialing Stu's number. It rang and it rang which was unusual. No one answered. 'Maybe he wasn't home?' Billy wondered quickly realizing Stu had no place to go. He dialed again hearing the mind numbing ring. Finally Stu picked up.
"Hello?" A woman spoke. "Uhm is Stu there?" The voice on the end belonged to his mother. A person Billy only met twice. "No, Stu went... Oh shit honey where did Stu go? What's his little girlfriend's name?" Billy listened closely trying to hear all of the conversation. He could barley make out a man's voice in the back which he assumed was Stu's father. "No not that one she died remember." Billy raised his eyebrows in surprise. Even he wasn't that insensitive and he murdered her. "Y/n, Stu is staying at Y/n's." Staying?
Billy laughed nervously. "No I don't think I heard you right ma'am. Did you say "staying?"" She rubbed her forehead wanting to hang up on the strange child. "Yes he moved out while we do renovations. Goodbye now." The line died leaving Billy to piece all this together. It was almost laughable. He managed to lose the only two people he cared about on this horrible planet and both of them were probably fucking without saying so much as one word to him. Billy grabbed his things deciding to pay you and Stu a visit.
The drive back to your place was nice. He had a plan and things always ran smoother with a plan. He parked a block down the street deciding to walk the rest of the way. Your bedroom light was on making it easy for people like Billy to see into your life. He was ready for the worst. Maybe he'd break in like a scorned lover and kill the both of you. It'd be poetic but it would easily trace back to him. With your fragile little heart it'd probably stop knowing you'd been caught.
He lifted the binoculars he brought up adjusting the lenses so he could see. You walked into the room wearing some nightgown that resembled something he's sure his grandmother wore. You were holding a bowl handing it to Stu who sat on the floor. Once you sat down you were completely out of view. Billy cursed under his breath as he thought up a new plan.
"You can't hog the m&ms asshole." You threw a blue one which he caught like a seal. Stu raised his eyebrows surprised he actually caught it. "I'm impressed." You clapped and he did a half bow sitting on the floor. "This is one of my favorite's." You said pointing towards the movie that just started. Stu rolled his eyes. "Everything is your favorite." He passed you the bowl of candy. "What is this again?" Stu asked only paying attention to long haired actor.
"Benny and Joon. I saw it when it came out with my ex." Stu was interested in that story but he let it go knowing how much you wanted to watch your movie. "Billy should grow his hair out like that." Stu said before he popped a handful of candy in his mouth showing you the mashed up contents. "Why are you so nasty?" He laughed looking back towards the TV. "No, long haired boys have too much power over me. He keeps playing though I'm going to buzz off what hair he does have."
You were oblivious to the man in your home and Billy was scared for you. No wonder you needed someone to protect you. The key was still in the same place it was Saturday after they left your house. He wished he could relive that day. Billy heard his name so he stopped moving trying to hear what Stu was saying. He thought you were furious at him but you talked about him like he was still your friend.
Stu laughed. "In that case I'll grow mine out." He was only half joking. "I think you could pull it off. Grow it too long though you run the risk of looking like Shaggy form Scooby Doo." You teased tossing a m&m up letting your friend catch it. "I'll keep it like it is then. I have thought about dyeing it though." You squinted picturing him with different colored hair. "What color?" Stu scratched his head in thought. "White or maybe frosted tips." You cringed at the thought of frosted tips. "Fuck I'll make sure never to play poker with you. Damn." He laughed at the obvious face you made.
Billy crept up the stairs just enough to be able to see in your room. "Oh shhh. I think blonde hair would look good on you but frosted tips is just too gay even for you." He gasped as he brought his hand up to his forehead like he was about to faint. "Yeah you're probably right." He dropped the act eating more candy. "Besides once we graduate we'll pack our shit and leave. You could dye your hair whatever color you want. What's your opinion on cottages?"
You sat on the bed with a big bowl of candy while Stu sat in the floor at the end of the bed. Billy was relieved and a little disappointed there was no sinful act happening. Where did this leave him though? Were you both just waiting for him to make a move? You didn't tell him how to fix things and that bothered the hell out of him.
"You're worried about frosted tips being gay but you want me to live in a cottage with you? I might as well wrestle naked with Billy outside just to show off to the neighbors." You pursed your lips. "Include baby oil and I'll be there." Stu laughed scrunching his face. "You are an absolute freak. Me too." You both laughed eventually focusing back on the movie.
It was nice to know Stu was still his usual self but it was odd seeing you adapt to who you were around. The baby oil comment which Billy did not want to unpack is something you'd never say to his face. You were carefree around Stu and it felt like for the first time since he met you he was seeing who you actually were.
"Someone's at the door." Stu said pausing the VCR. You groaned knowing Billy was showing back up to either kill you or try some stupid attempt of convincing you that you need him. "I'll get it. Stay up here I don't want a fight." Stu nodded laying back on your floor. You walked to the front door trying to prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen. "What do you want Billy?" Billy had a small window of time to back out.
"May I come in?" He asked and you knew he was about to put on an Oscar worthy performance. "You may." You said bemused as you moved out of the way letting him in. "Can you tell Stu to come down here I need to talk to him too." Your blood ran cold. Billy knew and you were both likely dead. "How'd you know?" The door locked in placed once you shut it. "I called his house and his mom picked up." You sighed nodding your head. "Hey Stu, can you come down here?" You called out worried for the both of you.
Stu was terrified. He felt like a child in trouble. The walk of shame down the steps was especially embarrassing seeing Billy at the end of them. "Hey Stu." He said sending the boy a small smile. Your new roommate shot you a look saying something along the lines of "what the fuck?" Billy knew he had to choose his words very carefully. "Um can you both just sit down for a second?" Oh yeah the cops were sure to find you and Stu tomorrow.
Both you and Stu sat on the couch looking at your friend stand in front of you. "I'll be the first to say I'm not good at this." He looked to the floor only looking up once Stu spoke. "No kidding." He joked but you looked at him with eyes that could only tell him to shut up. Billy chuckled before talking again. "I'm sorry." You analyzed those two words over and over in your head. They sounded genuine but they couldn't be coming from Billy, could they? "I am sorry for what I did to both of you. Stu I'm most ashamed about what I've done to you."
Billy was walking on eggshells here. His eyes darted over at you reading you expression. You weren't mad. Stu has suffered Billy's wrath way longer than you've known him. "I really do care about you, I'm just scared of what people think about me. I hate the way people stare at us when we're out in public it makes me want to peel my skin off. I shouldn't take that out on you or make you feel as awful as I do. So I really am sorry." Billy's words worked on Stu you saw it in real time. You still couldn't figure out what was genuine and what was bullshit.
"Y/n." It was a good start but how was he going to finish it? The moment he tried to put the blame on someone other than himself you swore you'd beat his ass. You and Stu would have a body to dispose of. "I was and still am a horrible person. I never once thought about how you felt or how what I did affected you because I never cared." It hurt but it was honest. The way kids stared and whispered about him today, he couldn't begin to imagine what you went through on a daily basis.
"I'm going to change." You laughed dryly turning your head away from him. Billy dropped to his knees in front of you holding your hands in his. You were losing. He knew what he was doing and it was working. "I'm going to get better because I can't imagine a world without you and Stu in it. I know you can make it on your own but I can't. I need you a million times more than you need me and I know that. Not just to cook or clean but I need you to squeeze my arm when you watch a scary movie. I need you to call me out on my shit when I'm obviously spinning a story my way."
"I need you Y/n." Stu looked at Billy never seeing him open up like this. "You don't even know me." You quipped trying to be the voice of reason. Billy's voice cracked as he spoke. "Then teach me. I'll take notes if you want me to. This whole thing was to start over. We could bump into each other somewhere and we will meet for the first time all over again. I just need you Y/n, whatever version you give me I'll be happy to have." You lost. "Will you two excuse me for a moment?" You politely stood up going up stairs to your bathroom. Shutting the door you then turned on the faucet to full blast. The sink was going and eventually so was the tub. "Is she running water?" Billy asked worried he had done something wrong. You screamed so loud Stu honest to God thought the neighbors would call the cops. "Is she okay?" Billy asked standing up to go check on you. Stu stuck his arm out stopping him. "She does this."
You calmly returned, both the boys worried you might pass out from the length of the screams. "What do you want?" You asked Billy as you leaned on the door frame. "What do you mean?" This time he just wanted your forgiveness. He wanted to try again. "I accepted your apology. What do you want from us? Do you want us to go upstairs so we can some a threesome or are you actually wanting to figure this out?" It was sarcastic but you saw the brief second of consideration pass your friends faces. "I want us to be friends again at least. Did you know some bitches sat at our water fountain today?" He looked at Stu starting a whole new conversation. "Are they blind we sit there everyday?"
You snapped grabbing their attention. "I'm not fucking around. If we do this we do it right. I'm not getting hurt again and if I do I'm cutting someone's balls off." Stu put his finger to the tip of his nose quickly. "Not it!" He shouted making Billy smack his arm. "Ow man I was joking." He wasn't joking. "Am I understood?" The boys looked at each other not sure if they should feel this way about you right now. "Understood." Billy said as Stu echoed him. "Great! Now who wants dinner?"
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Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp
Part 12
A/N: I am absolutely in shock by how much love this series is getting. I just wanted to let everyone know that the taglist is now closed. Thank you all so much for being so kind and supportive. 💕
(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
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restless-mama · 5 months
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Sol Exposed
Back at it again! Encouraged by my beloved friends from the 14DWY Discord server (I love yall!), I decided to write Sol (from The Kid at the Back, visual novel) fic. Sol belongs to @fantasia-kitt and Christine belongs to me. Female pronouns and etc are used. THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS TO TKAB!
Summary wise, sometimes you just can't do what you want and think you can get away with it! Christine finds out what her crush has done to her and she wants to get even. She exposes him in at least three ways. His naughty deeds, his body, and his feelings.
Warnings: Stalking, Drugs, Handcuffs, subby Sol
Banner belongs to @arklayraven
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It was late but as your typical college student, Christine was tapping and clicking on her laptop as she sits at her desk browsing the internet. A glass of orange juice sitting by her laptop. Her phone lights up with a notification. Her lamp on her nightstand was still on emitting light throughout the room. It was Sol, her current crush. He wishes her goodnight and that he’ll see her tomorrow. A high pitch giggle escapes her lips while she kicks her feet a little. If only she could confess her feelings to him. Yes, she had a crush on Crowe in the beginning. She felt it would be better off if Crowe and her remained friends.  Grabbing her phone, she sends a reply biding him goodnight and reminding him to not stay up so late. She was aware of him staying up in wee hours of the night, doing God knows what. 
She looks through some false nails to buy since Halloween was around the corner which is her favorite holiday. Christine orders a set of false nails from an Etsy seller of the name AnastasiasNails. The set of nails were in a coffin cut set with black lace and red small false rubies as designs. 
Another thing she had to order was a costume for the Halloween party her school hosted. She decided to purchase a black gothic lolita dress. It was a halter dress with a bowknot on the halter neck which exposed the rib-shaped cutout on the back. The skirt part of the dress was laced tiered ruffle. After placing her orders, she looked out of her window. The lock was still broken, and it reminded her to look at the hidden cameras she had set up in her apartment. Some of her laundry has gone missing, like her favorite pair of panties. Also, items disappearing and reappearing around her house. Then there were a few mornings with some dried substance on her stomach. A few times she notices bruises on her neck and/or collar bone. However, she doesn’t remember a thing.  
Christine pulls up the footage as her fingers wrapped around the cold glass of orange juice. She sip from the glass that consists of the fruity, tangy drink. Her finger clicking on the mouse to fast forward on the video. Suddenly she stops and watches to see someone climbing through her window with the broken lock. Her brown eyes widen and swallows hard. A surge of anxiety and fear coursed through her body as she continues to watch the hooded figure walked out of her room. Her eyes darts over to the camera recording that was in her kitchen. 
Her brown eyes studied the figure and noticed how tall he was. He was most definitely taller than her which she was only 5’5”. She watches in horror as the figure opened her fridge door to take out her orange juice and twist open the top. Then they took out a pill that looked very familiar, opened the capsule and dropped the powdery medication into her juice. Christine drops the glass that she was drinking out of, onto the ground. She watches in silent horror as she realizes her drink has been spiked. No wonder why she has been sleeping so well lately. 
“Son of a bitch!” Christine curses as she stands up. Her body was shaking a little from what she has watched. She was about to move to grab a nearby towel to dry the orange juice off the carpet, until the figure’s face caught her attention. The brunette stands there in shock and turns her head back to her laptop screen. Their eyes looks very familiar... They were orangey-red. 
“No...” Christine whispers. She knew who those eyes belonged to. ‘He... he wouldn’t... would he?’ The brunette thought her herself.  
The spilled juice was longed forgotten. The young college student sits back down and continues to go through the footage. He does leave her apartment but comes back late at night when she was in bed, asleep. Once again, he sneaks in through her window. She watches him pick up her arm and drop it, confirming that she was in a deep, drugged sleep. He pushed his hood down to reveal his black hair with green highlights and his mask was pushed down under his chin. It was indeed Sol. In the footage, he kisses her face close to her lips. He strokes her hair, tucking a strand of her messy dark brown and red hair behind her ear. She watches him suckling her neck, creating the mysterious bruises, which she realizes were hickies. Then the unthinkable happens. How could he...? He was so kind to her. So protective and caring. 
Christine watches in shock and....arousal? She couldn’t believe she was getting turned on by the sight of Sol doing this to her while she slept. This type of behavior wasn’t acceptable for normal standards, yet she could not deny the surge of pleasure course through her veins as she watched him. The tip of her tongue darts out and laps her top lip, imagine how he would taste. Perhaps she was just as crazy as him... Maybe... She should get even. 
~*~ 
With little effort, it didn’t take much lure Sol back to her apartment. They both had an assignment to finish anyways. Christine, being such a lady, offered Sol something to drink. Once they finished their refreshments, they retreated to her bedroom.  Christine sat down in her chair as the taller man sat down on her bed as he drew her. She could feel his red-orange eyes trace every bit of her body. Her heart pounded in her chest as she keeps it together as she suppresses the need to make him beg. It’s only a matter of time now. 
Sol wipes the sweat off his brow as he notices he has gotten hotter than usual. A surge of lust rans through his veins. He forwards his brows as his eyes bore into his drawing of his beloved. He usually could control his urges when he’s near her. Something was wrong. His heart begins to beat faster, and his pants felt a little too tight against his body. His body is getting hotter by the minute. 
“Sol...?” Christine’s voice could be heard, and the artist looks towards the direction of the voice. He jumps and gasps as he realizes she was inches away from him. His face becomes more flustered. Another surge of pleasure rushed through his body, especially his member. How did she get so close? When did she get so close? The brunette couldn't help but giggle, he noticed the tone of it was more... menacing.  
The brunette moves in closer to him. Her lips inches from his lips. “Are you okay...? My little stalker?” Christine confronts him. His eyes widen in shock.  
“Fuck...!” He whispers. Before he can explain himself, she presses her lips against his in a passionate kiss. His pencil and sketch book drops to the carpet floor as she pushes him down onto her bed. Her hips rolls against his member through the fabric of their pants. This earns a muffled groan from the taller man. Seizing the opportunity, she got a hold of his arms and handcuffs him to the bed frame. 
Sol looks up in shock at his the woman above him. “Christine... let me-” A delicate finger pressed on his lips shushing him from explaining himself. Christine staddles his hips rubbing her groin against him earning a moan from the man below her. His skin was so sensitive and hot. Her scent on her bed was driving him insane more than usual. He wondered what was going on. Then it dawned on him that he didn’t get like this after he drank something she gave him. No... his own beloved couldn’t do this right? She wasn’t capable? Or was he wrong? 
The woman on top of him breaks the kiss. "I added a little something to your drink... Just like you did mine but mine is an aphrodisiac.” Christine giggles. She looks down at him with her caramel eyes full of mischief. “I put hidden camera around my apartment Sol... I know everything... And now, it’s my turn to have my fun with you~” Her soft hands moves under his shirt, pushing it up as she touches his tone torso. As if her touch left a trail of fire in her wake.  Her fingers reach to his pierced nipples and strokes them with her fingers. 
“Ahhh! Christine!” Sol pants out with his face flushed with red, choking down his moans, trying to remain quiet. He was panting and sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes half-lidded and full of desire.  
“Someone’s very sensitive, aren’t they?” Christine said seductively and playfully, “Tell me Sol...” She darts her tongue out and swirls her tongue around his pierced nipple causing him to squirm and whimper uncontrollably, “Is this what you wanted me to do to you? To take this big cock of yours?” Her hand undoes his pants and pulls out his thick, long member and strokes it very slowly. She had to admit... She was impressed by the length and size of his erection. 
The green haired artist looks up at his beloved with a mixture of shock and desire. He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen and forward. “Yes.... Yes! This is what I wanted...” Sol whines out as his throbbing cock leaks precum onto her hand. His own obsession with her was bad enough but with the aphrodisiac running through his veins took it to the next level. Without any hesitation, she pulls off his pants and boxers off.  
“You’re so hard for me...” Christine teases. She sits on her heels and lowers her head over his veiny member, which still leaking with precum. Her lips parted around his wide cock and sucks off his salty seed. She sticks her tongue out and traces the thick veins on his member. Sol’s eyes roll back into his head as he feels Christine’s wet tongue swirling around the over sensitive tip of his cock. He could feel shivers down his spine while his body becomes overloaded with pure pleasure. 
All he could think of was her. Her scent. Her touch. Those lustful yet mischievous, caramel eyes. His fantasies were becoming a reality, but this exceeded his expectations. “Oh fuck, Chris...” Sol gasps between labored breaths, his eyes hazy and burning with desire. “You make me feel so goddamn good...” 
His needy words and pleas were music to her ears. The brunette could feel the surge of arousal shoot down her clit. Christine takes his cock into her mouth sucking him in and taking him deeper into her mouth. Her brown eyes shot up at him to meet his red-orange eyes, maintaining eye contact as she sucks his dick. Sol watches Christine takes his throbbing member deeper into her mouth, swallowing his erection with ease. He gasps loudly at the sight, like he was in a trace. He finds himself utterly captivated by her beauty and the way she seems to relish having power over him. His hips buck involuntarily, driven wild by her experienced oral skill. She takes him deeper in her mouth and into her throat, deep throating him. She swallows, causing her throat to squeeze around him, earning a straggled moan from Sol. 
Suddenly, Christine pulls away. A mix of frustration and confusion could be seen in his eyes as he watches her pull away. “W-why did you stop?” He whines between heavy pants. 
The corner of her lips tugs upward into a smirk as Christine gives Sol a seductive look. Her hand reaches down to the hem of her tight red shirt and slowly pulls it off revealing her breasts in a black lacy bra. She could hear him tug hard against the cuffs. Metal clashing metal. He lets out a long ragged, breath and looks at her hungrily, unable to contain the raw lust burning through his body. His mouthwatering. His eyes never leaving her body as she slowly undresses in front of him. She removes her bra, releasing her breasts from the confines which earns a breathy gasp from him. Her hand finds her hair tie on the end of her brain and removes it, letting her brown and red hair free from the messy braid. 
“Oh God... Pumpkin..” Sol pants as watches her remove her black ripped jeans and panties. Just looking at her nude body, his face was burning from lust and desire. “You’re so beautiful... Please Christine. Take the cuffs off. Let me touch you. I need to touch you.” The green haired handsome man begged. His voice was hoarse. His eyes never left her nude body. They always reminded her of lava and she could feel the heat of his gaze burn onto her skin. 
“No...” Christine denies him and straddles him, rubbing her wet cunt on the underside of his shalf. Sol trembles beneath her and whimpers out her name. She had to admit, her name coming out of his mouth sounded like music to her ears. “You been a very, very bad boy, Sol... I think I’m going to make you beg for forgiveness.” She rolls her hips slow against his throbbing member, earning a needy moan from him. “Or I won’t let you cum.” 
“Fuucckkkk.....!” Sol cried out low as he pulled hard against the cuffs in desperation again. Metal raddles against one another. His body quivers in need. His aching cock was getting harder and hard to the point where it began to hurt as his body reaches to its limits. It needed a release. He HAVE to cum. He couldn’t even think to control himself any longer. His mind clouded by what his body needed. Their eyes met once again, and she could see his pupils blown wide with desire.  
“I’m sorry Christine! Please...” Her stalker chokes out, “I’ll do anything! Anything! Just please, please! Make me come... Let me come!” 
Christine giggles lowly. “So needy and desperate...” She teases him, “You look so cute when you’re at my mercy...” 
Before he could respond, the brunette slips him inside of her warm cunt, earning a throaty groan from the man beneath her. A gasp escapes her lips as his wide cock stretches her pussy walls. Perhaps she may have underestimated his size. Christine forwards her brows and bites her lower lip as she takes all him inside her. Sol watched her intensely and couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“Guess I’m a lot more to handle than you thought, huh?” Sol pants out still flustered and desperate yet still able to give her a smug grin. Christine narrows her caramel eyes at him. She pulls herself up until his tip was barely in, she slams down hard in a fast motion taking all of him again.  
“Fuck!” Sol lets out a surprised yelp as his soulmate slams down onto him with force. The cuffs rattle once again as he yanks against them again. His head is thrown back onto her pillows, inhaling her sweet floral scent. God... She smelled divine to him. Her walls tighten hard around him, giving him a hard squeeze before as she starts to move up and down his veiny cock. Suddenly she slams down onto him again and they both let out a moan. Her fingers find his pierced nipples and begin to stroke them as she rides him. She kept her pace unexpected and erratic, driving him into her cunt. 
“Ohhhh fuck...! Pumpkin... You feel so fucking good..” Sol rasped out with his eyes hazy, his face still red, and his mouth slightly agape, drool starting to hang out from the corner of his lips. Christine couldn’t help but moan as his thick girth rubs her sensitive walls in the right places. He was the thickest she had ever taken. 
“Ahhh...” She pants, “You know... You could have asked. I might have said yes... Instead of drugging me...” She whispers as she slams her cunt up and down his cock. She begins to increase her pace, bouncing wildly on him. It was pushing him towards the edge.  
“I know... Ahhh...” Sol moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m sorry, Christine...” He sounds sincere even though he sounds so fucked out of his mind. He could feel her warm juices which are mixed with his pre-cum flow down his cock and balls. His balls tighten as he draws near his climax. It didn’t help that she was near her own peak and her walls became tighter and tighter than before. 
“Ahhhh... Fuuuccckkkk...” He groans lowly. His eyes find her face and a surge of pleasure shoots down his hard cock. Before him was his beloved with her face contorted in bliss with her puffy lips parted. Her eyes half lid as she rides him in abandonment. That sight alone threw him over the edge. “Christine...! I’m going to cum!” Sol bucks his hips up wildly to meet her pace, trying to catch his high. They began to move in sync causing both parties to cry out in pleasure. His balls tighten. He could feel the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. His back arches as he releases a torrent of his pent-up seed inside her tight walls. Christine was not far behind him. She moans out sweetly as she cums hard against him member. Her walls gripping him like a vise, milking every drop of his seed. His name leaves her lips as a whisper.  
“I love you, Christine! I love you so much...” Sol whimpers out his confession as he rides out his orgasm. He could feel the heat leaving him a little. It seems that the aphroditic was wearing out. Just a little.  
“Y-you love me?” The brunette breaths out, trying to catch her breath. Her warm caramel eyes looks down to catch his hazy gaze. It was time for Christine to become flushed. Her heart pounding against her chest. “Why didn’t you just say so...?” 
Sol sighs and looks at the woman on top of him, “Shit I don’t know... You looked like you have a crush on Crowe.” He said Crowe’s name with such venom. Was he jealous all along? 
“I had a crush on Crowe.” Christine corrected him and crossed her arms, squeezing her tits together. “Past tense, Sol... Besides, I have a crush on you.” 
“Wait... What?” Sol couldn’t believe his ears. She then slowly pulls herself off him which makes him whimper out in disappointment.  
“You heard me... Now let me uncuff you.” Christine said as she moved to take the key from under her other pillow and uncuffs him. She assumed that he was done and the aphrodisiac had wore off. However, once the cuffs were off, Sol’s large hands were on her waist, and he gently pushes her down onto her bed. A gasp escapes the woman’s lips as the green haired man pins her down by her wrist. Her brown and red hair scattered on her bed. A blush forms on her shocked face. Sol growls lowly at the sight of her. He could feel his blood rushes down to loins, making his member erect once again. 
Her caramel brown eyes meets his red-orange ones which are filled with so much burning desire. She could just simply melt in his gaze. She can’t deny her own desire, especially being held down by him. Sol leans in, their lips just inches from one another. She could feel his hot breath against her cheek. His short green hair tickling her skin. "What happened? You were so bold earlier...” He teases and whispers lowly, “Or you like being held down do you?” 
Before Christine could answer, Sol crushes his lips against her roughly. His cold lip piercings rubbing against her soft lips. She parts her lips, allowing his tongue in as they both kissed passionately. Then she felt the cold metal of her own hand cuffs being applied on her wrist. All she could do was just submit to his power. They continue their heated, passionate kiss until they both break away to breathe. They both pants and gazed into each other's eyes. Sol then pulls away to sit on his heel and removes his two shirts, along with the long black key necklace he had on. After tossing them aside, he lowers his head down to one of her nipples and suckles it into his mouth.  
A sharp gasp was heard followed by a moan as he swirls his tongue around the bulb. Her body arches back. She felt his hand slip down between her legs, his index finger rubbing against her entrance, teasing her and smearing his cum around. Christine moans and squirms beneath him. Sol releases her nipple with a loud “pop” then parts her thighs with his large hands. He growls in delight as he admires his own cum leaking out of her cunt. His member growing harder at such a delectable sight. 
“Fuck... You look so cute when you’re filled up with my cum...” He groans lowly as he rather his own seed with his own fingers and pushes them into her pussy making Christine cry out in pleasure. 
“Sol!” Christine cries out. She could feel her falls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. His fingers begin to stroke her sensitive walls making her throw her head back in pleasure. Her hips roll to meet his thrusts until he pulls his digits out of her and brings them to her puffy lips. She obediently parts her lips, letting him push his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the digits to lick and then suck off the cum off his fingers. Once they were licked clean, he pulls them out of her mouth as a string of saliva was still attached from her tongue and his wet fingers.  
The green haired men then push his fingers back into her wet cunt and curls his fingers repeatedly, searching her sensitive spot. A sharp inhaled gasp was heard from the brunette. She was never able to find her own g-spot with her own fingers, but it seems Sol’s fingers were far better. They were longer and able to reach the right spot in her cunt. Her body trembled in delight. Her back arched and she began to moan uncontrollably.  
“Oh my GOD!” Christine cries out in pleasure as her tight walls tighten around. Suddenly, she cums and squirts all over his hand and forearm. Sol doesn’t let up, he continues to drive his digits into her franticly, making her soak her bed sheets beneath her. His name continues to leave her mouth in such debauch manner as she cums and squirts repeatedly. 
“Ahhhh! It feels too good!” The woman whimpered and moaned wildly, uncontrollably. Her walls spasm and contract against his fingers. 
“I just got started and you’re already falling apart.” Sol said lowly, a playful smirk tugged on his pierced lips as he teased her. He then lowers his mouth and stroke his tongue against her clit making Christine roll her hips. A straggled moan escapes her lips. The sounds she made were like music to Sol’s ears. He pulls out his own fingers and replaces them with his tongue, sucking and lapping up her liquid gold. She tasted so divine. She sounded like an angel to him. Just like how he imagine she would.  
Christine feels his then laps up to her clit once more and suck gently onto the swollen clit. She could feel electricity courses through her body from his administrations. Shivers shooting down her spine. She gazes at him, watching him with her half-lidded lazy eyes. He could hear her pants for air. His pierced lips brush away from her clit and onto her thigh. She could feel the coolness of the small metal. Teeth gazing over the flesh, he bites down softly and sucks forming a soon to be small bruise on her thigh.  
“This is how I will make you feel every night.” Sol pulls back and gazes at his mark in admiration. “That’s what you will get for being mine.” He pushes her legs up until her knees meet her chest and parts her legs with his large hands. Christine moans as she felt him rub himself over her clits and wet folds, teasing her. She makes a rasped out a desperate moan, “Please... Don’t tease me...” begged Christine. Her eyes pleading him. Her face flushed red, and her eyes barely opened. 
Sol chuckles softly and slowly pushes himself in, inch by inch. He could feel her slick and wet pussy envelop him, wrapping around his thick member. Christine moans softly as she involuntarily contracts her walls around him, pulling him in deeper.  
“S-shit... you’re so tight...” Sol growls lowly as his cock is swallowed by her warmth.  Unable to contain his desire, he quickly pulls back until his tip only remained and drives his thick member deep inside of her wet folds with one forceful thrust. The brunette cries out in bliss as he filled her completely.  His hips begin to move rhythmically, thrusting himself into her tight walls again and again, fucking her hard and making her scream in pleasure. “And you’re all mine. Mine to take. Mine to fuck.” 
“Yes.. Yes! I’m yours... Only yours! Please don’t stop! Harder. Sol.... Harder!” Christine moans out loudly as he obeys her command and buries himself into her in an unrelenting tempo. His name leaves her lips repeatedly like a prayer, making his heart swell with emotion. She gazes up at his face and her heart flusters at such a delectable sight. His face was contorted in pleasure. Sweat drips down from his brow. Some of the ends of his green hair wet from sweat, sticking against his cheek. A blush was formed on his face. His mouth a gape as he pants. His eyes sadly shut. She wanted to see those beautiful, lust filled red-orange eyes of his. 
Her hand shot up and placed on his cheek, stroking it. He snaps his eyes open at the sudden touch, recalling that he did cuff her. Apparently, she quietly uncuffed herself earlier. “Keep your eyes open Sol... Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. I want you to remember how I look while you fuck me...” She purrs. 
Her words cause a surge a desire to run through his veins as it adds more fuel to need to please her. Sol places on of his large hands on her shoulder and one on waist. HE holds her in place as he slams into her wet folds in pure reckless abandonment, giving into his primal instincts. Christine's eyes rolls to the back of her head and cries out his name. Her hand slips off his cheek and onto his shoulder, digging her nails in. The sounds of skin colliding, along with lust filled noises from the couple could be heard throughout the room.  
“I’m cumming!” Christine moans out, her walls tighten hard around him earning a low growl from Sol. Her cunt gripped him like a vise and then she squirts all over his member and his groin.   
“Fuck!” Sol chokes out as his pace becomes brutally fast as he chases after his own orgasm. The scent from her sticky fluids overwhelmed his senses. Her tight walls tighten around his thick cock, driving him to the edge. He thrusts into her once more until he unleashes a torrent of his seed into the warm, wet pussy and sending himself in a lust filled Eupora.  “I love you Christine! You’re mine... All mine!” 
They both gasp and pants to catch their own breath, trying to normal their breathing. Sol then buries his face into her neck, nuzzling her. “Mine...” He breaths. 
“Yours... just like you’re mine...” Christine whispers in his ear as she runs her fingers in his green hair.  
~Later~ 
Christine runs her fingers through her wet hair, applying her hair product into her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Her black towel wrapped securely around her torso. Sol was still taking a shower. At first he didn’t want to take a shower, stating that he wanted her dried fluids to remain on him which earned a look from Christine. He eventually relented and agreed to a shower. Christine went first and once she was done, Sol have already put on new bed sheets after removing the ones that were stained with their fluids. She felt so embarrassed but Sol reassured her that he just simply wanted to take care of her. 
The sound of water being cut off could be heard, indicating that Sol was done taking a shower. He steps out and dries himself off with one of Christine’s extra towels. He steps in in view of the mirror and dries his green hair. Christine’s brown caramel eyes traced his naked form in the reflecting surface. His body was slim but toned. His tight muscle flexing in his arms. She also notices a good number of old bruises that have faded to yellow.  
“Enjoying the view, pumpkin?” Sol said playful, shooting a smirk at the mirror as he dries the side of his head. Christine blushes and drops her gaze. She grabs her perfume to spray on her wrist, as he chuckles behind her. As she rubs fragrance on her wrist and neck, Sol wraps his arms around her from behind and bends down slightly to rest his on her shoulder to nuzzle her neck. She could feel his bare chest on her back, his hot breath on her neck. 
“Hmm...” He inhales her scent, rubbing her nose against her tender flesh. “No wonder why you always smelled so good...” 
Christine could feel him getting semi-hard and she elbows him gently. “Behave yourself. Sol.”  
A low chuckle emits from his throat, and he kisses her temple. “For now... But I’m pretty sure you’re hungry. What does my soulmate wanna eat?” 
“Soulmate, huh?” Christine giggling and turns around to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close, “Surprise me. I always enjoy your cooking. Just don’t spike my orange juice again...” 
Sol laughs and picks her up to kiss her lips. He knows that she’s not going to let him hear the end of it. 
233 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 6 months
Note
MILF!Reader slowly realizing that her son's BFF/GF, MJ, has been flirting with her for a while now.
A DIRTY FLIRT
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PAIRINGS: MJ x reader
WORD COUNT: 1815
WARNINGS: flirting, age gaps, small angst, sexual themes but no sex, MJ being a huge flirt and tease and hot as SHITTT, milf!R, R is married but it’s not cheating…yall will get it, MJ is 19!!, think that’s it :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
You turned as you heard the door creak open and your son yelling out to you, and only seconds later he was in the kitchen with two friends you assumed were from school.
“Hey, mom! I hope it’s okay I brought some friends over, this is Ned as you already know and this is MJ, she’s new to the school.” Peter spoke, and you waved to the other boy when his name was addressed as you had already met him years earlier. He was a regular at your house as Peter was at his, but the girl was fresh. She had long curls that were slightly messy, and her outfit was more laid back like the other two.
“Hello, Ned, it’s great to see you again. And hello, MJ, it’s lovely to meet you, dear.” You felt her eyes follow up and down your body twice before a small grin fell on her face and she nodded to your greeting.
“We have a science project so we were going to go and, well, do that. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” The three began walking towards the room until you called for your son. He stopped in his tracks and told Ned to bring MJ to his room to get started before turning to your direction again.
“Just…have fun and,” You looked to where the two were, hoping they were out of ear shot before finishing your sentence. “Keep the door cracked.”
“Mom!”
“What! I’m just saying, you’re in college now and I know kids your age like to, you know, experiment-”
“Please stop talking about sex, I promise MJ is just a friend, I don’t see her in any weird way.”
“Just keep it open a little, it’s not like I’m going to be standing there stalking you three.” He agreed before rushing off. That was the first time you had met the girl, but it would definitely not be the last. She was there for the next three days until they finished the assignment, and each day you felt her watching you like a hawk. Whenever you called them for dinner or she had to go to the bathroom, her eyes would be stuck to you as if she was glue.
You hoped it was only curious glances seeing as she refused to speak to you, but that came to be proven wrong two weeks later when she arrived again. The two boys were out and you received a knock at the door. Confused, you checked the windows before opening it and spotting the college student standing there with a bag over her shoulder. Her eyes fell to your body and that’s when you remembered the messy apron covering you that you forgot to take off.
“Oh, hey, MJ! Uh, Peter isn’t home right now, if you want I could leave a message or…” You led off, not sure what to offer as she continued to stare at you.
“I’m not here for him, I think I left my jacket here the other day and I wanted to grab it.”
“Oh, of course, yeah. Uh, come in.” You awkwardly suggested, opening the door further as she stepped in, and this marked the first time you’d ever be alone with her.
“You can look for it, I’ll just be in the kitchen.” She nodded and began slowly walking around, and it seemed as though she was examining each space the building had to offer. You continued to mix the dough in the bowl without turning, your mind so set on perfecting the consistency that you jumped when you heard her voice.
“You’re married?” She asked while holding a portrait of you smiling with a man in a wedding dress, him in a suit. You were pregnant at the time, and your bump was visibly noticeable to her and anyone who saw it.
“Uhm, yes. Yes, I am.”
“But you don’t wear a ring?” You glanced at your empty hand with tight lips, refusing to look her way and pouring the unprepped bread into a greased pan.
“No, I do not. Me and Peter’s father aren’t entirely, uh, together if you could say so.” You didn’t understand why you shared the piece of information with the young girl who you barely knew, who your son barely even knew, but you found yourself being able to share the words easily.
“But he lives here, does he not? And Peter tells me you two are together?”
“Why are you asking my son if I’m married?” You avoided the question with one, hoping to remove the pressure from your end.
“That doesn’t matter right now, I asked you first.”
“It does matter.”
“It’ll matter once you answer me.” You sighed, giving up as you set the timer on the stove and began walking towards the sink to clean your doughy hands.
“I got pregnant by a one night stand, he was that one night stand. We tried to make it work knowing we had a son on the way and even when Peter was born we were still trying, but we could never find ourselves being in love with one another. We still love each other, we’re just not in love. So instead of having a divorce, we thought it would be easier to stay together and see other people. He has a girlfriend who is okay with the situation, he often stays there or she’ll stay here, we’re actually pretty close. That way I can stay at home to care for the house and for Peter, Peter won’t need to be too affected by a divorce, and his dad can focus on his career.” MJ nodded in understanding with a hum, and unbeknownst to you, instinctively moved closer while you were still in front of the sink. You had not realized how long you had been washing your hands, being too focused on telling the story she asked for. It was only when you remembered the question you had asked her that you dried your hands and turned, only to have the girl standing only inches from you now.
“Uhm, and why- why were you asking Peter if I was married?” She smirked lowly at the thought, her free hand coming to the counter behind you while the other brushed against your hand. Her bag was gone now, and her jacket was still nowhere to be seen.
“Well, I’m interested in you. I’ve always liked, how do I put it,” She stared at your lips as your breath became uneven. You gulped, following her actions and licking your lips as you glanced upon hers.
“Older women?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Or you could say I’ve always liked more beautiful, mature women who know what the fuck they’re doing.” A small hint of red came to your cheeks and you cracked a small smile, causing the younger woman to chuckle softly.
“What about you? Have you ever thought about being with a girl?” Her thumb came to tease your lower lip, dragging it down slowly before she grasped your chin in her hold, not allowing you to look down in fear.
“I- I don’t…I don’t know.”
“That’s okay, I’d love to be your first. Do you want that? Do you want me, baby?” You nodded without a thought, fluttering your eyes shut as she leaned in to brush herself against you. You waited for the kiss you were anticipating, but it didn’t come. She was teasing you.
“MJ, please kiss me already.”
“Mm, I like the sound of that.” Before she could complete your request, you both heard the door open and close and jumped from one another. Your husband entered the kitchen with Peter and Ned trailing behind him, the two too engrossed in their conversation to notice the obvious elephant in the room. Your husband wasn’t however, and he hid a chuckle as he placed his suitcase on the counter.
“Hello, MJ, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hey, Mr. Parker.” He rolled his sleeves up and entered the fridge, grabbing the closest beer and taking a swig while Peter looked up at the noise.
“MJ, what are you doing here?” She shot you a glance before clearing her throat quickly, crossing her arms over her chest as she met his gaze as if nothing had ever happened.
“I left my jacket, I was just looking for it.”
“Oh, did you need any help?”
“No, I found it. We’re all good, thanks though.” He didn’t question her lack of holding the said clothing, and you sighed in relief before leading the attention away from her.
“Dinner will be done soon if you boys want to head upstairs and I’ll call you down soon.” MJ was ready to leave before Peter interrupted, a hopeful grin on his face as he held the new Lego set he just purchased.
“Do you want to stay for dinner? Me and Ned were going to work on this together, but with your help it could go by a lot quicker.” You secretly wished she’d say yes seeing as the interaction you two just held was not one to be left in the dirt.
“You two are such nerds, but fine.” The three went upstairs, MJ sharing one last glance with you before turning the corner and leaving you with your husband who had a large, teasing smirk on his face.
“Really? Peter’s friend?”
“How did you know her already?”
“He introduced me to her a few weeks ago when he stopped by Claire’s to grab his binder and I was there, I just never thought she’d try to fuck my wife.” He shrugged, laughing when you groaned in annoyance and rubbed your forehead.
“I don’t know how it happened, it just did.”
“Hey, I’m not judging, I just think you need to be careful.” You bit your lip in thought at his words.
“You don’t think Peter will be mad if he finds out? And the age gap-”
“Hey, stop that. This was your exact problem when we were dating, you worry and think too much, just let it go with the flow and be mindful of him too. If he finds out and doesn’t like it, that’s when things need to end. But if you’re happy and so is she, who cares what people think.” You knew he was right, but you also knew you had always been much too scared to date while having a son. MJ was his age, how would she handle that? And what if he was mad, upset, or worse, hated you for it? You didn’t know, but you also knew you spent that whole night wishing to relive the moment when her lips brushed against yours and imagining the feeling of them touching. You knew it would be so relieving, so why couldn’t you let yourself give in?
144 notes · View notes
alavit · 8 days
Text
Pull The Trigger.
Summary: Love is the very root of evil.
Tags: Alive!Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader, fluff, TW: obsessive behavior, stalking and manipulation(?), allusions to a school shooting.
Author’s note: I love him and he makes me sad, my ‘I can fix him’ mentality will NEVER leave me but actually, i can make him worse. Not beta read!
Side note: Reader is deranged, maybe even insane, this was just a test writing. You can also find it on my ao3.
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“Hi.” That’s how it started, a simple conversation opening handed to him on a silver plate. Tate hadn’t understood at all why anyone would approach him to start with, until he finally looked up from his plate to be met with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. You were odd, that’s what everyone said, but he had as much respect for social norms as he had for his mother’s boy-toy, none.
You were oddly eager to be sat at his table, no lunch in sight and your nails awkwardly picking at your flesh as you shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I want to be friends with you.” You blankly stated, eyes never leaving Tate’s even as his brows furrowed and he looked around, was this a prank? Looking back at you, he wasn’t sure it was. “What?” He voiced out as you straightened up, almost as if his confusion had been interpreted as an attack to you.
“I wanna be your friend, you don’t have friends.” You said, nail digging into the flesh of your hand as you smiled. He looked at me, you excitedly thought before parting your lips again: “I live next to your house, neighbors have to be friends.”
He doesn’t even remember nor did he try to know his neighbors but Tate couldn’t deny the rising interest in your freakish nature, he’s heard lots of rumors about you, all more unbelievable than the other.
“She’s evil.” “I heard she’s speaking to demons.” “She’s so freaky, did you know she brings a rat to school?” “She’s gonna kill us one day, she should be expelled.”
“Sure.” -is what he settles on, eyeing how you stop your assault on your own flesh, muttering a shaky ‘yes!’ under your breath as you get up, he raises a brow. “We can— can walk together after school!” You subject or more like decide, all on your own before getting up and leaving him to finish his food.
Huh, he likes whatever you’ve got going.
- -
“TATE!” A loud voice yells, catching up to him in the hallway— he was waiting and apparently that made you happy. If you had a tail, Tate thinks it’d be wagging from side to side by now.. it’s oddly endearing despite that apparent happiness stemming from him simply waiting for you.
The walk home was quiet, occasionally chatter beginning thanks to you. Tate learned a lot about you in that short amount of time.
Apparently you were an only child, had amazing grades (but a pitiful understanding of social cues) and liked him, yes, you had said that with no regards to how.. off-putting it’d come across. “I have no friends.” You said, softly smiling while kicking rocks. “That’s why i came up to you, so we can be friends, my mom and dad say degenerates stick together like glue.”
..did you realize you had just called him a degenerate? Yes, Tate definitely had gruesome plans for the future and that barely had damaged his pride to hear such words— he just wondered how you went by day to day with such a ‘filthy’ mouth. Playfully, he countered back: “Wouldn’t that mean they’re like, crazy too?” “They are.” You retort, the ‘joke’ flying over your head as you stare at him with the same crazed eyes.
“Just like you.” You add, pointing at him before stopping in front of his house— staring without talking— he finds it pretty, you’re pretty.
“Ah, wait,” you look around, as if scared to get caught before rushing and hugging Tate. Quickly retracting and leaving without another word, he blinks before scoffing a smile barely restrained as he enters his house— a house he hates just like he hates Larry.
- -
Days blur together, lonely weeks become smoking sessions, Tate doesn’t really realize it but little by little you enter his life, you’re like a parasite. “I got new painting supplies.” You absently remark from where you sat on his lap, hand moving to draw circles in your sketchbook.
This isn’t proper of friends to do, and if Tate knows that but do not speak of it— he’s not sure if it’s the same for you. “Yea?” He hums, smiling. “Can’t wait to see what masterpiece you come up with.” He mocks, all in fun spirits— to others, your paintings are worrying, sketch after sketches of you, dying or being mauled to death.
He’d prefer to call it, ‘artistic mutilation’ because he also does enjoy seeing them when you include him in them. It’s fucked up, but he’s learned overtime you both were fucked up.
The house seems almost oddly brighter with you here, not in a sense where you would be a savior guiding him with your light. Far from it. If anything, Tate thinks you’re gonna be his demise— his decision just gets easier and easier with you here.
You’re both ready for it. The noble war.
“Gasoline or bashing his head?” You call him out of his daydreaming, blinking, Tate can only offer the same twisted smile you wear on your face— eyes twinkling with anticipation.
“Gasoline.” He can’t help but chuckle when you voice out the same opinion, inevitably quick-starting the upcoming tragedy that will not only be yours and his death but Westfield’s.
If you guys can’t be happy on earth, you hope hell will be kinder.
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written by alavit — do not translate nor copy my works.
58 notes · View notes
howlingday · 2 months
Note
the arc family have a unique tradition, they forge their own swords every time another of their sons reaches the age to begin training, but infuse these weapons with the spirit of said son. this creates a spirit weapon that can grow with the affore mentioned son and help them on their journey. thing is, both jaune and his sword Lucerna Intrepidus are huge dorks who have taken to wandering around vale fighting grimm to try and kick off a grand adventure so they can be heroes. with jaune's dear companion lucy growing stronger with every grimm she devours she's quickly out stripped the 12 year old in strength if only there was someplace she could go with her young partner to make them both stronger and better at fighting! summer has been retired since her run in with salem basically crippled her while her eyes remain in tact the horrors she and raven went through (mainly her since raven only showed back up at the last minute to save her) shattered her soul in ways she's only just starting to recover from. but training ruby and yang has been a fun hobby it's a shame they're going to be entering the combat school, she's got ruby for two more years and yang will still be there to train after school but it's going to be boring during the days without them. if only there was some young impressionable child she could take as an apprentice! papa arc was going to give jaune such a spanking when he found the boy, he seemed to be always just one step behind him! at least his new sword was keeping him alive after he ran off from home into the wilds to be a hero. where could he have gotten to? a story in which everyone keeps missing the plot, or rather everyone is in a different genre of story and the plot keeps switching. tldr: jaune is being trained by a retired summer and is having an action adventure. summer is going through slice of life and papa arc is handling a mystery comedy looking for his lost son who he always seems to just miss seeing only the after math of his actions and having to fix the issues spawned from it.
"Lucie~! Wait uuup~!"
Jaune Arc, a young boy off on an adventure far away from his home, followed the instinctual pull of his sword and companion, Lucierna Intrepidus! Or, as Jaune referred to her, Lucie. She was a marvelous blade, forged with the spirit of Jaune imbued into her core... located exactly on her pommel. She shone a brilliant aqua blue to match her partner's eyes.
"No way!" She called out. "We've only just started! You can't expect us to be heroes by killing just a few rats, can you?"
"N-No, but we never killed anything bigger than a rat." Jaune reasoned as he his feet were nearly dragged.
"So? This is our moment!" The sword raised itself high. "Think of it! Lucierna Intrepidus, the mighty sword held aloft by Jaune Arc, the greatest sword and swordmaster of all time~!"
"Well, maybe some day, but I'm only 12. I still need to go to school and-"
"Forget school! We need a mentor! And until we find one..." A sudden shift to the left knocked Jaune off his feet and sent him rolling down the hill. "Adventure will teach us what to do!"
"Lucie, you're being.... being..."
Not far from where Jaune landed was a Grimm. And not just any Grimm, but a Beowolf. Next to the Ursa, it was the second-biggest Grimm to wander these woods. It's blood-red eyes seemed to catch ablaze at the sight of the young hero. The young hero who was shaking in his boots.
"Uh..."
"S-See?" Lucie said, her voice also quivering. "Adventure's, uh, just ahead of us..." Steeling her nerves, if she had any, she began barking orders to Jaune. "Dueling stance! Sword up! Sword out! Ready to fight!"
Jaune, having been drilled for the past few months by both his sword and his father, snapped into position with his blade set between himself and the black beast stalking towards him with massive jaw wide open.
"Y-Yup! That's it! Now step forward!" Jaune froze. "Hey! Don't embarrass me in our first real fight!" The boy was shoved off-balance by his sword, making him stumble and fall. As he looked up, he saw the monster set upon him. He covered his head with Lucie. "JAUNE!"
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"Kids! Suppertime~!"
Ruby, Yang, and Jaune ran as fast as they could to the dining room. Before they could be told to do so, they set their training weapons upon their respective racks, then went into the bathroom to wash their hands. The three then took their seats at the dinner table, where Taiyang was already setting down the side dishes.
"Do you want roast beef, Yang?" Summer asked.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah~!" The blonde girl practically vibrated in her seat.
"What do you say, Yang?" Taiyang raised his brow.
"Roast! Beef! Roast! Beef~!" Yang chanted, tapping her fork and knife on the table.
"Yang!"
"Roast! Beef! Roast! Beef!" Ruby joined in, chanting with her sister and pounding her tableware in unison.
"Um, I would like roast beef, Mr. Xiao Long." Jaune said timidly. For his politeness, he was rewarded with the thickest (for a child) slab of roast beef placed squarely on his plate, earning whines from the two girls. "And may I have green beans and carrots, too?"
Summer giggled as her girls watched in astonishment as their own father chose her apprentice over them. While they stared, she prepared plates for them before making her own. Taiyang did the same for Jaune before sitting down.
"So, did you kids play anything fun today?" The huntress asked.
"We played hide and seek!" Ruby chirped.
"Jaune cheated." Yang huffed. "He used his sword to peek on us!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Alright, enough!" Taiyang barked. "There will be no fighting at this table. Now, I want you kids to sit there and eat your food quietly." If there were to be any grumblings, they quickly died when Tai gave them the ol' Blue Eye Bane, a glare so chilling that it made you behave real quick!
"Jaune, I was speaking to your mother today." Summer said after slicing her roast beef into little squares. "She's wondering if you're ready for your first day at Signal tomorrow with Ruby."
"Um... I think so..." Jaune answered, unsure if he really was.
"Oh, you will be!" Taiyang said with a smile. "After all, you've had plenty of Tai-me to get ready!" The blond man and his daughter shared a giggle while his wife and her daughter gave a groan. Jaune just looked confused.
"It's okay to be nervous, Jaune." Summer said. "Being nervous just means something is new to you and you don't know what the best way to go forward is. In the end, though, it always come down to one answer."
"Go forward?" Jaune guessed.
"Exactly!" Summer took a bite of her cutlet of roast beef. "Mm~! You've really outdone yourself tonight, dear!"
"Thanks, honey!" Taiyang smiled. "I'd say this beef is better than the roast~!"
"Tai, please..."
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"Oh, please, be here somewhere..."
Nicholas Arc wandered into the quaint, little farming town, hoping to find some clue as to where his son ran off to this time. This was, by and far, the furthest from home Jaune had ever been. It had been almost a week since he left home on the hunt for him, doing his best to not panic at the prospect that his progeny was perforated, pulverized, or otherwise pulled apart by some predacious pests or worse, some kind of putrid pervert.
"No!" He shook his head. He had to stay focused. He had to find his son, and he could only do that with a clear head. And what better way to get a clear head than with coffee?
He entered the convenience store, a chime and a woman about his age greeting him. He greeted her back and headed to the coffee machine. Waiting for his cup to fill, he looked to the lottery tickets. Inside the glass, from and center, was a rabbit with a cute smile and a flower by their ear. The flower's petals were colored in on every other across from each other.
"Pumpkin Patty..." From the Pumpkin Pete Pumpkin Patch Pals Show that his girls loved to watch. And Jaune. In fact, Jaune was especially enamored with the girl rabbit, so much so that he drew her face with that same flower every chance he got-
"MA'AM!" The woman flinched. He pointed to the lottery box. "WHOSE RABBIT DRAWING IS THAT?!"
She looked to the drawing. "Some kid?"
"Was it a boy?!" Nicholas asked, finally pulling himself back if only just for a moment. "Was it a boy who drew that picture?!"
"Sir, I need you to calm down." She waved her hands to the counter. "He just wanted to draw on something while his teacher was waiting for the donuts."
"Teacher?! What teacher?!"
"Some woman in a white robe." She shrugged.
Nicholas would recognize that description anywhere! The White Reaper! The Angel of Death! He thought she'd retired years ago! But now, there was no mistaking it! His son was abducted by...
"SUMMEEER ROOOOOOOOOOOSE!"
The woman looked outside the convenience store to the screaming man. "Sir, you need to pay for that coffee."
61 notes · View notes
holdupjack · 9 months
Text
Just Put On The Fleece
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Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader
Warning: sexual suggestions
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Third Person P.O.V:
7th Year
Y/n strolled towards Hogsmeade with a smile as snow fell all around her. The lake was completely iced, she could see a few students skating atop its surface.
Snowflakes fell onto her bare arms as some students gave her strange looks at her choice of clothing. She wore just her white button-up and pants, which wasn’t up to most people’s standards when it came to this type of weather.
She didn’t pay them any kind though, instead continuing her peaceful walk to Pippins Potions to stalk up on some ingredients for her next class.
As much as Y/n didn’t feel all the nervous about catching a cold, she did however look over her shoulder every once in a while.
Before she had left to start her walk towards the Village, she had run into Ginny. Now this wasn’t unusual, since they were good friends, but she was even better friends with Y/n’s girlfriend.
Hermione Granger.
The two have been dating for a little over two years now, and to say the least, Hermione was not a huge fan of Y/n’s disregard for winter wear.
They have gotten into fights about it, but they were never huge or harmful. They were just little spits the couple had from time to time around the holidays.
Now Ginny was a little instigator, she loved to get Y/n in trouble with Hermione, and Y/n knew it. Granted, she would never say something to harm their relationship, but Y/n with no coat? Going out into freezing temperatures?
Fair game.
So now Y/n had eyes in the back of her head, almost like she was waiting for her girlfriend to appear out of thin air like a horror movie.
Y/n couldn't help but smile fondly as Hermione's concerns echoed in her mind. Always the protective one, her bushy-haired bookworm. Not that Y/n minded - it was just one more way she knew she was loved.
Reaching Hogsmeade at last, she hurried inside Pippin's Potions to escape the icy kisses peppering her skin. The familiar jingle of bells greeted her, along with friendly shopkeeper Irma Pippin herself.
"Afternoon dear! Back for more fluxweed I see. Winter rolling in already?" The old witch chuckled, taking note of Y/n's sparse attire as she gathered the ingredients into a small pouch.
"You know me Irma, a little chill never bothered me much." Y/n chuckled, exchanging a few knuts for her purchases, placing the pouch into her pocket.
"Though my darling Hermione might avow otherwise..."
Just then, the bells jangled loudly once more. Speak of the devil and so she shall appear, it seemed! Y/n turned with a smile to greet her favorite furious witch.
"Hello, love! Fancy running into you here..." Y/n chuckled nervously as she backed up slightly, almost bumping into Irma as Hermione stepped closer with a stern glare.
“Don’t you ‘hello love’ me! What are you doing out in the snow with no protective clothing!” She says with gritted teeth as the older witch just chuckled as she walked to the back of her shop, muttering ‘if you break it, you buy it’.
“Uh…” Y/n said nervously as Hermione stepped even closer.
Y/n flashes her best disarming smile, hoping to soothe her darling's ruffled feathers. "Now now love, you know a little chill doesn't bother m- oof!"
She's cut off as Hermione shoves a giant fleece throw into her arms. It's garishly orange and covered in little purple cauldrons.
"Here, now you have no excuse. Put this on at once before you catch hypothermia," Hermione huffs, fussing over Y/n until the monstrosity is wrapped snugly around her frame. Only her scowling face remains uncovered.
"There! Don't you look cozy?" Hermione states with a smirk, obviously loving the form of punishment she had procured for their way back to the school.
“I’m not wearing this.” Y/n declared as she playfully glared back at Hermione, who was not happy to hear the defiance.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Hermione says as she grasps Y/n’s face and squishes her cheeks together.
“You’re going to make me swallow my tongue” Y/n muttered as Hermione gave her lips a quick peck and let the girl's face go.
“Now, will you be a listener today, or will I have to ‘accio’ you all the way back to my dorm?” Hermione asks as Y/n crosses her arms and grumbles to herself.
“But I don’t wanna wear this atrocious thing” Y/n whined, which made her girlfriend roll her eyes and sigh, placing her hands on her hips.
“Seriously, Y/n-“
That was all she could get out before the garment was tossed back at her, and the jingling of bells was her only indicator that Y/n had just made a break for it,
“What the- Y/N!” Hermione yelled angrily as she pulled the clothing away from her face and dashed back out into the village. Her eyes darted from left to right, soon landing on Y/n, who was standing at the end of the block with a shit-eating grin.
Y/n's mischievous antics would be the death of her, Hermione swears it. With a steely gaze, she marches purposefully down the street, fleece trailing menacingly behind like a wrathful cape.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?" she calls as she closes the distance. But Y/n only grins wider, dancing nimbly out of reach.
"Now now love, can't we discuss this civilly over butterbeers? I'm parched from all this invigorating exercise!" Y/n teases as she continues to back away.
"The only thing you'll be drinking is that foul lake water if you don't surrender yourself this instant!" She stays with a scowl as she watches the snow fall onto her lover's hair and bare skin.
But when has a threat ever stalled this rogue?
With a cheeky blow of a kiss, Y/n pivots on her heel and bolts down a side alley.
“Y/n Y/l/n!”
Hermione gives pursuit, weaving deftly through the village streets. She tries her best not to bump into anyone as she chases Y/n down alleyways and stairways to different streets. At last, she corners her favorite miscreant in a dead end.
"Gotcha!" she crows, triumphantly diving forward to wrap Y/n in her fleecy fate. But the rogue is too swift, spinning nimbly aside with a peal of laughter.
"Is that the best you've got, bookworm?" Y/n taunts, dancing just out of reach again. Her playful grin mocks Hermione's frustration to new heights.
"Why you impertinent—" Lunging again, Hermione feints one way then tackles the other, taking her willful partner by surprise. They tumble headlong into a snowbank, wrestling fiercely as the flakes fall upon their flushed faces.
"Yield, you beautiful scoundrel!" Hermione growls between giggles, wrestling the fleece around Y/n's struggling form at long last.
"Now take your medicine like a good girl." She smirks, pinning her captive beneath triumphant hips, Hermione then leans down to deliver a punishing kiss.
Well, as punishing as a kiss between two love birds can be.
"Let that be a lesson to cross me again, my darling rogue." She whispers when she pulls away, affection softens her stern eyes, and melting away Y/n's resistance completely.
"Oh very well, you've bested me, Granger. Have your victory - this time." Y/n sighs dramatically as she grins up at her girlfriend, and finally accepts her fleecy prison.
"I believe you have an apology to make, you hoodlum." Hermione chuckles, securing Y/n firmly in place as they stand up from the snowbank.
“How about another kiss instead?” Y/n asks with a smirk as she wraps the fleece around their heads and gives another peck to her girlfriend's lips. Hermione just chuckled and happily accepted this form of apology.
So deciding to be a little daring as well, and since they were hidden in a small alleyway, Hermione jumped into her girlfriend's arms. Y/n fell back into the snow, holding onto Hermione tightly as she pressed kisses onto Y/n’s face and lips repeatedly.
Hermione wasn’t this affectionate usually, at least not in public, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love these moments. Where Y/n would do something idiotic, like refusing to wear proper winter clothing, and then make Hermione chase her around Hogsmeade like they’re thirteen again.
A tender smile curves Y/n's lips as her darling bookworm showers her with affection. Moments like this make all their spirited misadventures worthwhile, reminding her anew why she fell for this fiery soul.
"I love you, you know," she murmurs between caresses, gazing up at Hermione with open adoration. It still amazes her sometimes - that such a brilliant witch could love a roguelike her in return.
But love Hermione does, with a passion to match even Y/n's flame. And so their game of chase leads ever onward, whatever obstacles life sends their way.
For now, lost in each other's arms amidst the falling snow, the world beyond fades away. No cares nor duties intrude on this perfect moment, shared alone between two hearts entwined as one.
“Do you mean it?” Hermione whispered as she stared at Y/n with a curious expression, but the tugging smile at the corner of her lips told Y/n that she just wanted to hear her say it again.
“Awe my lovely Gryffindor, I love you more than the ocean loves the shore” Y/n chuckled as she kissed her once more, earning a happy hum from Hermione.
“Aren’t you poetic today?” Hermione whispers as she kisses down Y/n’s jaw, earning a soft purr as the snow melts against her back. Y/n blushes under Hermione's teasing, always rendered bashful by her beloved's quiet charms.
"Only for you, my love. You inspire the poet in me unlike any."
Her touch sends thrills cascading through Y/n's form, setting her aflame despite the chill. How fortunate she was to have found not only a partner to match wits with, but one so generous with passion as well.
"I fear if we linger longer entwined, my good intentions may go out the window," Y/n chuckles, making Hermione snicker and throw the fleece off of their faces. She sits up, straddling Y/n’s hips as she shakes out the snowflakes from her hair.
“You are always so eager to rip my clothes off” Hermione snickers as Y/n shamelessly nods her head in quick succession.
“What do you say we retire to the Three Broomsticks for warmth and nourishment, before reckless passions overtake your mind?" Hermione teases as she stands up and hoists Y/n up to her feet. Pressing one last ardent kiss to perfect lips, Hermione dusts the clinging snow from supple curves. Offering an arm with a rakish smile, she leads them from the alley and back to the bustling thoroughfare.
“So…how about later?” Y/n asked with a smirk as they walked towards the small pub.
“Promise to start wearing your coat?” Hermione asks, looking at her with a grin of her own.
“Fine…” Y/n mumbles in defeat as her girlfriend proudly pulls her quickly into the building.
“Then maybe…you can see what’s under mine tonight”
161 notes · View notes
lady-ashfade · 9 months
Text
Silly Darling
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—£ Yan!Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader x Yan!Ochako Uraraka.
—£ In this the reader is used as They/them. They also live in a apartment and work as a waiter/waitress.
—£ Warnings: Stalking, Killing, Knifes, Blood, Possessive, Obsession, Short stories.
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Deku & Ochako already have a relationship, secret to the public, but they stayed together through it all. They were in a rough patch of the relationship with all the work loud, nothing was threatening the relationship but it was hard for them. Pro hero life was stressful and they were working their way to get somewhere.
Then they finally have free time a whole weekend to themselves and they decided to go out for dinner at a restaurant. This is where you come in, their darling waiter! How you smiled at they and welcome them when they came in. You treated them normally and not like a fan.
You were attractive, so much that they fell for you instantly. The kindness you showed them was making them go crazy that it started to bug them when you didn’t make a big deal. Are they not popular enough? Don’t you know who that are?
“Me and girlfriend here are just off hero patrol, it’s our night off.” Deku replied when you asked if it was a special night.
“Oh, that’s amazing.” You hummed and smiles at them, not giving them enough praise for their liking. “You must be hungry then, should we get started?”
Oh boy did they never forget you. The moment they got in the car they both started to talk about you.
“They were too perfect, I mean I love you deku. But they- I don’t know.” She played with her thumb nervously in her seat.
“I understand what you mean. They’re too kind for their own good.”
They start to come in more to see you often and they sit in your section. It was a way to see you close and have you talk to them.
And not just from watching you from a window or following you home. No, this was your attention. Way better.
Having two pro hero’s follow you around is more scary then you think. They have train in not being seen, how to find someone and have many connections. So it’s easy for them to find out every detail of your life. You’re first day of school pictures, who your friends are and family, and your ex’s.
You hated the feeling you got in your apartment. The feeling of constantly being watched and no matter how many times you checked around you couldn’t find anything.
After a few weeks they ask you out while they get ready to leave the restaurant. Making you flustered that both of them want you but you say yes and run away, after giving them your number.
They are always texting you. About your day or their’s, if something reminds them of you, where you’d like to go out next. After the first date it is hard to get away from them. Next thing you know, you’re in the a relationship with them out of the blue. Even if you felt hesitant about it they convinced you.
Then the yandere behavior really starts to take over.
They are aways near you. They are either staying at your place or you over at theirs. They also start to control your time out without them and even if they are working. You start to see less and less of your friends and get less calls from your family. And they try to talk you into quitting your job since they have money to take care of you.
“Don’t look so sad darling,” she twisted her hair and leaned on your body, “You have us and you need no one less!” She chirped happily as you cried over missing your family.
Then you are stuck. They made you get fired and now staying at their place and aways sabotage your job interviews. Making them your only hope in having money.
It wasn’t until you saw them beating up a man that hit on you at the grocery store in the alleyway. Blood drilling from his mouth as they continued to hurt his limp cold body, making it send a shiver down your spin and a ill feeling in your stomach.
“Guys?” You call out and clinch your chest and take a step back in fear.
They turn to you with blood on their face and glowing red eyes, “Baby, we told you to wait inside.” You swallowed to try and restore the dryness in your throat. “Tsk tsk, never do as you’re told.” Ochako pulls the knife from his corpse.
“You guys are sick! I thought you were heroes?” Screaming you tear up and grow angry. “We are through, I can’t believe I ever-” your breath hitches when wind blows on your skin and you see green lightning flash in front of your eyes. A hand wraps around your mouth, and breath hit the base of your neck.
“Don’t be like that love. We just do what’s best for you, this man was disgusting and touched what belonged to us. It’s only fair he pays the price,” his other hands wrap’s around your hips and his lips give you a soft kiss on the upper neck. “You’re our doll after all. The others had what was coming to them, and so did he.”
The others….There were more? How many people have they killed. How long have you been dating murders. You saw the flags before but you didn’t think they were this crazy for you. How in the hell could you get out of this?
“Silly baby, you disobeyed us. When we get home you’re going in time out, even more because you saw this.” She cupped your cheek as you stare fearful at the girl you once loved.
“Don’t be afraid, doll. We would never hurt you.”
201 notes · View notes
jellyfishsthings · 10 months
Text
Warnings: not my usual work but I was in the feels, really funny James, some suggestive content but not smut
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The loud, booming music from downstairs rattles the walls. Gryffindor in celebration of winning this year's tournament decided to throw a school-wide party, organized by yours truly James Potter and Sirius Black. Even after many hours, the party was still in full swing. My eyes roam the room once again and my eyes fall at him. He looks incredibly handsome in that long lazy buttoned shirt and dark trousers. His eyes shine full of mischief as he catches me staring. I don't shy away from his gaze.
He smirks as he brings his cup, surely filled with Butterbeer, to his lips and throws me a wink. His fingers move clockwise three times, our signal. He moves from his spot against the wall, saying something to Peter as he walks off towards the staircase that leads to the boys' dormitory. I wait one, two, three long minutes until I follow him as sneakily as possible. He doesn't wait for me, she knows that I will find my way to him, all the secret hiding of our relationship has given me great knowledge of the Gryffindor House. I close the door quietly behind me as I enter the room and I am engulfed by his scent.
"You look-" he starts.
"No time for that." I cut him off and slammed my lips to his. He lifts me effortlessly and throws me to his bed. He crawls towards me and positions himself on top of me. I grab his face and kiss him again as my hands fly to his shirt, trying to get rid of it as quickly as possible. My dress follows his shirt across the room and he unclasps my bra, as his lips trail a fiery path of kisses and bites down my neck, across my collar bones and onto my chest. I am lost at the feel of him, at the feel of his lips on my body, of his greedy hands as they grab me harshly. Logic flying out of my head.
A quiet moan leaves my lips and he smiles victoriously until….
A knock is shortly followed by "Mate open up I have the girl out here."
"Well I have a girl in here." Remus fires back angrily as I cover myself and he throws his head but into his pillow while groaning, as James's muffled voice sounds.
"No you don't."
I smack his chest as he pulls up his pants and hastily puts his shirt on. "We are hanging out in here."
"Which one is going to have sex in here , me or you?" Remus's face drops at that, his eyes dramatically rolling, ticking his jaw, hitting his head to the door while zipping up his pants and I giggle at his antics.
"Well I suppose I would have to say, you." He practically growls and fires me a sharp look. I simply smile at him as I slowly let go of his duvet and dress myself up. "What if we were watching a movie in here?"
"Which movie?" I chuckle at James's reply and stalk towards Remus. He pouts at me and places his hands on my ass squeezing lightly.
"I will kill him, I swear. Give me a reason not to do it." He whispers.
"Well you won't be having this in prison." I answer as I wiggle my ass while it's still in his hold and reach my face to his to rub our noses, like an Eskimo kiss.
"You are so right, why didn't I think of that." He is still annoyed but humor colors his words.
"Moony?"
"We are watching Dead Poets Society." Remus answers calmly as he sways into an imaginary beat.
"Really? I fucking love that movie."
"Of course you do." Remus says darkly, causing a small laugh from me.
"Potter let them be." Lily's voice says and both me and Remus stop moving. To say we are shocked would be an understatement.
"It's okay, Lils, we will go somewhere else." I say before Remus tries to stop me. We check ourselves in the mirror before we exit the dorm, smiling at our friends and their shocked reaction as we head outside.
"How long have you not been… whatever you were?" Lily's quiet voice says.
"What are you talking about? "
"You can't stand each other."
"Yes but since you are all dating we are each other's only option for a decent conversation." I tell her.
"Yes I would really much prefer it if she just couldn't talk." Remus says and the last thing they see is a very smug Remus Lupin and me with fiery cheeks as I remember how exactly he can shut me up.
204 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for causing my friend to be married off without her consent?
I know that seems very bad, and I DO think it's very very bad, but my friend herself didn't blame me explicitly and thinks none of what happened is my fault, but i still feel guilty about it so I'm leaving the judgement to the Tumblr court. I apologize for the length of this post.
We (27F) have been best friends since we were 6. I'm from the middle east while she is African, this part is very important. She lived here since she was born, however she moved back to her country after graduation, but now lives in the UK with her husband so we've been online friends ever since her graduation.
Anyway, this is something that happened when we were in middle school. We were both 13, my friend confided in me that she has a crush on a certain boy who was also African. She clearly told me not to tell anyone about this, but I went ahead and told her African friends right in front of her. That in itself was very AH of me, I broke her trust and revealed her secret, and I didn't even apologize later.
In our culture a crush is just something to giggle and laugh about, which is why I didn't consider what I did was a big deal and I had a poor judgment not taking in consideration that her culture might perceive things differently.
Anyway, her friends spread the word, and it reached her family. They accused her of being in relationship with him (she wasn't) which is very scandalous in both of our cultures. She was proven innocent and I thought that was the end of it.
However, in high school when we were 17, she had a thing for a different boy, who had the same name as the boy she previously had a crush on, this was hardly a coincidence since Muhammad is a common name. She talked with him and exchanged gifts and that was about it. She set clear boundaries that they can't do anything until marriage, however that all happened behind her parents' back and when she got found, they assumed it was the same boy and that she had been meeting up with him since middle school, so it was hard to believe that they didn't do anything at all. They locked her up at home, took her phone and beat her. She somehow was able to contact a mutual friend, who in return contacted me to help because we were neighbors and could go to my friend's house anytime I wanted. The message I received from our mutual friend wasn't clear, I had no idea what was happening, I was just told to go and stay with her, they assumed her parents wouldn't dare to hit her in front of me and that's why I was needed. Anyway I went and sat with her, they called her to the kitchen so she could get snacks and tea for me, but when she went they closed the door and started beating her up again because they figured she asked for me to come. I was shaking the whole time having no idea what to do, I considered telling my mom but I decided against it because she was a good friend with my friend's mother so she wouldn't believe it, or she'd believe my friend is a bad girl and I wouldn't be allowed to hang out with her anymore.
Thanfully they stopped beating her up after a couple of days, and things went wack to normal.
Later when she was 20, a rich man proposed to her, who was a family friend. He was a total psycho, he stalked her to college, waiting for her outside and did many other creepy things. She told her family, but they didn't believe her. They thought she was making it up because she didn't want to marry him, but they told her she had no choice because she had a bad reputation and no man would want to be with her, and that she was lucky a rich man would want to be with her. They even turned away other suitors because they assumed they'd change their mind if they knew about her past. She has 5 sisters and none of them received the same treatment. She's the only one who was forced to get married because of her reputation.
She accepted her fate and married him. She asked me to attent the wedding, I had no idea if she wanted me for emotional support, or that she just her best friend to be with her in her wedding, but either way I couldn't attend because she was in a whole different continent and I wasn't independent yet to travel on my own, and my family members were busy and couldn't travel with me. My friend was adamant about having me there, she even tried to arrange for her wedding to be held in my country, but her request was denied since most of her relatives wouldn't be able to attend. The only thing I could do to make up for this was to draw myself attending her wedding and hugging her in her wedding dress after she sent her wedding pics.
I kept in contact with her asking how she's doing, how her husband treats her etc, but she told me he was fine, that he seemed like a completely different person and that he loves her for real, and she's happy. It's not as bad as she thought it would be. It was hard to believe considering his previous actions, but what mattered most that my friend was happy.
She moved to the UK with her husband and we lost contact for a while, but when we finally talked she was always busy and could barely talk a lot. Many things were happening in her life and I only knew the gist of it because she didn't always have time to sit down and facetime me. But currently her husband is not so good. I don't know enough details to know if he's abusive or just AH, but he also cheats on her. She is planning a divorce when the time is right, and is glad she's independent enough that her family can't have a say in the matter anymore, but it will be tough on her specially since she has two children so far, and will probably have more before she could arrange for a divorce. I support her with whatever decision she'd makes, but I can't help but think none of this would have happened if I just kept my mouth shut at 13. To this day, I still wonder why she didn't stop talking to me when I did that. I don't think I deserve her friendship, yet to this day, she's alway telling me I'm the most wonderful person she met and that she's very grateful to have me in her life. Throughout the events of this story, she has always vented to me as if wasn't my fault. And all I could do was nodding along. Couldn't even help her or fix the situation, or even say something supportive, but she's grateful to me regardless. Recently she opened up to me at how she can't make friends anymore because she had terrible experiences since her college days, that her so called friends end up hurting her in the worst possible way and she feels none of the friends she will ever make would treat her well like I do. I didn't ask about what she went through (but I plan to once she has time) because I was so stunned that she thinks the way I treat her is any good. I replied by saying that I'm not perfect either, and that I have hurt her so much in the past. She was confused, and asked me to give her an example. I brought up the fact I divulged her secret at 13 but I was surprised she said she didn't remember that but it was probaly a harmless joke and I should stop worrying over something dumb I said as a dumb teenager because for sure I wouldn't act the same way now.
I didn't discuss this further to avoid bringing back terrible memories for her, but I'm shocked how she doesn't remember it considering everything that happened to her because of it. In fact, I started wondering if she even remembers the things that happened to her because of what I did, because if she forgot those too, it could be her brain blocking traumatic memories.
So Tumblr, AITA or am I just over thinking?
What are these acronyms?
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bambi-kinos · 6 months
Note
Re: John being demi - don’t you think it’s possible he had sex because that’s what was expected of him? His age, lifestyle, etc. Especially because of his self-destructive tendencies and not always acting on how he truly feels. Or acting in a way that doesn’t express how he truly feels - i.e. Barcelona. He could have easily slept with Yoko early on, with her throwing herself at him but it wasn’t until correspondence and a deeper connection did he engage sexually. Not to mention him not wanting to have sex with men later in life because he couldn’t find one he connected with in that way. To me even the lyric “My love will turn you on” - is revealing.
If you want to interpret John Lennon as demisexual then you certainly can and I can't and won't stop you. But since you're asking me directly my answer is just a flat "no." John was sexually attracted to women so he slept with them. He was conventional that way. He was also hooking up with Yoko soon after Indica, he did not wait until the night he took LSD with her and recorded the sex tape.
You need to remember the cultural climate John existed in. It was "expected" of John to get married to a woman, settle down with her, have children, hold a steady uninspiring job, and then die at 70 with a gold pocket watch in his waistcoat without ever standing out from the crowd or doing anything that would express his individuality and personal needs. These were the stultifying expectations John grew up under and he hated it.
The Beatles kept their orgies secret because it would have destroyed them as a band if it got out that they were nailing groupies, this is the exact OPPOSITE of it being "expected" of them to have sex with lots of women.
The performative aspect was the groupies expectation of John to act like Beatle John while he was thrusting. That doesn't mean John disliked it or was carrying out an act he found distasteful for the sake of expectations. And remember: John kept posters of Bridget Bardot and Elvis Presley in his bedroom at Mendips because he was jerkin' it to their images. He only had a parasocial fanboy relationship with them but he was deeply sexually attracted to both. This is the opposite of demisexuality which requires a personal connection of some kind.
I talked about this in the McLennon server this afternoon so I'll just repost what I said in there:
Leggy「IT'S A GUNDAM 」 — Today at 5:20 PM john was just so laden with PTSD and agoraphobia
like Shotton talks about how John started turtling up once he got Kenwood, the hibernation years were a long time coming. but he was so deeply separated from other people even as a child and that just got worse and worse over time.
like sex was a way for John to connect with human beings and I wonder if it was the only way he could. that's not to say he couldn't fall in love if he met people but he had to keep his connections shallow as a matter of survival, he wasn't able to form those relationships easily and when he did connect to others it was because they pursued him.
Cynthia was the aggressor in her relationship with John, he liked her but he didn't pay attention to her until she dyed her hair blonde to catch his eye. Paul was super down bad. Yoko stalked him.
Otherwise even as a teenager John's relationships were strictly about sex, not romantic love, and he wasn't interested in romantic love until Paul and art school came into his life.
***
This is the exact opposite of demisexuality. John could form personal relationships and he could fall in love with people but when he did, he seemed to back away from them sexually. If we count Paul as one of John's lovers (and I do) then we see this happen to where John broke it off with Paul to pursue someone else physically (in this case Yoko.) John liked using sex as a way to connect with others but the moment genuine feelings got involved he got skittish. Note that he initially was planning to buy a house with May Pang but then he went back to Yoko when the Montauk plans began solidifying. John was certainly attracted to May Pang and he certainly had a personal connection with her but when that started getting a little too real and too deep, then he left her and would only hook up with her occasionally in controlled environments where he could ghost her easily afterwards.
The same thing happened with Yoko: after Sean was born, she and John stopped having sex and she sent him to the massage parlors to avoid dealing with him.
And don't forget how John's relationship with May Pang started: Yoko hired May Pang to be John's mistress. May was paid by Yoko to have sex with John and to keep him within Yoko's reach while they were in Los Angeles, what with Yoko's daily phone calls. May did fall in love with John but John knew that May was a business asset controlled by his wife and that she was being paid to never leave him. This was the foundation of their affection for each other. When May and John went back to New York and started looking for houses in Montauk, John opted to go back to Yoko for her smoking cure and came back ready to leave May Pang, aka the relationship with May Pang was becoming too real and too deeply rooted in actual Love (with that capital L) that meant May would no longer be forced to stay with John due to receiving a salary from Yoko Ono.
What seems to be more of a pattern in his life is that he was very wary of forming personal connections with others, when they did form it was because the second person pursued him vigorously, and then he had a saddening tendency to leave once his love with that second person began to develop into a deep, long lasting adult relationship. If anything, John seemed to use sex as a way to keep himself hidden and to stop forming connections with others because the moment he had sex with someone he could safely label them "disposable" which is exactly what he did with Paul and May despite his intense connections with both of them and the fact that he was sexually intimate with both of them.
John seemed to fear love and the responsibilities and ecstasies that it brings. This is not demisexuality as I understand it and I simply cannot agree with the assertion that John was demisexual.
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Let Me Spell It Out For You
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Jax Teller x Rockstar!Reader "Firefly" Ex Bf!Rockstar!Steve Rogers x Reader
Wordcount: 2599
Summary:
It’s Battle of the Bands Night at your local hole in the wall bar run by SAMCROW. You're currently dating their prez Jax Teller. Your lifelong best friend and first real love. Somehow your ex, Steve Rogers and his band The Howlies have shown up, vying for top spot and the cash prize. Such a shame they’ll have to go against you and your all girl group Serenity. It’s going to be a verbal bloodbath and you can’t wait to humiliate his arrogant ass.
Warnings:
Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Exes, Jax Teller Being an Asshole, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism, Accidental Voyeurism, Fuckboy Steve Rogers, rubbing it in your exes face, Teaching A Lesson
Notes:
Hello Heathens, I was feeling some type of way and well this is what came of it. Enjoy the fuck you Steve vibes. Songs lyrics used are in bold. All songs will be credited in the end notes :) HAPPY READING!
Divider @firefly-graphics Banner @cafekitsune
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The energy in the bar was none short of chaotic. Between the loud music, the alcohol flowing and the rowdy mix of bikers and patrons it was looking to be a night to remember.
“I can not wait to get up on that stage and destroy some wannabes!” Zoey practically shouts while strapping on her electric guitar.
“Nothing beats that high,” I smile devilishly. “Well except for sex of course.”
We all laugh as we hear our band being called to the stage. “Next up, Serenity!”
It’s the first round of Battle of The Bands Night. I’m not worried about making it to the final round and grabbing the cash prize. Most bands here are so fresh they haven’t performed as a group much yet. So that leaves us at an advantage. We’ve been thick as thieves since high school when we used to skip class and jam out in my garage.
Not wanting to blow our load on the first round we chose to start with “Becky’s So Hot” to show off our sex appeal and my vocal talents. I may be singing about Becky, but in actuality it’s about the time in my life when Jax was dating Tara when he and I were broken up. 
I wanted to destroy her for having the audacity to be with him. While at the same time I wanted to know first hand what made her so special that he kept her around as more than just a lay. The feelings were so conflicting, the only way I could work through it was to put it into a song.
Fine, okay, I'll say, I went and stalked her And I don't really blame you 'cause Damn, the waist, the hips, the face, this is awkward Are you in love like we were? If I were you, I'd probably keep her Makes me wanna hit her when I see her 'Cause Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt Ooh, she the one I should hate But I wanna know how she taste I kinda wanna hit her when I see her Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt
As we reach the interlude, my eyes catch the familiar frame of one Steven Grant Rogers. My ex and lead singer of The Howlies. Standing to his left, bass strapped to his chest, is of course Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend and cliché fuckboy musician. 
He happens to also be Zoey’s ex. This is going to be interesting to say the least. It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. Much less been in the same room competing to see who the better band is. 
It’s us of course. The Howlies are good. But they rely heavily on their good looks to fill seats. About 80% of their fans are of the female variety. Where ours is ratioed at about 60/40.
I turn to Zoey. She gives me a subtle nod. Acknowledging she’s aware of their presence and that it’s playtime.
I scan the crowd for my favorite blonde haired biker until I lock eyes with Jax just as the final chorus begins. I sing to him for a moment before turning my attention back to enticing the crowd into wanting to see more of us.
I sing the last line and drop a kiss to Zoey’s neck, as I stare down our exes. A challenge in my eyes. Tonight just got so much more entertaining.
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As predicted, The Howlies make it to the next round. This time we were afforded the chance to watch them go before us.
They leaned full on into the whole sexy bad boy thing, playing “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE”. A song I helped Steve write. It’s a great song. Really gets the ladies hot and bothered. Never ceases to get them laid. Regardless of if they’re attached.
It’s cute that they think they somehow have the upper hand. I have more talent in my pinky finger than the lot of them combined. Plus all that feminine rage to go with it. 
With a whispered last line, the song is over. We wait for the next band to finish before we take the stage.
Where The Howlies went for a sexy hair band vibe for this round. We’ve taken the gritty and dirty approach by performing “Drain The Blood”. 
See we’re no one trick pony. We can growl and scream with the best of them. While still remaining soft and feminine at the same time.
This song always gets the crowd going. I can see elbows benign thrown and shoulders getting checked from my vantage point on stage. I just feed into the frenzy, hypnotizing the bar with our haunting harmonies over rough chords.
Another round in the bag.
As the night carries on, both of our bands make it to the final round. This is where we pull out all the stops and show them who the better band truly is.
Man is this going to feel great.
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The time has come to begin the final round.
It’s just us and The Howlies up on stage ready to give one final performance each. Facing off against each other as we share a stage.
We flipped a coin and the boys won, choosing to go first. Steve saunters up to the mic as the familiar beat of “Tear You Apart” begins behind him. 
I’m not surprised they chose to perform this song. It really is their best. Get’s the girls going crazy. They may think they have it in the bag with his haunting tune. 
But they couldn't be more wrong. 
I watch from our spot at the back of the stage, as Steve swivels and sways his large body to the beat. Singing about crossing the line from friends to lovers. The obsessive need to devour and take control. 
He once told me that I was the inspiration behind the music. That he had hungered for me from the moment he met me. That he spent days just biding his time, his mind obsessing. Playing an endless loop of me smiling sweetly. My touches, innocent in nature, felt anything but to him.
I was fuel to his creative mind. The ache he could not soothe until I was unattached.
When I was free from that biker shaped attachment he made his move.
It was intense and volatile. Burning out as quickly as it was set ablaze. For Steven wanted my heart when it has always belonged to another.
He makes a point to turn his back to the audience and move his hips like a hedonistic Elvis. We lock eyes as he sings the last line.
Give me those Ocean eyes all you want, pretty boy. I will never be yours for more than the memories I left your damaged soul with.
If he thought singing that song was going to throw me off somehow because of my affiliation to it, he was more delusional than I thought.
Two can play that game. And I am far better at it.
We wait for the swooning women to settle down as The Howlies step to the side of the stage and take our places. I make a show out of lowering the mic stand while Zoey begins strumming the opening chords to “abcdefu”.  
I kept it calm and cute as I sang my own song inspired by Steven.
I swear I meant to mean the best when it ended Even tried to bite my tongue when you start shit Now you're textin' all my friends asking questions They never even liked you in the first place Dated a girl that I hate for the attention She only made it two days, what a connection It's like you'd do anything for my affection You're goin' all about it in the worst ways I was into you, but I'm over it now And I was tryin' to be nice But nothing's getting through, so let me spell it out
I rip the mic off the stand, turn towards The Howlies and flip them the bird as Zoey joins me in singing the chorus.
A-B-C-D-E,  FUCK-U And your mom and your sister and your job And your broke-ass car and that shit you call art Fuck you and your friends that I'll never see again Everybody but your dog, you can all fuck off Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
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The look on their faces is priceless. Our song is catchy as fuck and by the time we make it back to the chorus the crowd is already sing along with us. All the women who were drooling over them minutes ago, have now all tapped into their feminine rage.
It’s glorious.
We brought it down to just me and Zoey's guitar as I lightheartedly told them they could all fuck off for the last time.
There was a beat of silence before the crowd erupted and ‘Serenity’ chants began. It was safe to say we won the battle. This particular victory never tasted sweeter. 
After accepting our prize and bragging rights, we made our way over to the MC is holding court in their favorite booth.
As we reach the table, Jax stands up and grabs my hand. Pulling me along behind him towards the closed off hall that leads to the extra rooms. 
As soon as we clear the doorway, he has me pinned against the wall with his lips locked with mine in a fevered dance. 
He pulls away when we are both in need of air. “You are so fucking hot when your up on stage. Even more so when you're being bad. Tell me, darlin’. You wearing anything under these leather shorts?”
“Do you see any panty lines?” I quirk a brow at him.
He literally growls at me before dropping to his knees and untying my shorts. He pulls them down, over my ass and thighs until he reaches my knees. “I only need you to pull one leg out for this.”
“And what pray tell do you have in mind?” I ask as I remove my right leg from the skin tight fabric. Leaving my shorts to gather on my left ankle.
He rises to his feet, unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out. It’s rock hard and angry. A bead of precum perched at the tip ready to drop at any moment.
“Jump.” He demands and I oblige. He grips onto my thighs. Wrapping them around his waist as he slides himself inside me. Pausing when our pelvis’s touch.  
The stretch of my walls accommodating his thickness steals my breath away. 
We make eye contact as he pulls back and slams forward. I have to bite my lip from moaning out and alerting the bar to what is going on.
Jax ruts into me with the skill and precision of a man who knows all too well what my body craves. But all I can focus on is how amazing his dick feels inside me.
Without a care in the world, he continues to fuck me. He’s so engrossed in trying to take me apart that he doesn't hear the door creak open.
But I do.
I watch over Jax’s leather clad shoulder as Steve walks in. I gasp at being caught by my former lover. 
Jax turns his head to the side to see what’s going on. He quirks a brow and then turns back to me, pressing his forehead to mine as he fucks me even harder. Almost as if he’s taunting him. 
"Go ahead and keep your eyes on him, darlin’. Watch as he remembers what you look and sound like lost in pleasure. Watch what it does to him.” He states aloud.
I lock eyes with the heavily tattooed blonde Adonis spectating our coupling. Noting the heat and hurt in his eyes. He refuses to move along though. Almost challenging me to follow through and enjoy what is happening. 
Alright then, Stevie. Challenge accepted.
I turn my gaze back to the man who owns my heart. Whispering for only us to hear, “Do your worst Jackson. I’m so close, baby. Go ahead and destroy me. Remind the whole bar who I belong to. Then we can get some good food on the way home and then get lost in each other all over again.”
I feel his chest vibrate against mine as he hums his satisfaction with my suggestion.
He pulls his hips back until just his tip remains cushioned by my slightly swollen lips. He takes a moment to turn my head toward a stoic Steve, still taking up space in the small hallway.
“Don’t you dare hold a single moan in. Let them all know. Especially him, why we’re so good together. Understand.” Jax commands.
I barely have a moment to nod my head in agreement before he snaps his hips forward and sinks back deep inside me. A moan escaping my throat at the feeling of being so full once again, so intensely.
Mind set on staking his claim for the whole bar to hear, Jax sets a ruthless pace. My eyes catch the ocean blues of Steve’s once more. 
The lust is clear, seemingly overshadowing the hurt for the time being. I don’t shy away from their harshness. I lean into it. Allowing it to fuel the flames of my impending orgasm.
He can be jealous and angry about the current situation all he wants. It won’t change a thing. Hopefully this little display will finally kill whatever thread of us being together he’s holding on to.
I put the thoughts of Steve aside. Focusing on the man between my thighs, thoroughly taking me apart. Placing every bit of love into each wicked thrust. He does that thing I love with his hips. Pivoting them a certain way that allows his tip to graze against my sweet spongy spot. 
It’s like a direct line to my climax. With each pass I can feel the coil tighten and a tingle begin at the base of my spine down to my toes. 
I’m panting and whimpering, uncaring of my surroundings. I can barely make out Jax’s encouraging words in my ear of how I'm a good girl. That I’m taking him so well.
With a well placed thrust, followed by a grind that has his belt buckle teasing my clit. I give in and succumb to the pleasure of my orgasm taking over me. I sound loud even to myself, as a guttural moan fills the air. I’m barely aware of Jax’s name being screamed out, along with the words yes and oh fuck on repeat.
I can just make out his own roar as he loses himself inside me. Filling me to the brim while he growls sweet praises in my ear as the world seems to fade away. 
I have no idea when I closed my eyes, but upon opening them, I see that we are alone again.
Jax takes that moment to grab my chin and lay the softest kiss to my lips. I can’t help but lean into the sweet gesture.
“Come on, darlin’. I’ve been told I need to feed my girl some greasy food before we settle in for the night.”
He helps me back into my shorts before pulling open the door that heads back into the bar. A ruckus of applause meets us as we navigate around the drunken bikers to the exit. Hoots, hollers and whistles follow us out into the night as we climb onto his bike and make our way home.
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Notes:
Songs used in this story. I do not own any of the rights these tracks. Please go give each artist a listen. Becky's So Hot - Fletcher I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE - Maneskin Drain The Blood - The Distillers Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge abcdefu (angrier) - GAYLE If you made it to the end, THANK YOU! If you liked it please feel free to let me know (but it's not required); and if you didn't, that's okay too, I still thank you for even giving it a chance.
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