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bichettes · 7 months

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the baseball fic™ || chapter 6

word count: 3911 summary: carrie finds out some shit, she makes a phone call, words are said, true colours are revealed (you'll be surprised), and she has a big decision to make warnings: talks of pregnancy, mention of/allusions to abortion, parents yelling??? i feel like i'm missing one or two more author’s note: BUCKLE UP YOUR SHIT IT'S ABOUT TO GET BUMPY, also this chapter is kinda proofread prev | next

March 2017

Carrie threw the baseball back to Jason. As she did, a wave of nausea came over her and her mouth began to water.

Uh oh.

She got up immediately from her crouch and ran over to the nearest garbage can. She tossed her mask somewhere to the side. Before she knew it she was emptying her stomach from the small breakfast she had forced herself to down a couple hours ago. A few teammates voiced some disgusted remarks but Carrie couldn’t hear it over the sound of her retching.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Coach Williams came up behind her. “You okay, kid?”

Carrie stood up straight, wiping her mouth with her long sleeve. “I’m fine, Coach.”

“You don’t look fine to me, Carrie,” he told her. “You said you were feeling better-”

“And I was… or at least I thought I was.”

He looked at her for a few moments. “I’m calling your dad.”

“What? Coach, come on.”

“No, Carrie. I need you in top shape and not spreading whatever you have in case it is something. I’m sorry.” He walked off to call her dad. She huffed.

A few of her teammates walked over to her.

“What’s going on?” Asher, their third baseman, asked.

“I think Williams is sending me home.”

“Lucky.”

“No, not lucky, Ash. I can’t afford to be away from here if I want to make it.”

“Can’t make it if you’re sick, CC. You might as well rest now and come back feeling better instead of running yourself down.” Jason commented. She threw him a dirty look.

“You know he’s right.”

She sighed. He was.

“Coach is coming back.” Everyone scattered.

“Alright, your dad said he’ll come and pick you up. In the meantime, get your gear off and settle down. I mean it, Carina. Not even stretching, just sit down.”

“I booked an appointment for you with Dr. Patel tomorrow at 11am, is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks dad.”

She went up the stairs with her duffel bag in tow. It was only 10, which meant Beckett would still be in class. Carrie decided to send him a text, asking him to give her a call when he was finished. She knew for this day his class wouldn’t finish until noon so it was a surprise to her when her phone lit up with a FaceTime notification not even thirty seconds after sending the text. Carrie hit the green ‘Accept’ button and laid down on her bed.

“My girl’s ditching practice? Scandalous.” Were the first words out of Beckett’s mouth.

“Fuck off, Beck. No I didn’t and I could say the same for you. Why aren’t you in class?”

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“I threw up and coach sent me home. What about you?”

“You threw up? Why? Did you eat something off?” Worry filled Beckett’s tone and his face.

“I’m fine. I think it’s just my period. Now why aren’t you in class?”

“Prof had a family emergency and had to cancel last minute so I am free until 2.” “Nice.”

Beckett caught Carrie up on his week. She watched as his face became animated while telling her the stories he’d kept in so he could tell her whenever they caught up. They hadn’t been able to talk face to face until now thanks to the exams Beckett had earlier in the week. The two of them missed each other fiercely.

“Oh, I got a notification that my package is getting delivered today.” Beckett mentioned. Carrie’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Package?”

“I sent you something. You’ll love it.”

“Hm. I better.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Beckett worked on his notes while Carrie browsed through her laptop. At some point, she looked back at her phone and found Beckett already looking at her with a heated expression on his face. It made her stomach flip.

“Don’t.” She warned.

“‘Don’t’ what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Uh huh. I know that look, Beck. My dad’s home and you have to leave for class.”

He groaned.

“I hate that you’re right.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah I do and you love me too.”

“Mhmm. Now get ready for class, I promise I’ll call you when I get home from work, okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

Carrie sat in the examination room with one leg crossed over the other. She had gone to this appointment by herself, as she had been doing since she was 16. Her parents would only accompany her if she asked. After about ten minutes of waiting, Dr. Patel strode in. Carrie sat up straight in her chair.

“Hi Carrie.” she greeted.

“Hi Dr. Patel.”

The doctor took her spot at her desk, placing her stethoscope in front of her. She took her time in logging into her computer and finding Carrie’s electronic chart.

“So what brings you in today?”

She listed off what she had been feeling, from the nausea and vomiting to the fatigue among other symptoms. Dr. Patel’s hands faltered over the keyboard for a quick second before she quickly resumed typing but the action hadn’t been missed by Carrie. The MD swung around in her chair, fully facing her.

“Are you sexually active?”

“Um, my first time was in the beginning of February.”

“Was it penetrative?”

Carrie nodded.

“Did you or your partner use any protection?”

She shook her head. “N-no. I mean he offered but- I- I’m on birth control.”

Dr. Patel turned back to her computer. The doctor went through the whole speech of the importance of safe sex practices but Carrie tuned her out. She couldn’t be pregnant, could she? There was no way. She couldn’t. It didn’t even occur to her that all the symptoms she was feeling were because she was pregnant. Carrie had plans, big plans, and now it felt like they were being washed down the drain thanks to her stupidity.

“Carrie.” Dr. Patel pulled her back into the conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Now we have to confirm that this is actually a pregnancy and the way we do that is with a urine sample.”

The doctor explained the process to her and handed her a little cup with an orange lid.

“I’ll ask Alanna to get you a water bottle.”

All Carrie could manage to do was nod. She sat back down in the waiting area with the sterile cup in her hand and water bottle in the other. Now or never, she thought and downed the water. It didn’t take her long before she found herself in a bathroom stall with the cup between her legs. She put on the lid and washed her hands and the bottle before returning it to one of the nurses. She sat back down and waited.

“Okay, Carrie…” Dr. Patel revealed the rectangular shaped test in her hands. It had two red lines on it. “Based on this test, it shows that you are pregnant.”

She wanted to cry. The lump in her throat grew. She looked at her doctor.

“Are you going to tell my dads?”

Dr. Patel gave her an apologetic smile and shook her head.

“Only if you want me to, but if you don’t, I can’t tell them anything. You’re of age, your health information stays private between you and I. If you want to tell them, which I believe you should do, by all means. But if you don’t want them to know, that’s fine too.”

“How- how long do I have before I make a decision?”

“Well based off of what you told me, you seem to be about a month along. There are- There are two methods you can decide between should you choose to terminate the pregnancy. If you want, you can think about what it is you want to do before we go further into this discussion.”

“No, I’d like to know now.”

“Are you sure, Carrie?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Patel then went into depth about her choices, making sure Carrie understood what she could possibly be getting herself into. Carrie found herself squeezing the fingers of one hand with the other to try and ground herself the more her doctor talked. Her head was all over the place.

“I suggest you talk about this with your parents, Carrie, before you make any big decisions. I want you to really think about it, okay?”

“I’m scared they’ll get mad at me,” she said quietly. Dr. Patel rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I know this is a major life situation for you but after knowing you guys for nearly a decade now, I’m sure your parents would be understandable.”

Carrie wasn’t so sure about that. Not in this situation, at least.

“Just… talk to them sooner rather than later. The earlier you make your decision, the better, whichever route you decide to go.”

“I understand, Dr. Patel. Thank you.”

She had someone she needed to tell before her dads.

Carrie was curled up in her computer chair with her phone up to her ear. She tried calling Beckett once but it went unanswered. So she was trying once again. The phone rang a few times before-

“Carrie! Hi.” Catherine’s voice greeted her on the other end.

“C-Catherine?” Carrie pulled the phone away from her ear, double checking if she had even called the right person to begin with. Beckett 🍪 stared back at her.

“Yes, it’s me. Beckett was in a rush leaving for class this morning and left his phone on the kitchen counter.”

“Of course he did.”

“Is there something you need?”

“Um, well…”

She could trust Catherine, right? She was basically family to Carrie, having known her her whole life. She could trust Catherine with this information.

“I, uh, I had a doctor’s appointment today.”

“Oh, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just… I found out I’m… pregnant.” She still didn’t believe it when it came out of her own mouth. There was silence on the other end. “Catherine?”

“Why does Beckett need to know?” Carrie clocked the immediate change in her tone of voice. She sat up straight in her chair, planting her feet on the hardwood. Carrie knew deep down she should’ve stopped talking right then and there but she couldn’t.

“Because it’s his.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pregnant with Beckett’s baby.”

“How did this happen?”

“The night before you guys left for Boston, that’s how.”

There was more silence on Catherine’s end.

“I can just call Beck later when he’s home-”

“You will do no such thing, Carina.”

It was Carrie’s turn to be surprised.

“Excuse me?”

“Sweetie, we just moved here. Michael’s started his job and Beckett’s just started school. He may not have been able to make Northeastern’s baseball team this year but things look promising for his junior year, Carrie. You know what I mean?”

“I don’t-”

“No, of course you don’t because you’ve been so focused on your goals that you haven’t paid attention to Beckett’s. He wants the same thing as you, Carrie.”

Carrie was shocked to say the least. Where did this sudden change in attitude come from? She had never known Catherine to be aggressive or abrasive. In all her 18 (almost 19) years on this earth, she had yet to even hear the woman yell. She thinks yelling would’ve been better than this condescending tone she was using on Carrie. She was so utterly confused; the whole conversation didn’t feel real.

“Catherine, I-”

“Don’t tell Beckett, okay? Whatever you choose, and I hope you choose correctly, you better leave him out of it.”

And the line went dead.

Carrie sat at her desk, unable to move. She didn’t know how long she stayed in that position for; it could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours. When she finally did move, she did so to do one thing. She blocked Beckett. On everything.

If his mom didn’t want him to know, he wasn’t going to. She was going to make sure of it.

Carrie didn’t tell her parents on the day of her appointment. Or the day after that. Or even the day after that one, for that matter. She kept her secret locked down inside of her so tightly that she barely said a word to her dads for a week. A week. They knew something was up. She knew that they knew something was up. They couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, enough of this.” Her papa said over breakfast. “What’s going on with you, Carina?”

She was halfway through cutting her pancakes. Her hands began to sweat over the knife and fork. Her heart raced inside her chest. When she looked up, she found both her dad and papa looking at her expectantly.

“What do you mean?” She was looking at them with wide eyes.

“That look on your face like you’re guilty of something and the fact that we haven’t had a proper conversation with you in a week.” Her dad answered. “That’s what we mean.”

No, this couldn’t be happening, she said inside her head.

Well it is, a voice answered.

I’m not ready.

You have to tell them. They can’t not know.

They were waiting for her to say something. Now or never.

Carrie put down her utensils and leaned back in her chair. She took a breath in and let it out.

“I’m pregnant.” She hadn’t said those words since she said them to Catherine the previous week. It still didn’t feel real.

She looked at them, they looked back. No one said a word.

“How did this happen?” her dad asked.

Carrie shook her head. Andrew’s eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean no, Carina?” He raised his voice. Her eyes went even wider. He pushed his chair back and stood up. Andrew paced behind her papa.

“We talked about this, did we not? That was the one thing we wanted you to take away from our talks! Use protection!” Carrie flinched at the sound of his yelling. She could feel the tears coming up to the surface of her eyes.

“I thought we’d be okay!”

Andrew shook his head this time, indignant. He put his hands on his hips.

“Who is it?”

“Who’s who?”

“I know you know what I’m asking, Carina. Don’t act dumb. Who’s the dad?”

Carrie shook her head again. No one was going to know.

“Carina!” he shouted.

That’s when she started crying. There was no stopping the tears from openly flowing down her cheeks. No matter how many times she wiped at her eyes, they just kept running down.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” she said through her hiccups. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew didn’t even respond to her. He left the room without another word.

By that point, Carrie didn’t try to stop her crying. She let them ake over her body. She felt her papa’s arms wrap around her. He stroked her hair as she cried, hushing her every now and again.

“Ssh, anak, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He rocked her back and forth. Severino kissed her hair. Before he knew it, he was crying too. “Thank you for telling us, I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”

Carrie nodded against him, her entire body hiccuping.

“I know, baby. I’ll go talk to daddy, okay? He’s just- he’s processing and he’s going to need some time.”

“He hates me.”

“Daddy doesn’t hate you, Carrie.”

“He’s mad at me.”

Severino didn’t have a response for that. Carrie pulled away from her papa. When he looked at her she looked every bit like the little girl that fell off the monkey bars when she was four and his 18 year old daughter all at once. It was heartbreaking to see her so hurt. Her eyes were swollen from all the crying. He brushed her hair away from her face and the tears from her cheeks. They were still coming but they had slowed down significantly.

“I’ll talk to your dad, okay?”

Carrie nodded.

Severino closed the door to Carrie’s room. After breakfast he had taken her to her room and helped her lie down on her bed. He asked her if she needed anything but she promised she was fine. He walked into the kitchen and found Andrew watching TV in the living room.

“Your daughter’s resting in her room.”

He got no response from his husband.

“I know you’re upset about this, Andrew, but she feels even worse. And you yelling at her doesn’t make it any better.”

Andrew picked up the remote and muted the TV. He sighed.

“She knows she made a mistake. You don’t have to remind her, I don’t have to remind her.”

Andrew joined Severino in the kitchen, tidying up the dining table. Severino began washing the dishes while he put away the clean ones in the drying rack.

“I just- How could she be so reckless? We have told her so many times how important it is to use protection and she just didn’t.”

“She got caught up in the moment, I guess.”

“Did she tell you who it was?” Andrew reached over and put a glass container on the shelf.

“No but she didn’t need to tell me.”

Andrew looked at Severino. His husband nodded.

“So yeah.”

“Does he know?”

“I’m not sure but seeing how she reacted when you asked her who the dad was I’m going to say yes and that he didn’t take it well. But I’m just going off what she’s told and shown us so far.”

“That doesn’t seem like Beckett, though. He worships the ground she walks on.”

“I know.”

They could only wonder.

Carrie avoided her dad for the rest of the day, even going so far as to make a plate for dinner before everyone else and eating it in her room. She also washed her plate in her bathroom so she wouldn’t run into him. She couldn’t face him. She couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment across his face.

Carrie thought she would be safe to bring down her plate from dinner at 2 AM. She also wanted to refill her water bottle. She was wrong. Her dad was leaning against the kitchen counter, stuffing his face with Ritz crackers. She stood in the doorway. He looked at her. She looked right back at him. Carrie was frozen where she stood. He put the box down on the counter, wiping the crumbs from his face.

“I wanted to put this away.” She lifted the plate dumbly. She quickly walked into the kitchen and put the plate back into its correct spot in the cabinet. She left as quickly as she came, or at least she wanted to until-

“Carrie, wait.”

She was almost past the doorway. She turned around.

“Yeah, dad?” She felt like crying again. He was going to yell at her again, she just knew it. She was scared.

“I’m sorry about earlier; for yelling at you, for how I reacted. I was surprised.”

“It’s- it’s okay, dad. I get it.”

Andrew noticed just how tightly she was holding herself. Her posture was rigid, arms stiff at her sides. She had her hands clenched into fists like she was waiting for a fight; like she was waiting for him to yell at her again.

“Oh, honey.”

He crossed the room and gathered her into his arms. Carrie broke down. She cried into her dad’s chest. He ran his hands up and down her back.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Ssh, baby. It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

They stood in the kitchen while Andrew held her tight.

Carrie was seated in Dr. Patel’s office once again, this time with her papa sat to her right and her dad standing next to her on her left. Her knee couldn’t stop bouncing.

“Carina,” her papa chided gently.

“Sorry.” She stopped and crossed one leg over the other. He took her hand into his and held it.

The past week had been filled with different conversations between the three of them and some just between Andrew and Severino. They also had to bring in Coach Williams into the conversations as well. The outcome of that one had been surprising for all of them.

(The family of three stared back at the man behind the wooden desk. They were expecting yelling, maybe some angry pacing, frustration. But not this. The man that Carina had known for a good chunk of her teenage years was smiling at her. He rarely smiled.

“Congratulations, Carrie, truly.” He said earnestly.

“Thank you?” She had all these outcomes in her head on how this meeting could have gone. This wasn’t one of them.

“I’m sorry- you’re happy for me?”

“Of course.”

“I just-” she shook her head. She couldn’t even explain herself. Coach Williams waited a few moments before speaking.

“My son was no more than a year older than you when he got his university girlfriend pregnant. I was angry and upset. Wondered how he could be so stupid. I’m sure your fathers can relate.” He looked to them both and they nodded. “My first thought was for them to get rid of the baby. It was harsh, I know. But it seemed reasonable at the time. They were so young and had their whole lives ahead of them. But they were determined to have this baby and still have the lives that they dreamed of for themselves.”

“Did they?”

He nodded, another smile making its way to his face. He turned a couple picture frames around so it would face the three of them. Carrie saw a picture of Coach Williams’ son and who she assumed was the aforementioned girlfriend holding a baby boy. The other was of a boy, no more than five years old, running towards the photographer.

“Ben and Hailey aren’t together anymore but they make it work. I thank my lucky stars that they chose to keep the baby.”

Carrie held the picture of the little boy in her hands. She wiped her eyes.

“But your plans for me-”

“Are still the plans if that’s what you want. We might have to delay them but I am determined to get you playing in the major leagues. Just give me the word.”

Carrie looked to each of her parents, then at her coach. She took a deep breath in.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”)

There was a gentle knock on the door. Dr. Patel poked her head in before fully appearing. She greeted them all.

“So, Carrie, I see you’ve brought your dads with you.” She smiled. “Have you come to a decision?”

“Yeah, I have.” She squeezed her papa’s hand. “I wanted to keep the baby.”

Dr. Patel nodded along. “Okay.”

She logged into her computer.

“I will get you connected with our office’s OBGYN, Dr. Miller. I think you’ll like her very much. I believe she’s booked up for today, but I’ll send her a message to see if she can see you tomorrow for your first appointment. It will be a lengthy one, just to let you know, since it is your first and we are playing a little bit of catch up. But I’m not too worried.”

A little blip sound came from the computer’s speakers.

“Alright…” Dr. Patel’s eyes scanned the screen. “She said she has a spot open at the end of her day at 3. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah.”

She sent off the response back.

“Okay, perfect. 3 o’clock tomorrow with Dr. Miller.”

“Thank you.”

She was doing this.

#tricia writes #hope yall like it #dbl #writing #my writing

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morgana-ren · 3 years

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SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom?

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that.

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then?

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track.

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him.

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves.

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up.

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right.

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins.

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move?

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t.

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

‘Maybe I will.’

That’s how it starts.

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties.

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper.

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils.

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now.

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties.

“Shit-”

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-” He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you. “Yeah- yeah, sure.”

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.”

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

#nsft #shigaraki smut #see warnings #no mommy kink i am sorry #lots of gross shit for you tho #which I assume you want cause you came to me of all people #see the warning list up top for full disclosure

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let-me-luve-you · 3 years

Text

Cancer Battle

Tom Holland x Sister (with the whole Holland clan)

Summary: The reader is diagnosed with cancer, but decides to keep it from her brothers.

Warnings: angst, cancer treatment, cancer diagnosis, brothers being rude, somewhat of a fluff ending

A/N: I did research on this. I hope I did the correct research. So I apologize if I’m wrong.

MASTERLIST

This has been the toughest two months of your life. Right when you were due to go over to America with your brothers to visit Tom, you noticed swelling in your neck. So did your mum. She set you up a doctors appointment, and two days later, you found out you had Hodgkin Lymphoma.

After talking with your doctor, you found you were in the early stages. It was still treatable and your chances of beating the cancer were very high. That helped you relax a little, but you were still in shock at hearing the words, “you have cancer.”

You wanted to start treatment right away so you told your brothers to go without you. They weren’t happy with you since you wouldn’t give them the real reason as to why you were staying behind. Every Wednesday morning for the next month, you would go with your mum or dad to the doctors office to do your antibody therapy treatment. You really didn’t want to do chemo or radiation unless it got worse, so you decided this was the next best option.

After four weeks of treatment, all of your brothers came home. Tom was disappointed you didn’t come see him, but he knew you probably had a good reason. He decided to come over to your parents house to hangout with you today. Except today wasn’t a good day. You were sick due to the side effects of the treatment. To those who didn’t know about your treatment, they would just think you had the flu. So when you walked back into your room from the bathroom, you groaned when you saw Tom sitting on the end of your bed.

“Good to see you too, Y/N.” Tom said with an eye roll.

“Hi Tom. Sorry. You might want to leave, I’m sick.” You said trying to keep your distance but you were wanting to lie down so bad.

“Mum told me. Can I get you anything?” He asked sweetly.

“I’m okay for now. Dad went to the store this morning.” You replied and motioned with your finger for him to move. He understood and moved toward your door as you went to lie down. You sighed, content when your body hit the mattress.

“I’m going to go downstairs. Text me if you need anything.” You smiled at him. “Get better soon.”

The next few days, you started feeling better. This is how it was every week. Stuck in bed on Thursday and Friday. Moving around more on Saturday and fully back to your normal self on Sunday. Then you would repeat the process again.

This Wednesday though, you weren’t feeling good. It felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. You had a fever and you could tell you had lost at least twenty pounds since your diagnosis. You got up earlier than normal to talk to your mum. When you walked into the living room, you found all four brothers.

“Hey Y/N. You okay?” Sam asked.

Ignoring his question, you looked around the room. “Where’s mum and dad?”

“Dad has a meeting at ten and mum ran to the store really quick. Said she would be back soon.” Paddy said not looking up from his phone. You nodded and turned to go back to your room to lay down until you had to go to your appointment.

“It’s a good thing you're up though. I have a press tour coming up and we are going to Bali. The three of them are going and I wanted to see if you wanted to come. You didn’t get to go last time so I thought you would enjoy it.” Tom said.

“I would but uh..” You looked around trying to think of an excuse as to why you can’t go. “I’m still getting over this sickness. Wouldn’t be good for me to go.”

“Well good thing it isn’t until next month then.” Harry said with a laugh before he turned serious. “Why are you always bailing on us? You missed the last Bali trip. You skipped last minute to go to America. Now you’re trying to get out of going to Bali again. What’s up with that?”

“I just have a lot going on. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.” You said.

“Harry has a point though Y/N. It’s like you don’t like us or something. You never go out with us when we are in town either and you won’t let us post photos of you.” Paddy said.

You stood shocked. You didn’t know how to respond, but it didn’t matter since it didn’t seem that your brothers were done.

“Can you tell us if we did something to you so we can fix it?” Tom said trying to be the nice brother like always.

“Come on mate. We didn’t do anything and she knows it. She just hates us.” Harry said with a snarl.

“Must be embarrassed by us. I don’t know why. People love us.” Paddy said. Sam agreed with Paddy and Harry. Tom just didn’t know what to do so he just stayed quiet. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he did feel rejected by you lately.

“I love you guys and I would never be embarrassed of you. I just have a lot going on.” You said. You were getting worked up and it was making it harder to breathe. You turned and started to leave the room. “Tell mum to come to my room when she gets home.” You started to walk up the stairs and ignored the hateful comments your brothers were whispering about you.

An hour later. Your mum came into the room and saw you laying there asleep. She went to push your hair out of your face and felt how hot you were. She immediately started to panic and tried to wake you up. Thankfully you opened your eyes halfway and saw your mum.

“Mum, somethings not right. I don’t feel good.” You whispered.

“Get up honey. We are going to the doctor.” Nikki said in a rush. She went to help you stand when you fell on the ground. Nikki was worried because you couldn’t hold yourself up. “DOM!” She yelled. “DOM HURRY UP! COME HERE!”

Tom thought he heard his mum call for him and he heard the worry in her voice so he sprinted to where he heard her trying to talk to Y/N. He was shocked when he saw you on the floor.

“Tom I need your help. We have to get her to the hospital now. Help me get her to the car.” Nikki said. Tom stayed staring at your almost lifeless body “TOM!” Nikki snapped to get his attention. Tom immediately went into protective brother mode and ran to you and easily picked you up bridal style and carried you down to Nikki’s car. He laid you in the backseat and then he joined you by putting your head into his lap. Nikki ran to the driver's seat and rushed to the hospital.

“Mum, what’s wrong with her?” He asked.

“I’m not sure.” Nikki answered honestly. If it hadn't been for the swollen glands, Nikki would have thought you were healthy as a horse. Now with the treatments, it always pained her to see her only daughter struggling with the illness. Once they got to the emergency room, Nikki started telling the ER doctor everything. Tom paled when he heard the word cancer. He looked up at his mum to see if what she said was true. When the doctors took you in the back to run test, Nikki finally turned to her oldest and saw him shaking.

“Cancer?” He whispered. If Nikki hadn’t been standing so close, she wouldn’t have heard him. She gently wrapped an arm around Tom and guided him to sit in a chair. Tom stayed latched to his mum as he cried for his little sister. “Wha- how- when? When did she find out?” Tom asked many minutes later once he stopped crying.

“Before the America trip.” Nikki said. “She’s been doing treatments once a week since. The treatments make her sick. That’s why you found her like she was last Thursday.”

“I had no idea.” Tom said more to himself. “That’s why she didn’t want to go to Bali.”

“Yeah. She wants to stay home until the cancer’s gone. She has a high survival rate, Tom. She didn’t want any of you to worry. That’s why she didn’t tell you.”

As Tom went to say something a doctor interrupted. “Mrs. Holland, Y/N is in a room now. You can go sit with her while we wait for the results. Since Dr. Hammon is the one treating her, she will be here to overlook her during her stay.” Nikki nodded and grabbed Tom’s hand. They followed the doctor to Y/n's room where she looked so tiny on her bed. She had an IV in and was sleeping soundly.

“We gave her some medicine to bring her fever down. She should wake up soon.”

“Thank you doctor.” Nikki said as he walked away. She turned to Tom, “I’m going to go call your father. Sit with her please.”

“Of course.” Tom said before grabbing your hand and sitting in the chair next to your bed. Tom grabbed his phone with his other hand. He quickly added Harry, Sam, and Paddy to a group text.

T: Hospital. Room 135. Waiting on the results for Y/N. We need to talk.

H: WTF?! Is she okay? Is that where you went. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

T: Yeah. Had to help mum. Just hurry. She should have everyone here for her.

S: Called into work and got the day off. Will be there soon.

P: Harry and I are on our way too. Be there shortly.

By the time all the brothers arrived, Dom was walking into the room as well. Nikki had already spoken with Dr. Hammon and got the news of why Y/N reacted that way. Nikki decided now was the time to tell everyone the severity of it.

“Okay guys. Y/N wanted to keep this a secret, but I no longer can. She has Hodgkin Lymphoma. Her and I noticed swelling in her neck before she was going to the states so I took her to the doctor. She was diagnosed a couple days later. That’s why she didn’t go with you boys on the trip. She’s been undergoing treatment every week to help kill the cancer.” Nikki said looking at all of her sons. “I just talked with the doctor. The bad news is she doesn’t think the antibody therapy is working. She thinks it would be best to try chemotherapy next so the cancer doesn’t spread. The good news is, the cancer hasn’t spread.”

Dom visibly relaxed at hearing that news. He was thankful you were as okay as you could be. “Did she say why she reacted this way. Why did she almost pass out?” Dom asked.

“She said her body was working in overdrive to kill the cancer cells. Her fever got too high. Now that her fever is down, she’ll be back to her old self.”

“Old self?” Tom scoffed. “Mum she’s been sick more times than she’s been feeling okay. There’s no old self in that.”

“This is her new normal for a bit. Until she defeats the cancer, this is her old self.” Nikki responded.

You groaned and tried to open your eyes. Nikki and Dom rushed to one side as Tom rushed to your other. Tom ran his hand over your head. You turned and slowly opened your eyes and met Tom’s brown ones.

“What happened? Where am I?” You asked, confused.

“Your fever got too high. Me and mum rushed you here. You’re okay now.” Tom said. You turned to see your mum next to you with your dad.

“They know sweety.” She said. You closed your eyes for a second and turned to look at Tom again.

“I’m sorry for keeping this from you.” You said.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re okay now. And I’ll be here every step of the way to help you fight.” He kissed your forehead. The rest of your brothers came up to you.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N for saying you hated us.” Harry said.

“I’m sorry too.” Sam said.

“I’m sorry as well.” Paddy said.

“It’s okay you guys. I’m sorry for not telling you. Just didn’t want you to worry. You guys have a lot going on in your life. Didn’t need to add this to the list of things you were stressing over.”

“We will always worry about you, healthy or not. You’re my baby sister. I never want you to think you have to go through something like this alone.” Tom said.

“I’ll sit with you at treatments.” Harry said.

“I’ll hangout with you when you don’t feel well at home.” Paddy said.

“I’ll make all of your favorites and I’ll make you soup.” Sam said.

You smiled at your brothers and thanked them. You were glad you had such an amazing support group to back you in this fight.

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #brother!tom holland #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland sister #tom holland x sister #tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland x holland!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #holland!sister #holland!reader #tom holland rpf #y/n holland #tom holland angst #tom holland one shot #tom holland au

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

Nobody's Perfect (part8)

Warnings - injury / surgery / smut

Also - I have zero medical training so if I've got something wrong, please let me know!!

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers

You arrived at the hospital with Cillian's parents and a nurse ushered you into a private room. Sitting the three of you down, she took a deep breath, making you nervous.

"He had a seizure around an hour ago. He's been taken down for surgery again, we'll know more afterwards. It looks like a ruptured spleen, it could have been a stray fragment of glass or the sheer blunt force of the stabbing, we can't tell just yet. It's a significant bleed into his abdominal cavity, Mrs Murphy we need to perform a blood transfusion." His mum started to cry, his Dad holding her. You just felt sick.

"How long before he's out of surgery? Will he be okay?" You asked, shakily.

"We don't know yet. Once he's out of surgery we'll know more, but for now.. it could go either way. I'm so sorry..." You took the nurses hand and squeezed it, thanking her. You could see her welling up a little too.

It had been hours. How many, you didn't know but the sun was up before you knew any more. You were waiting in the hallway on the phone to your mum when the double doors behind you opened. You saw the trolley being pushed through, with nurses either side, and a body covered in wires and tubes. You choked when you saw his Peaky haircut under it all.

"Mum he's back from surgery.. I'll call you later okay? Love you.."

You desperately wanted to follow him into the room but you held back, instead going into where his mum and dad were waiting. It was then, you burst into tears. His Dad stood and wrapped his arms round you.

"Stop trying to be strong in front of us y/n..."

"This is all my fault... All of it..." His dad squeezed you tight and shook his head.

"I'll hear no more of that, understood?" He was stern, but still gentle with it. The doctor came into the room.

"He's okay for now. We've sedated him to allow his body to recover. His spleen ruptured and bled out into his abdominal cavity. Luckily we've managed to stop the bleeding and save his spleen. He's had a significant blood loss, so we've given him a transfusion. He'll be out of it for a few hours, but you're welcome to come see him." The three of you walked through the doors into his room and his mum was beside herself.

She took his hand, careful of the cannula, and held it. His dad squeezed his eldest son's shoulder. You stood at the foot of the bed, watching the love of your life lie still, wires in him, a mask over his face, machines beeping everywhere, a massive bandage around his middle.

"I'll call his sisters and brother.. let them know what happened?" You asked his mum, before his dad turned to you and shook his head. You felt useless, you needed to be doing something.

"No, I'll call them. You stay here with him. Talk to him - he can hear you."

"How do you know?"

"He's squeezed my hand a couple of times. He knows we're here. Just too tired to wake up yet."

He left the room to make the calls, and you took his hand, kissing his head lightly. His dad was right, he squeezed your hand a little.

"Hey you... You trying to scare me away again? No chance Murphy, I'm not going anywhere." Another gentle squeeze.

You knew he wouldn't wake up for a while, but you were happy to wait, just talking to him. Even the Peaky cast had sent video messages so you could play them to him.

You were dozing in the chair, exhausted from no sleep for what felt like days, when he woke up.

"Y/n...." You'd never woken up so quickly. Instantly you were by his side and you pressed the button for a nurse.

"Right here, I'm right here. It's okay.."

"Did I get hit by a truck?" He smiled. The nurse came in and removed the mask from his face. Checking over everything as you stood back. Once she'd finished, you took your phone out to call his parents. They'd headed home to feed the dogs and get some sleep. Hanging up, you kissed his lips gently.

"Stop trying to scare me away Murphy..."

"I'm getting out of here and you and I are going away. Somewhere just us, yeah?" You nodded, unable to form words. Your tears slipping down your cheeks as he brushed them away with his hand, his own eyes watering a little.

*************************************************************

He was in hospital for a week recovering, then another week at his mum's being fussed over and interviewed by police about the stabbing. You were now at his holiday home in Kerry, a full month after Silé's wedding, relaxing on the patio in the warm July sunshine. You'd arrived a week earlier, and had no plans to leave any time soon. Your family had even sent get well cards and gifts through the post for him, even though they hadn't even met him yet.

You got off the phone to Orla as Cillian came outside. Still limping a little but getting stronger every day. The sea air definitely helping.

"Liane's been charged. Attempted murder, Cill."

"She came very fucking close y/n."

You watched him sit in the lounger next to you and he took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning back.

"The press are going wild. They've found out everything - Liane having Mark's baby, the stabbing, and us. They're desperate for a statement, my agent keeps calling me."

"They can wait. I'm alive, that's all they need to know. The rest of it isn't important. Come here.." he pulled you to sit across his legs. You hesitated before you sat down but he nodded and you relaxed a little. You could feel his erection under your shorts and he pulled you closer to kiss him.

"How long has it been?"

"Long enough... You sure you're okay?"

"Shut up y/l/n and ride me..." You didn't need any further encouragement, and your shorts were off followed by his, discarded on the floor next to you. His hard cock, already leaking, sprung up against his stomach, the scar across it already healing well.

"No one can see us out here, right?" You asked, suddenly remembering your neighbours.

"I don't care if they can.." you lifted your body over his and sunk down on him easily - you'd been aching for him for a month, hesitant to initiate anything in case you hurt him, but he'd clearly been aching for you too, his hands on your hips moving you up and down his shaft.

"Fuck... I missed this...." He groaned, finding your lips with his before you leaned back and rocked against him slowly.

He found your clit with his thumb and rubbed circles over it, making you squirm against him and grind quicker. This wasn't going to last long, both of you knew it, he needed you to come and quickly. He brought your hand down to rub yourself as his hands rested on your waist again, rocking you faster against him. He wanted desperately to pound up into you but the discomfort in his stomach stopped him, allowing you to take the lead.

"I'm close..." You whimpered, a powerful orgasm building in your stomach, before throwing your head back and panting his name as you came over him.

"I'm gonna come... Y/n...." His release quickly followed, hot streams of cum flowing into you in bursts, leaking out onto his thighs. You rested your head on his, both catching your breath.

"When did you stop taking the pill?" He asked.

"Two weeks ago..."

"That did it, I've got a good feeling."

"Quite possibly Mr Murphy..."

"You sure you want this? It's not too soon?"

"I think we've gone well past the 'too soon' part of our relationship, don't you think?" You laughed.

"Very true. You're going to look incredible with my baby inside you..." His hands found your belly and he rubbed it gently, making your heart flutter.

"Love you..."

"Love you more."

********************************************************

Six months later

"I'm sorry, Mr Murphy, the chances of you conceiving naturally are extremely low." The doctors words cut him like a knife. His head fell back and he unclasped your hand to run it over his face. You both knew there was a potential problem - after all, he'd be been trying for a baby with Liane for years without any success, so there was always the possibility he would struggle with you too. He didn't want to wait a year to find out, so he'd paid for a private sperm count test.

"We do have a few options here though," the doctor spoke again. Cillian looked to you, you nodded in return.

"Cill, it's okay. We prepared for this, didn't we?" You took his hand again and looked back at the doctor.

"We have IVF, as many rounds as you need. I have leaflets on how it'll all work right here." Cillian took the leaflets and shook the doctors hand, before walking out of the room. You apologised and thanked the doctor before chasing Cillian down the hall.

"Stop, for god's sake!" You shouted, making him pause and turn to you.

"It's one thing thinking there's a problem y/n, it's something else entirely to have it confirmed..." He leaned against the wall and looked at the IVF leaflets. "What if it doesn't work?"

"We have to at least try, don't we?" You took his face in your hands and pulled him in to kiss him. "We'll make a father out of you yet, Cillian Murphy."

#cillian smut #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader

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css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go!

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!!

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result.

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different?

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner.

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally.

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would.

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again.

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet.

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive.

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true.

------------

A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant.

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise.

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside.

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?”

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his.

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch.

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand.

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs.

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips.

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband.

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch.

“You alright?” He spoke.

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad.

-----------

You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey.

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad.

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him.

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks.

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still.

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned.

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate.

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention.

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you.

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.”

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him.

--------

Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up.

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming. If you’re wondering what the next note consists of, When you get to the rink, check your right glove.

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said.

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility.

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it.

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do. You’re probably wondering why everyone is late, Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced.

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun. If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him.

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag.

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best. Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench.

He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids.

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you.

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you.

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him.

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby.

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?”

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face.

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him.

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car.

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?”

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car.

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise.

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas.

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus.

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard.

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal.

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea.

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him.

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many.

#bye i love that gif #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

305 notes · View notes

haechanhues · 3 years

Text

pairing : enhypen x reader (mostly platonic but can be open romantically)

genre : friendship tingz (is that a genre?) social media. bullet points.

warnings : swearing a bit and slightest mention of sex like once or twice. some are longer than others.

summary : these are your friends. cherish em. love em. pick on them. make connections.

Not too long before ENHYPEN’s new comeback, are you all excited?

Back

HEESEUNG

You met Heeseung when you were younger - he was playing with three lizard toys and you had wanted the pink one and so, being the nice kid he was, gave you the green one instead

Has been your best friend ever since

You once stepped on a broken glass bottle and he cried more than you did

When you were waiting for your dad one afternoon after school (your dad was always ridiculously late) you both made a long handshake that you couldn’t remember the next day

You’ve caught him trying to act cute multiple times by making eye contact in the mirror and he yelled at you for judging him

‘STOP LAUGHING AT ME’

‘YOU’RE SO MEAN TO ME’

Ramyeon addict

Everywhere you two go

There’s ramyeon in his bag

You’ve kissed each other a couple of times

Never done it again

Thought about it once, and then fed yourself and that thought disappeared

You’ve had some stupid fights

eg who has to pick up the rubbish on the ground

peanuts

Serious fights

Past partners and their boundaries

Why you ate his leftover ramyeon he was saving for a ‘special occasion’ that special occasion being Friday night

SUNOO

When you became friends, Heeseung was jealous of him and thought Sunoo was trying to take his best friend away from him

Twitter demon

Sweeter in person

Sometimes

Always running around and trying to sell you off

‘Do you know of a Y/N Y/L/N? Well you’re absolutely lucky because she’s absolutely single, hit her up’

‘HER NUMBER IS 555-’

Got you two both cute matching character PJs

You both co-own a Tik Tok account

Well

Actually

too be honest you’re just a featuring act at this point

One time you were sick for a week and he had made a video on all the stuff you missed out on

Because he gets sick often, you buy him a lot of thick blankets, clothes and always get him jackets because you’re worried he’d get sick

Literally the bane of your existence on Twitter

Seriously

He gets away with it though and he knows he will (him and Niki)

NIKI

The other boys get jealous of how nice you are to him

Comes to you for daily cuddles

Sometimes doesn’t get it

The baby knows how to guilt trip you

But when you want cuddles, he’s suddenly too cool for you

Teaches you swear words in Japanese to say to Jay and the other boys

Uses your email when he thinks it’s spam or for his own orders so you had to make another email

People always ask if he’s your little brother

You’ll both be bored one day and sit side by side on the floor

He’d offer his airpod for you to listen and you’d both be red in the face trying not to giggle at try not to laugh videos you two are always watching

Both go to the movies together

You’re paying

He always gets the biggest size even though he can’t finish it

‘It’s a popcorn party’

Always throws the leftovers on Jay or Sunoo

Whatever he wants, he gets.

You’re his best friend. No shit you are. He loves you. He really does.

JAKE

Always squeezing his cheekies

Your girl friends always ship the two of you together (NO)

They saw him in the background of your video call

You take a lot of photos together

A Yes-Man when it comes to your ideas and is literally the hype man you want

Always

Lost a bet to him and so he signed you up for a soccer tournament where you’re not exactly good but you’re decent

You do a lot of planning together but you don’t really execute it unless Jungwon, Heeseung or Jay are involved

Tend to bump into each other when you walk side by side

Heeseung refers to you both as Thomson and Thompson from Tin Tin because you’re both really smart

But he makes you act dumb

And he reassures you a lot

Got you waxing strips because you wanted to try it and accidentally got it stuck on the hair of the back of your neck and so, being the nice boy he is, did it to himself

His eyes watered :(

But it was funny :)

Always bringing you out into the world more so you don’t cramp up inside

JUNGWON

He’s a little mean to you - all in good fun of course

You go to him for advice about this boy or girl you’re talking to

Don’t tell him but you love talking to him

About his day

Ideas for a new movie

About this new boy/girl you’re talking to

Sometimes you feel distant from him in comparison to the other boys

You always go for little walks with him every now and then

One time he grew out his hair purely so you could play with it

In his sleep you drew cat whiskers on him with eyeliner

When you moved into your own apartment, he was the only one that could help out and collapsed on your bed and stayed the night with you

Again : people asked if you were dating

Once again : No

Should really write a FAQ and just staple it to your forehead

When the washing machine is full at yours, you both take your washing to a laundromat and chat away - you get pizza delivered to the laundromat and scoff it down so the others don’t catch you out - you both turn to each other to wipe the crumbs off and spray perfume on your clothes - for the memory box he writes it down on the receipt

Always full of laughs

Never a dull moment

Can just chill together or do something mischievous and fun

JAY

Accidentally confessed that you’d f*ck him if you were the last people alive on Earth and he’s never let you live it down

Made a collage of all the photos you have on your phone and others and his mother wanted her own copy to hang in her living room

‘Can you wear this?’

‘Oooh’

‘GUESS WHAT’

Always trying to style you when you go shopping because your fashion sense isn’t up to par apparently

You always catch him taking selfies and always clown him

Argued about the shape of an elephant nose once

Cried

Said your apologies with snot running down your noses

When you made up and came out of the room, Heeseung and Jungwon mimicked elephant noises

Spams you with celebrities that pop up in his feed that he knows you like

You don’t like to talk about it but once when you were doing a speech assignment, you had to hold his hand to refrain from crying and he rubbed his thumb over the back of your knuckle and didn’t let go until class had ended and you were more relaxed

Although you kind of sort of like to make fun of him

He’s always the first one to look after you if you needed someone

The type to message you if you were doing okay

Can’t look at you when you’re crying so awkwardly has to angle his head the other way and comfort you without looking

SUNGHOON

A lot of past

At first you both had crushes on each other (he was the last to join your friendship group, tall, handsome, really kind, always wanted to make him smile)

Considered the Dark Ages

Jungwon likes to rehash the memory every now and then when your guard is down

For your birthday he gifted you a stool so you can ‘grow’

That ruffled your feathers

Always the one to make short jokes when in your opinion you’re not even that short

Tried to teach you how to ice skate but was slightly disappointed you knew how to stay upright

Girls tend to give you their numbers and little notes made for Sunghoon because they’re too shy

He’s super comfortable with you. You always make sure he’s included and make sure his voice is heard and he’s not being taken for granted.

You checked him out once and he caught you.

‘You’re blushing.’

‘I’VE STILL GOT IT’

Jungwon laughed cause he sees and knows everything

Silently protective of you - one time a guy tried to ask you out and he laughed like

ha ha ha

until he left

tells everyone it’s your birthday on the wrong date so you’re getting your birthday wishes a month earlier.

also gets the freebies because apparently it’s your anniversary every other thursday.

‘JUST DATE ALREADY’

129 notes · View notes

psychdelia · 3 years

Text

season 3 but instead of billy, neil was flayed.

he had been acting... off the last couple of weeks. distant and withdrawn, completely the opposite of how he usually is with billy.

he first notices the difference in behavior when the abuse stops. maybe he gets home late for dinner and instead of the usual stern look he gets before a smack when max and susan go to bed, neil just smiles all big and wide, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before he welcomes his son home.

then neil starts coming home later and later, giving susan some bullshit excuse about work and overtime and she eats it right up. chooses to believe that he’s somehow morphed into the perfect husband and father overnight. on top of that, he smells like bleach and chemicals and his eyes seem so dead. billy can tell what the guy is thinking or feeling through one look at his expression, but now he’s just eerily blank.

so billy follows him on 4th of july, surprised to find himself in the starcourt parking lot for the second time that day - he dropped max off earlier to hang out with her shithead friends, but it’s past closing hours so she shouldn’t still be inside unless she’s at the movies, the only part of the mall that remains open late. he watches as neil marches into the mall, fists clenched at his side. billy has no idea why neil is even at the mall so late when he should be at work or wherever he’s been going and lying to susan about. so, he follows him in.

he doesn’t know what to expect, but seeing his little sister and her gaggle of friends screaming as neil gets closer and closer to them. squinting, billy can see black veins crawling their way up neil’s neck, discoloring his face and eyes. he jumps when he hears the first bang, the sound of a firework exploding way too close for comfort.

then he spots it. the huge slimey alien being that screeches when the first firework hits it, then second, third, and so on.

and like. what the fuck.

his eyes must be as wide as saucers as he stares at the thing, gangly and screeching with every hit, trying to swing at anyone it can reach. he doesn’t have time to process what the actual fuck he’s looking at when he hears someone yell his name. max.

“billy! BILLY!” she screams, absolutely terrified. “DO SOMETHING!” she demands.

immediately, his eyes search for fireworks. looking up, he finds harrington on the second floor in matching work uniforms with a girl - buckley, his brain distantly provides. they had the same ap literature class. the fireworks get louder and louder along with the monster. he eventually finds a small kiosk set up for the 4th, so he follows suit and grabs his lighter, blindly throwing at the monster as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. his father approaching a girl around max’s age with a maniacal expression on his face, eyes about to burst out of his goddamn head. he hears the kids screaming in protest to no avail. pretty soon, they run out of fireworks and his dad’s got this girl beneath him on the floor.

he’s about to intervene when the girl lets out this piercing scream, almost louder than the shadow, and suddenly his father is thrown up in the air then launched right at the monster. he’s caught mid-air by a tentacle - wait a goddamn second are those human body parts??? and teeth????? - right in the center of his chest. billy flinches, watching in horror as his father screams in pain before he’s dropped onto the floor, head smacking the tile before he goes limp.

it feels like the world goes still for a second, everyone standing still, eyes wide and mouths open in shock at the scene before them. distantly, he hears the monster screeching, but his eyes are locked on his father’s body - torn open and bleeding out. what eventually brings them all out of their stupor and back to the real world is the same girl standing and screaming at the monster, merely feet away from the thing. her hand is shaking in the air, nose dripping with blood as the monster’s screeches grow quieter, its body shrinking. soon enough, it hits the ground just like his father. limp and silent.

billy just watches the scene unfold, his mind racing yet completely blank. he knows he should move, grab as many little shits as he can and run, but he’s stock still, unable to process what he just witnessed. ironically, it ends up being the kids who run to him first.

“billy,” max calls as she reaches him. “billy!” she grabs his shoulders, shaking him until he acknowledges her. “billy we have to go. now! come on billy let’s go!” her hands are shaking as she grips his shoulders.

he blinks a couple of times before he nods once, then again.

“shit!” he hears harrington yell, footsteps approaching them as the two teenagers run down from the top floor right before it comes crashing to the ground. soon enough, the mall is falling apart, the ceiling caving in.

billy finally kicks into action, wild eyes and expressions matching everyone else’s as the teens drag the kids out of there, the group sprinting outside in time to watch the mall crumble to the ground with his dad’s body trapped in it.

he doesn’t know how much time has gone by when ambulances, fire trucks and police cars appear. he’s stuck in place as parents reunite with their children while paramedics check on everyone, wrapping heavy blankets around them. billy manages to sneak off to the side, hiding behind an ambulance. he spots max with sinclair and susan, harrington with buckley, girl and boy wheeler close to the three byers, accompanied by the police chief.

billy’s alone, he realizes. he looks back at the mall, now in flames and taking his father down with it. his hands and legs begin to tremble and he’s sliding down the side of the ambulance, unable to breathe as he hits the floor. hugging his knees to his chest and holding his head low, he takes in short breaths and ends up wheezing, unable to get enough air into his lungs. he doesn’t realize he’s crying until his vision is blurred and cheeks are wet. he’s hyperventilating and is pretty sure he’s about to black out.

billy’s alone.

everyone here has someone and he doesn’t.

his mother left and now his father is gone and he doesn’t, can’t understand why. yeah, neil was abusive and cruel but he was all billy had left. he lost his friends, the ocean, his life the second neil ripped him away from california and dragged him to a state where he knew he’d get hurt if neil caught him with a boy again like in cali, except this time he knew it wouldn’t be just neil pounding on him for his “sickness.”

billy misses his mom. wants nothing more than to be held and comforted by her. to hear her soft voice as she sings or hums or shushes him as she rubs his back and plays with his hair and kisses his head and tells him everything’s going to be alright.

except everything’s not going to be alright and now he’s sobbing silently, soft whimpers and harsh wheezing being the only noise leaving his body.

with the rest of the world tuned out and only hearing his own choked sobs and sharp breaths, he flinches when he feels the hand on his shoulder, trying to scramble away from it.

“hey,” the soft voice says. “its okay. hey, kid, it’s okay. it’s just me.” she immediately pulls her hand away, holding both up to prove herself as unthreatening. “just me.” she repeats gently.

billy slowly raises his head, eyes and cheeks red and blotchy and puffy and wet. he finds exhausted, sad brown eyes looking over him.

“oh, kiddo, you look like you’ve seen hell.” she sounds motherly. “c’mon, breathe with me. take deep breaths, okay? count with me.” she encourages as she kneels down to his level. “deep breaths. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, breathe. in and out, just like that. you’re doing good.”

pretty soon, his wheezes and rushed breaths even out. he takes his first deep breath of fresh air, releasing a shaky relieved sigh.

“you must be billy, max’s brother. i’m joyce, jonathan’s mom.” she introduces, except neither of them are in the mood for small talk. “i, uh,” she sighs. “there’s a lot we all have to talk to you about,” she sits down beside him. “but that can wait,” she assures. “until you’re ready.” she adds on quietly.

he stares at her a couple seconds before he breaks again, a strangled loud sob ripping its way through his chest and out of his mouth. he doesn’t even think about it before he launches himself at her, fully prepared to cry to this woman he’s barely met yet spent hours knocked out cold on her ground only after breaking one of her nice plates.

she - joyce - seems to have the same idea because as soon as he starts crying again she’s opening her arms and reaching for him. they meet halfway in the middle.

“it’s not fair.” billy chokes out, trembling in joyce’s surprisingly strong arms as she holds him upright. “it’s not fair.” he repeats, louder yet more broken.

“i know, sweetheart.” she nods, rubbing circles on his back with one hand, the other gently running through his hair. “god i know.” she sighs and, poor woman, it sounds like she’s been through it. he vaguely remembers hearing about her sons - zombie boy and creepy byers. his brain isn’t processing enough to connect any dots just yet.

“she-she just left,” he holds onto joyce tightly. “she left and now he’s gone.” he cries. “he’s gone.” he repeats, again and again. “they all leave. why do they all leave?” he asks weakly.

joyce’s heart breaks for the boy shaking apart in her arms, using her last remaining strength to hold him upright and provide any comfort she can. she can’t help but look around, searching the crowd for anyone who might be there for him. she frowns when she finds everyone’s eyes on them yet no one making any moves to approach. she wishes she could hate them all a little bit for it, for leaving him alone. letting him feel alone and unwanted. unlovable. she knows the feeling and it’s the worst.

“well, blondie, looks like you’re stuck with me now.” her attempt to make him feel less lonesome seems to work, just a little, if the way he squeezes her for a second is anything to go by. “i don’t give up. i don’t leave. i promise.” she kisses the top of his head, gets the scent of hairspray, cigarettes and ash.

over the top of his head she finds steve harrington still watching them, a distant look in his eyes. he seems conflicted, staring at billy with wariness as he bounces nervously from foot to foot, holding the blanket hanging loosely around his torso.

he seems to make a decision when billy releases another sob at her promise, striding over and draping his blanket over billy’s shoulders. he goes out of his way to tighten it around him, making sure it’s comforting and cozy around his trembling figure. he hesitates once again as he goes to walk away, fist clenching and unclenching at his side before he looks back to billy with sad, tired eyes and rests his hand on the blonde’s shoulder, squeezing just once before he walks away. the same hand is nervously flexing at his side once again.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #this is not good nor accurate by any means do not expect much pls #crybaby billiam rights #i love love love joyce and billy #and i hate neil hargrove so this works out lol #fuck u neil #rip neil but i’m built different #anyways i had a bad day and cried so i projected and made billy cry 😌☺️#this hc has also been in my mind for a while and i knew i wouldn’t write it for ao3 so here it is hdjsjsj #joyce byers #my writing

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laurensprentiss · 3 years

Text

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 7:

Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, lots of angst. Emily Prentiss’ cameo! Will reader ever catch a break? Doutbful.

Word Count: 3,842 (It’s a long but a good’un)

———

Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.” - James Baldwin

———

You’ve been operating on autopilot since that day. For around a week and a half now, you work from home, run your errands, come home and find yourself staring into nothing, sitting in your apartment alone. You’ve been dodging calls from Hotch, your dad, Emily and now your ex, too, since he’d been back in town.

You’d stormed out of the building that day on wobbly legs, willing yourself not to buckle or fall on the floor, your breath shaky and shallow. You’d somehow managed to keep your composure in the cab home, staring out of the window, your brain feeling like static, incomprehensible, confusing and far too busy.

You were surprised though, at your outward composure, surprised that you hadn’t even felt the need to cry, not even so much as a lump in your throat anymore. The adrenaline had seemed to be wearing off on the journey home, you’d even give a weary smile to the cab driver as you got out of the car. But you’d been so preoccupied with your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the same black sedan from earlier that day, tailing your cab again.

Once you’d finally keyed your door closed, though - you’d sunk to the cold tile of your apartment floor and let the shame and embarrassment of your naivety wash over you, cursing yourself repeatedly, sick with rage. Not rage towards Hotch, or McCall. Rage towards yourself. Furious that you’d even let yourself entertain any sort of delusion about Hotch, that you’d even allowed a flutter of hope to bloom in your chest.

Mortified that he’d been actively avoiding you while you’d been waiting for the phone to ring, like some desperate, naive little girl.

You’d cried then, which had only infuriated you more. What did you have to cry about? He didn’t owe you anything. He had a job, and he was doing it well, considering he’d been the one to draw up the profile. He had a whole life, a past with Haley, and most likely, a future with her, too.

You’d heard a knock on the door behind you that had startled you in the midst of the tears streaming down your cheeks. You’d heard Hotch’s voice call your name from behind the door and you’d had to fight to not gasp or cry even more as he’d called out to you.

“Please. Just let me in. Please just let me explain myself.” He’d pleaded. He didn’t quite understand what he would say even if you did open the door, but the desperation he felt to see you, to just say something that wasn’t met with anger by you, far outweighed any rational thought he could muster right now.

You’d clasped both hands over your mouth and brought your knees to your chest to stop any sound from escaping, willing yourself to hold your ground just this once. To pull back some respect for yourself, to try and grasp at anything that would let you feel like you were on even footing again.

“Please? I can hear you in there, you can yell at me, hit me, scream at me, just please let me say what I need to say to you!” You’d just held your breath and focused on the rise and fall of your chest to keep yourself grounded, your eyes closed.

No.

You’d heard some shuffling and muffled voices through the door, Agent McCall’s voice familiar to you at this point. You’d listened hard as you’d heard him tell Hotch to leave.

“Ben-”

“Now.” His voice was stern. “Go talk to Barnes. I’ll handle things here.”

He’d hesitated for a moment against the door before he’d finally left, his body weighed down with the immense guilt, his stomach like concrete.

This wasn’t going to go away.

Once you were sure he’d left, you’d gathered yourself up off the floor and splashed some water on your face, willing the puffiness in your cheeks and eyes to subside. In your vulnerability, you’d felt intensely alone and mistakenly picked up the phone, needing a friend to confide in.

“Hello?”

“Jordan?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?”

“It’s me.” You could hear the gears turning in his head. You’d said your name through the phone and he chuckled.

“Hey. I wasn’t expecting your call. How’ve you been?”

“Can you come over?” You’d said abruptly.

He paused. There was no answer for a while and you’d had to look at the phone, to double-check it hadn’t been disconnected.

“Hello?”

“I- yeah. I’m on my way. See you soon, babe.” You’d shuddered slightly at his pet name for you, you never had liked it when you were together and it had felt even stranger now. But you needed someone to help you through this, and he was nothing if not familiar, even if you hadn’t worked out the first time.

Unbeknownst to you, though. Hotch had stayed parked across the road and had seen Jordan enter your apartment building around thirty minutes later. He’d frowned and leaned across the console to watch the figure walk into the lobby right as he’d seen your apartment lights turn on. He’d turned his attention to your apartment window then, as you’d drawn your curtains, the sight of you making his breath catch. He’d gripped the steering wheel tight as he’d maneuvered himself to desperately get a better view of you, only to see Jordan behind you as you’d pulled the fabric closed, his heart dropping and a lump forming in his throat.

He’d never even had you, but he’d lost you.

———

You give yourself a once over in the mirror again , dusting off some lint that isn’t really there off of your dress, turning to make sure that it fits right. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you step out of your bedroom.

“Ready, ma’am?” Agent McCall asks.

You simply nod and grab your purse as Agent McCall leads the way out of the door, confirming the address of the bistro over his earpiece. You have a strange knot in your stomach, the kind that develops when you have to see an old friend who you’ve lost touch with. The kind that develops when you have a psycho stalker and you’re estranged and furious at the one person who’d slowly become your comfort.

You’d decided that you had to try to make an attempt, a real effort to keep the small number of friends you did have, finally taking Emily’s calls and even proposing lunch. She’d responded excited, and had taken care of the reservations for you, said it’d be her treat.

You glance up towards agent McCall, a question bubbling up in your chest, but you lose your nerve at the last minute. He spots you from the corner of his eye but doesn’t attempt to respond or invite further questions, simply setting the SUV into drive and taking off. You bite the inside of your cheek, repeatedly looking at your watch, your index finger scratching divots into the side of your thumb. As you pull up to the restaurant, you spot two undercovers on either side of the block. MPD, you deduce.

Agent McCall opens your door for you, confirming something on his earpiece as he escorts you out. “I’ll be waiting right here, Agent Hotchner will be here soon to relieve me, so he’ll be escorting you back, ma’am.” He rattles it off like a rehearsed speech, but there’s a hint of levity in his voice.

Your head whips towards his direction. “Hotchner? No, he’s not on my detail anymore.” You quip back, the panic and excitement making for a strange cocktail.

“As of this morning, he is.” He ducks his head. “I’m sorry, I know what happened and I completely respect that, but the Ambassador made the decision and Barnes agrees. I’m sorry ma’am.”

Your chest flutters slightly at that, futile excitement, dread and anxiety spreading to your bones at the thought of seeing Hotch for the first time in so long. You huff and take his hand.

“We’re not done with this.” You mutter to him.

You turn to find Emily’s dark eyes watching you from the outdoor seating area of the restaurant as you cross the road, squinting slightly as if to see if it’s really you. When you laugh, she immediately sets her napkin down on the table, and shouts your name, her arms outstretched almost immediately, her face breaking out into a grin.

Oh Emily.

You close the gap between you, taking quick little steps in an awkward kind of run, as you meet her hug, her body almost crushing you. Air leaves your chest in a whoosh as you both laugh, rocking slightly to catch your balance. She rubs your arms up and down when she finally releases you, leading the way to your table. “Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She breathes.

You immediately relax, the dread and nervousness washing away. No matter how long it goes between visits with Emily, you could probably always count on the fact that you’d pick up right where you left off. You felt almost silly now for even thinking it’d be any different. The stress of the past month melts away and you finally feel at ease for the first time in a long time.

“It’s good to see you too!” You laugh, sitting back. You chance a quick glance over the SUV, but you give yourself away. Emily follows your eyes and spots Agent McCall parked on the other side of the road, watching you.

“Hey. What’s with the goon squad?” She points her head to the left to point to McCall, glaringly obvious that he’s there to watch you. “I spotted two UC’s a block away too.” She questions.

You sigh. It’s not really a question you can avoid, besides, she’s a close friend and confidante. And she’s so sharp, always aware of her surroundings - almost unsettlingly so. But if anybody could relate, it would be her. You briefly explain that somebody had been leaving you notes and gifts for a while which is why-

“You didn’t go to college this year - that’s right.” She nods, finishing your sentence for you. She winces slightly with sympathy as the pieces fall into place for her. She shakes her head in disbelief. “I- how long?” She asks. Her eyebrows are pulled together, her brown eyes wide and vulnerable.

“Since last summer. Dad had some old friends with the FBI so they're my security until we catch him, I guess.” You pick at a hangnail, the reality of the situation making your heart sink more every day.

“I'm sorry.” She exhales. “First a breakup, then your father’s whole heart scare, and then this?”

You look up at her. “How did you know about Dad?”

“Ambassador Prentiss.” She laments, sarcastically.

“Ah.”

“Mother had her aide get in touch when she didn’t hear back from your father.” Her voice softens as she reaches her hand across the table to stop you from ripping the skin straight off your finger. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I may not have been much help, but I’m always here to listen. You gotta reach out more.”

A lump forms in your throat as you come to the crushing realisation that you didn’t really have many friends at all, no real friends of substance that you could really confide in, anyway . Sure, you had society friends, acquaintances, the children of other DC officials but your heart sinks. You have nobody except your father and Emily - and your father, well. He wouldn’t be around forever.

You squeeze her hand back and thank her, retreating back to your lap and scratching your thumb again, toying with the skin. Her eyebrows quirk as she watches you, aware of your nervous tics.

“What is it?”

You snap your head up. “Hm? What? Oh- nothing.”

“Don’t even. I know when you’re lying. What is it?” Her eyebrows raise, the way they do when she challenges someone. She did always have the uncanny ability to see right through people.

You sigh. “Fine. It’s about the breakup.” She slumps back in her seat and rolls her eyes, her head shaking.

“You did not. Tell me you didn’t.”

“Don’t kill me. But, around two weeks ago, I kinda slept with Jordan.” You wince.

She inhales sharply through her teeth, shaking her head. “Come on. I thought you knew better! Why would you do that? He’s nothing but trouble.”

“I. I don’t know, it’s a long story. I haven’t seen him since, though.” You try to justify to her with a laugh, throwing your hands up in defence. “He keeps trying to call, but I just let it go to voicemail. If anything, I remembered why we didn’t work the first time around.”

“Uh huh.” She raises her eyebrows and huffs out a laugh. “Good. He gives the creeps.” She mutters.

You let out a laugh then, a real laugh and you can’t remember the last time you felt this light. You think for a split second about how you did feel this light and happy around Hotch despite the impending danger, but you erase the thought from your mind quickly, refusing to allow yourself to go down that road again.

The mere split second thought makes your chest drop, though - another wave of sadness washing over you just as quickly, and it’s only exacerbated by the fact that you’re going to have to face him soon. Your emotions seemingly do a rapid 180.

You feel grateful to be here with Emily, with someone to talk to, but the hole that you’d tried to fill with Jordan a week ago had only left you feeling more empty and dissatisfied with your life. You’d asked him to go home later that night, unable to look at him, or yourself. All you could think about was how Hotch was probably happy, living in domesticity with his first love and you were spending the night alone - again, while someone out there probably wanted you dead.

You flash Emily a quick smile and excuse yourself to the ladies’ room as she carefully watches you enter the restaurant. Once inside you try your best to hold in the tears, the harsh lighting oddly illuminating the top of your face, washing you out. You grip the edges of the cool sink, trying to even your breathing but the tears come as though they have a life of their own, falling down your cheek.

Your eyes sting and your chest burns as you finally let yourself cry again, you feel it long overdue, the loneliness, the isolation, the danger. All of it rearing its ugly head. You try to stifle the sobs from your chest, desperate whimpers escaping from your throat as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

A door handle turning suddenly startles you, making you jump. You clear your throat, your voice coming nasally. “Occupied.”

Loud knocks come this time, making rapid contact with the wood on the other side. “I said it’s occupied!” You call out, louder this time.

It’s silent for a moment before loud thumps and grunts come from the other side, as your heart drops, your knees weak. Your wide eyes dart around the bathroom when the door starts to heave, the hinges rattling as the person on the other side attempts to break it down.

You back away with shaky legs, trying to get as far away from the door as possible. You don’t even realise when you start screaming for help, the noise in the bathroom rising, suffocating you. A high pitched whine penetrates your skull, your hands and face sweaty, heart thrumming as you shake. Your vision tunnels and you feel nausea rising in your stomach.

The thumping suddenly subsides, a breathy laugh coming from the other side, as you fall to the floor, the cold hard tile against the back of your thighs. You find it hard to breathe, your vision is clouded by black spots, and you realise you’re still calling out for help, your voice screeching.

“Ma’am?” A young woman’s voice comes from the other side. “Ma’am are you in there?” She asks, panic rising in her voice.

You hear Hotch’s voice on the other side, speaking to the woman, followed by the sound of keys. Relief washes over you temporarily but you can’t bring yourself to get up or even move slightly, your body frozen. The young woman manages to open the door after shakily fumbling with the keys, Hotch brushing past her.

The sight of you on the bathroom floor, sweaty, cried out and so vulnerable does something to him he can’t quite explain. You’re curled into a ball in the corner of the bathroom under the sink, your knees against your chest, your hands clutching your head as you rock slightly. He’s furious and devastated in equal measure, doesn’t quite know how to proceed. Protocol dictates he ask you what happened, take you to a secure location, obtain evidence.

Screw protocol.

He gets down on your level, shrugs off his suit blazer and wraps it around you, not bothering to move you off the wall, the blazer covering you like a blanket. He whispers off the young employee to block off the bathroom area, his hand reaching up to push some matted hair off your face.

He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, the question entirely redundant if your current state is anything to go by. Figures it’s futile, patronising, even.

“Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” He whispers. Your eyes are still closed and you’re hyperventilating, droplets of sweat on your forehead as you rock back and forth. He hesitantly brings his other hand to your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek. “Hey.”

You hold onto his forearm. “Aaron?”

“Come here.”

You close the small amount of distance between you and lean forward to throw yourself into his arms, hanging onto his shoulder as sobs wrack your body. His arms awkwardly wrap around you, his blazer and your legs in the way, but he holds you close nonetheless, his hand running up and down your back as he shushes you. He remembers reading once, that even pressure around the ribs can help with nervous system dysregulation so he squeezes tight, whispering encouragement into your ear.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you. Breathe with me.” He doesn’t let go as he breathes exaggeratedly, wanting you to take his lead. His presence allows you to find a tandem with the rise and fall of his chest while he rubs smooth lines up and down your back. “That’s good, you’re doing really good, sweetheart.”

He has a lump forming in his throat and rage bubbling in his chest. He thanks God that he’d arrived here just in time and made the decision to run into the restaurant to speak to you when he did. He’d heard the sound of you screaming from the back of the restaurant right as he was about to ask the waitress if she’d seen you, and saw red as he’d sprinted through the booths and tables to get to you.

He was going to kill this son of a bitch.

You fall limp in his arms as your breathing regulates, your chest and the back of your throat aching like you just ran a marathon - your head feels like a brick. You let your eyes flutter closed and bury your face into the crook of Hotch’s neck, inhaling his scent. You remember back to the day you first met, almost four months ago now, the cold Virgina air, the rain, the way he’d given you his blazer - your body relaxes slightly.

The noise of the hustle and bustle outside the bathroom area starts to become louder as you finally start feeling present again, feeling returning to your hands and feet.

You hear a familiar voice right outside. “You need to let me in, it’s my friend in there.” You blink your eyes open.

Ma’am. It’s a crime scene, I’m afraid you can’t go in there.” A stern voice replies.

“What? A- a crime scene? Let me through.” She says defiantly.

Emily.

You hear a commotion and footsteps approaching, a shadow getting bigger as you release yourself from Hotch’s arms, using the back of your hand to wipe your face. She appears in the doorway then, a horrified look on her face as she gasps, the waiter trailing behind her, an embarrassed look on his face.

Hotch turns to look at her and back at you, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, concern etched on his face as you communicate wordlessly.

He raises his eyebrows.

You okay?

You nod.

Yeah.

“Honey.” She gasps. Hotch moves over to the side, standing up and offers Emily a tight smile as he brushes off his pant legs and hands. She sinks to her knees on the floor, sitting next to you, her arm around your shoulder, inviting you close to her. Her other hand rubs your thigh gently, and you lay your head on her shoulder, your hands wrapping around the one she has in your thigh and you squeeze. Her other hand gently brushes over your hair, as she inhales and exhales with you, her comforting presence something that you’d been sorely missing.

Hotch signals to excuse himself to Emily and she just nods, allowing him to leave. She doesn’t ask what happened, she doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move. Just offers herself to you as her heart breaks a little at the sight of you.

It’s around ten minutes later that Hotch returns, voices overlap through police radios as he shoos a police officer away. He crouches down to your level, a small smile on his face.

“Hey.” He rubs a hand on your shin. “We ready to go?”

You heave a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, get me the hell out of here.” You huff. You glance at Emily. “You're coming right?”

“Of course.” She whispers with a smile, her hand squeezing yours. “I’m gonna grab some stuff from my place first, okay? I can be at yours in an hour.”

You nod. Hotch holds out his hand to help you up, collecting his blazer and draping it around your shoulders, rubbing them as he does, to reassure you. He places a hand on the small of your back, nodding at the waiter as he shows the three of you out of the back exit, Emily walking behind you. Hotch’s car is parked right outside the service entrance in the back alleyway, and you smile up at him, thankful that you wouldn’t have to walk out to the front again.

“I’ll see you soon, honey.” Emily hugs you as you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing tight. She places a protective kiss on your temple and nods at Hotch as she walks around to get her car. You watch her turn the corner and take a deep breath.

“Hey. Let’s get you home.”

———

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

“These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

“I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

“Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #alive!luke patterson #charlie gillespie #caitsy and ash productions

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omiscurls · 3 years

Text

for eternity and one day more

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader soulmate au (the last words your soulmate will ever say to you are written somewhere on your body) content warning: general angst, major character death, mentions of funeral, car crash, hospital

you wish you could’ve said tears made your vision blurry. but after all these days, your eyes were perfectly dry, no little rivers were streaming down your puffed cheeks, and you were forced to stare directly at your wrist, and the words tattooed there by some idiotic magic. some cursed, freaky foolery that made you rethink your life the past two days at least ten times, searching for even one mistake, for even one moment you could feel something wasn’t right.

but to your dismay, there was nothing. everything in your life fell to pieces so perfectly, as if you were the princess in a dream of every five year old girl in the world, only now could you realize, it was all too good to be true. well, except one part.

the words stared back at you, burning into your flesh, your glance holding them into place, as if they were to disappear if you did as much as blink.

“and one day more”, the tattoo said, directly and clear, never changing tint painted your skin black, no matter how desperately you wanted the letters to shift into something else. you wished to be hated right now. you wished for it to be an insult, and yet, the words remained as cheesy and painfully romantic as the first day you saw them.

so he wasn’t your soulmate after all.

all these years, never once had you doubted that. since the moment atsumu introduced him to you, since the moment he said “oh and i guess this is omi-kun, but it’s not like you’re gonna have a conversation wi—”

and since the moment he interrupted.

“i am perfectly capable of introducing myself, miya.” since the moment he glared at him, fingers constantly running through his hair, all messy from practice, by which he was visibly annoyed.

“hate to break it to you, but my actual prefered name is a bit more mundane than that cursed nickname”

“hey, i came up with that! it’s not cursed!” atsumu pouted, half mockingly, half serious,

“precisely” he mumbled, making the setter narrow his eyebrows even more, before huffing and proceeding to leave, “i’ll be coming back to practice. it was so nice of you to come! just yell at me if you want me to rescue you” he winked, and soon was gone.

“so? are you actually going to tell me your name?” you asked, one eyebrow raised, as his eyes focused back on you.

“please, like you don’t know” he chuckled, internally surprised with himself that somehow, his usual anxiety and disgust wasn’t kicking in, instead he felt relaxed and in place when talking to you, even if it was no more than thirty second since you met each other.

“oh, so you consider yourself a celebrity, huh?” you laughed, causing him to shake his head.

for a second he didn’t respond. you were starting to feel startled with the way he started at your smiling lips, but then he blinked finally, and answered.

“i have places to be and balls to spike, smiles. let’s just say...”

and that, that was the precise moment since which you knew. since the one line he said before running off, a smug smile you should never be able to see, and yet you did. you were sure and certain. this was your soulmate.

“... i only share that information with people i actually like”.

“sure you do, omi-kun!”

since that moment, your heart began to settle and as much as you pushed that thought away, saying that you were too young to know, and after all you just exchanged a couple of truly meaningless sentences with him, you couldn’t deny the fact that you knew. knew for a fact, that you’ve found your own person.

it was so random and sudden, so casual, countless evenings did you stare at your mirror and let your mind wonder, trying to find answers as to why you were feeling so strongly so fast. it was uncharachteristic of you, even if you were ever in love, you didn’t believe it could happen on such first sight, and yet there you were. was it the magic your parents always told you about? the one so inexplicable that they always stated that “you just have to feel it”, and “you’ll know when it comes”?

you thought it was just your lonely brain pulling tricks on you, until that one night you decided to hang out with the MSBY team, and went to tsumu’s apartment, waiting for hinata, meian and sakusa along with tsumu and bokuto.

you didn’t pay much attention to their talk, it was mostly plans for the upcoming season, until they shifted the subject.

“hey, did you ever read what was on omi’s wrist? he never covered it, but maybe that’s why i didn’t pay attention” the blonde wondered, his fingers playing with the edge of his glass. bokuto shook his head.

“no, i think it’s too personal to check. why’re you curious? you hope you’re his soulmate or what?” he laughed in his usual, loud way, and the word “soulmate” called for your attention.

“no you weirdo, it’s just he started covering it recently, and i just wonder, did he meet his other half?”

“my ma’ always said that there’re no other halfs, because you’re a person on your own”

“yeah yeah, cute, but not the point here, bokuto” atsumu sighed. “and he didn’t even tell me... bastard.”

there was comfortable silence between the three of you for a few brief seconds, before the blond setter started the topic again:

“hey, you’re oddly quiet, where’s your tattoo located?” he asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes, as you glared at your wrist, covered loosely with the bracelet you wore over it ever since you got the tattoo, it being something so intimate you didn’t want to share it with the entire world at once, concealers didn’t work on the ridiculously black tint, and the bracelet made it harder to read.

“you didn’t notice? thought you were observant?” you teased, making atsumu roll his eyes and take your hand into his, pushing the piece of jewelery away to read the caption.

“it’s on your wrist too? awh, maybe you’re omi’s soulmate!” he exclaimed looking at the writing from every angle possible.

“what’s written on there?” bokuto asked, not wanting to shift from his seat across the table.

“oh, it’s and—”

“we’re here!” hinata yelled at the same moment, giving you an opportunity to move your hand back.

and so it stayed a mistery.

you shifted onto the bed you shared, still messy after you both woke up those couple of days ago, earlier than you were supposed to, because of a text he got from his mother. a text that set him off for the entire day and finally caused everything that happened next.

your heart couldn’t stay still when you put your head over the pillow, the familiar scent of the other side of the mattrace hitting you no matter how hard you tried to hold your breath.

you noticed a small package laying on a nightstand next to your fiance’s side, and you went over to grab it, eyes getting hot when you realized what it was.

a set of band aids.

omi wore band aids on his wrist for as long as you could remember, but according to atsumu, he only started wearing those after meeting you. they were always on the inner side of his wrist, and after a while putting them on was his routine, it grew on him so much he didn’t even really think about it - just bought a pack once a week and put it on 2 times a day, for it to stay hygenic. didn’t make it a big deal or anything, but if you asked, he’d turn really gloomy, while also trying not to worry you too much.

“hey, weirdo, let me see what’s under that band aid. you of all people should know that if you get a cut, you can’t have it covered all the time, it won’t heal like this” you muttered against the couch you were laying on, gently grabbing his hand by the little finger, only for him to jerk it away, not even moving his gaze from the book he was reading.

“it’s not a cut” he just mumbled, eyes following the printed letters in utter focus.

“then why do you cover it?”

“i don’t want you to see it” he explained straight away, in the blunt way he always would, not finding any reason to keep it away from you.

“why?” you asked sincerely, apparently enough to bring his eyes away from the book. he reached out to grab the tips of your fingers into his and slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, a soft smile wondering on his face but never actually reaching to lift up the corners of his lips.

you couldn’t help but grin a bit yourself, making him raise an eyebrow.

“quit smiling at me, i can’t stop messing up what i’m saying if you look at me like that”

you giggled.

“like what?”

“nevermind, dummy. just... don’t worry about it. just trust me and don’t check, okay?” he pulled your hand to his chest so you’d come and sit beside him in the armchair. you curled up against his chest, hair still wet from the shower damping his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of his perfume and the delicate, intimate aura of the moment, even though curiousity wouldn’t let you out of its hold.

“is it your soulmate mark?” you asked, remembering the conversation between you and atsumu, about how he started to cover it.

“thought i told you not to worry, didn’t i darling? can i trust you that you won’t check?” he mumbled against your hair, and let out a breath when you nodded. he trusted you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.

although now you wish you did.

“what’re we reading?” your sleepy voice ended the silence in your living room after a while, your eyes too tired to see for themselves. sakusa shifted and relaxed in his position, taking a breath before he started telling.

“it’s called the orange girl. it’s a story of a boy reading letters from his dead dad, who wrote them while terminally sick, about a love story he shared with a girl, whom he met on the tram, she got his attention because she was holding a basket of oranges. she then disappears and shows up at random places at random times, acknowledging him but never actually talking, and they continue this hide and seek until she gives him a riddle, which he solves. they can’t be together for long, since he’s sick, but they had to, since their love was so true they couldn’t stay away from each other without falling into pieces. they were like the glue holding each other together, the mistery being the only shared link they had for a long time” he kept lowering his voice as he felt your head growing heavier and heavier against his chest, to the point he practically whispered.

“that’s... sad” you mumbled, half passed out, and he tried so hard to surpress his laugh, so it doesn’t bring you out of your blissfull state.

“i don’t think it is, no. see, they didn’t have much time with each other, but that was enough for them, they cherished every moment and would much rather spend so little together than eternities alone. no matter how long she’ll have to spend alone before meeting him again, she’ll love him forever, and so will he, even though he’s not physically there, i think it’s poethic.” he stated, getting hair out of your face, gently leaning forward to put the book down.

“just as i’ll love you.” he added, now thinking you were asleep completely “even if you’ll hate me. come on, big baby, let’s get you to sleep”

come to think of it, he always said he’ll love you forever. never an eternity, always forever. in his proposal, it was “always and for always” and whenever you fought and made up it was “for as long as the sun shines in the morning”

never an eternity.

it’s not like it was something bad, he could be really a master of his words if he wanted to, and if he ever used that one, you’d obviously get scared and tell him to quickly say something else, not to tease fate too much, but he never did.

as if he knew.

you wanted to show him just as much you respected him and his privacy after that night, scared by the last sentence he said, and thought you didn’t hear, and made it your goal to find a new set of band aids for the both of you. it was often “look, omi! i found ones with elza, from frozen! she reminds me of you, so here. take these”

“excuse me? if i get elsa, you get swen”

“why the hell would i get swen?”

or that time when for your anniversary you had ones custom made with some of his favorite song quotes. it was an inside joke, not much of a joke but much of an inside between the two of you, that always put a smile on your faces while still reminding you that before love, before passion and before even friendship, there was always trust and respect between the two of you.

and that reminder was often needed.

he could be a sappy romantic, at times, but it was still the sakusa kiyoomi you met that first day, still a blunt jerk, accents on jerk, still closed off, still a bit egoistic and cold at times. you two had similar tempers, and it often resulted in fights. very often.

you loved his fierce attitude, you adored his honesty. appreciated the straight forward notices when he didn’t like something you did, and liked the way he always spoke what was on his mind when around you. but sometimes what was on his mind didn’t exactly cover what you wanted to hear.

as you put away the box of band aids, your hand grazed over the photoframe still damaged from the one time he had to glue it back together after one fight, after he threw it on the ground to let out his anger in some way.

you yelled at him for your fair share of over twenty minutes, and only when your voice started to get sore, did he start talking, but whenever he wanted, venom could cover those sweet words he’d so often whisper, as if his sentences were sharp enough to cut through glass.

“why can’t you just let someone care about you?” you’d shout, voice cracking at the end, causing you to put a hand over your throat, realizing it’s time to stop talking.

“because you won’t understand! you’ll never understand! that’s the thing, y/n, you may try as hard as you want to, but in the end, you’re too—” he’d manage to bite his tongue before saying something he didn’t mean, and yet your eyes widened.

“too what? too stupid? too much of an idiot to mit the intelectual standards you have set? is that it?” you’d drag and tease, as every muscle in his body would tense up, fists curling as he’d take the frame and smash it onto the ground, soon realizing how much of an overreaction that was, but not just yet.

“stop putting words in my mouth! i never said you were stupid, for fucks sake—”

the door closing behind you would wake him up from his thoughts, as he whispered a quiet “fuck” under his breath, and go after you.

nevertheless you’d never leave, you always went to the bathroom, put some water in your face, take a few deep breaths, and by the time you were ready to go face him, he’d already have calmed down and would be ready to talk, apologize if it was his fault, forgive if it wasn’t.

cause after all, you were soulmates.

you were meant to be with each other. you wouldn’t survive with each other. two puzzles of the same picture, fitting perfectly, and not with anything else.

right?

he’d mutter the lyrics to can’t help falling in love while he’d occasionally do your hair, he’d come behind you while you were cooking and rest his chin on your shoulder. leave notes in your lunch.

he was the most thougtful person you ever met. the most precise in his actions, most affectionate in what he was capable of doing for you, most selfless in giving his all into bringing a smile on your face.

one night, he came home from practice, and there was just something so weird about him, you remembered, about the way he smiled almost like he was fifteen again, all excited and hyped.

you lifted yourself up from the bed, finding it hard to move, since the ache in your heart was roaming throughout your entire body,leaving you tired and defenseless. however you managed to get to the dresser, and search for one through your shirts.

“so, you know how i’m not the biggest fan of merch, right?” he said, his eyes lit up as he turned around to grab a nicely wrapped, loose gift from his bag.

“i know? you don’t understand the hype people get from wearing things that have your surname on it, you’ve told me countless times”

“yes, but—”

“you’ve also told me that doing figurines of living real people is somewhat creepy”

“yeah, that too—”

“and that the plushie they made with you scares the living shit out of—”

“i know! i know! but listen” he’d say, handing you the package. as you began opening it carefully, he continued “you know that because of privacy policy they can’t make the merch jerseys the exact same as the real ones? the merch has the surname and number smaller by 2 centimeters, and the space between each letter is wider by exactly a half of a centimeter. and since we’re redoing the shirts with a slightly different design, i ordered—”

“you ordered one more for me” you whispered as you held the soft material in your hands, the paper laying somewhere on the ground, by your feet.

“i ordered one more for you.” he finished, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture “i know that i’m not the best boyfriend—”

“fiance” you corrected.

“fiance, when it comes to letting you wearing my things, so i hope this makes up for it in a way?” he suddenly flinched as if he remembered something right in that moment “oh, and...” he reached to his bag again “these are my perfumes. if... oh my god, this is so pathethic, why was i so—”

you took the bottle out of his hand, and, since he didn’t like to hug right after coming home, you gave him the brightest smile you could.

“it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” you muttered, hand moving upwards to ruffle his hair and mess with him just a little bit “come on, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready”

would it be a violation of your agreement if you just wore his shirt now? it’s not like he’d come check. you didn’t need your own-his shirt right now. you didn’t need to have “the one original that no fan will ever have”, you didn’t give a fuck about those 2 and a half centimeters of difference that meant so much to you.

you hastened to open the bottom drawer, and then, folded nicer than your version, was the real, real sakusa kiyoomi number 15 MSBY shirt, the one and only, a little harsh from being used and washed a lot, but right now, there was no softer fabric in the world.

you hid your head in the folds of the jersey, begging for the tears that you knew damn well were building up to finally come out.

“you idiot” you whispered, “you idiot, you idiot, you fucking idiot!” louder and angrier every time you began wailing, the black material being the only thing covering your screams. “why’re you always so stupid? so... so fucking precise? couldn’t you spend one night, one night without me? one night in anger? you’d still be— you absolute, fucking idiot, sakusa!”

only anger and frustration came to your heart as you recalled all the things he did with you.

all the dances to classical waltzes at three in the morning in the small light over your oven.

your walks with his dog, faces white and noses red from the winter cold.

all the events you’d go to along with him, when he’d dress up all pretty and would ask you to do his tie, even if he was the master of the art himself.

the time he actually taught you how to tie a tie, while you were both drunk talking in your bedroom after a college party.

all the things he did for you. the good morning forehead kisses, the cups of hot tea with the exact amount of additions you liked, the way he always wrapped your scarf a little bit tighter around your neck, the way he’d remind you to wash your face if you were too tired to motivate yourself to get up and do it.

why would he do all those things with such ease, how did he memorise every single line of your character, every single habit you ever developed, if he

wasn’t your soulmate?

your sharp breath began to even out after a while, as you recalled the most recent events.

he was very set off that morning. his mother, who he hated with all the hatred available in his heart, texted him something about an alledged family dinner he had to go to that evening.

the text woke you up at six in the morning on a saturday, not making a great start to a day full of nerves. ever since that text, he’d been more irritable and annoyed than the usual. he didn’t finish his morning coffee, he got splashed with rainwater by a car while on his run, everything was wrong.

everything was wrong.

you left the stage of your relationship where you were afraid of making each other mad long behind you, and yet you were kinda afraid to ask for the basic things that day. like, what did his mother text him? why did it annoy him that much?

you didn’t know that at the time, but what woke him up wasn’t a text, it was a burning feeling under his band aid. he lifted it, noticing you were still sound asleep and looked at the writing. nothing had changed, but it was burning hot, and didn’t allow him to stay asleep.

“what the hell?” he mumbled, rubbing the skin, as if that was supposed to help, but there was no result.

“mm?” you mumbled, asleep, and he just glued it back on and laid down next to you again.

“nothing, don’t worry about it.”

nothing, don’t worry about it was a phrase he overused. not that he wasn’t comfortable with you, no, it was the complete opposite, but as he was raised in a very traditional way, some things were just meant to remain a secret.

it was a sort of protection he’d give you, protecting you from his dark thoughts, his mind that often didn’t listen to his commands, from himself, putting it short.

little did he know, all you ever wanted was to see those parts of him that he kept caged from you.

that was the one difference between the two of you that nothing could get over, but, even in a puzzle, elements have to be different in order to fit, right?

right.

you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now.

turns out you would fit, just... not together. but why would someone be so perfect for you, why would your heart jump out of your chest every time you saw him, if it wasn’t meant to be? why did it feel so right if it just wasn’t?

as simple as that. he wasn’t your soulmate, after all.

that night, you got into a fight. you finally told him how many fucks you give about him wanting to protect you, how secretive he is, how dumb and idiotic, and weak it makes you feel. how you hated it.

you glanced at the delicate ring placed on your finger, and sadly didn’t recall the moment he’d put it there with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, but the moment you almost took it off the other night, driven by emotions and stupid, selfish motives.

if only you knew then... if only.

you wouldn’t say “do i even truly matter to you, kiyoomi?” you wouldn’t laugh sarcastically, you wouldn’t stare at him as if he was the worst person on earth. you wouldn’t make him feel so worthless and so pathethic.

“of course you do. that’s why i don’t want to get into it, what’s so hard to understand about that? why is so hard for you to accept, that i may just have things that i’m not gonna share with you? where is that privacy and respect you so like to talk about, huh?”

“kiyoomi, respect for privacy is one thing, you’re just isolating yourself from me! what, did you get bored of me? did you realize i’m not fit for your fantasies anymore? is that it?” you did know you shouldn’t have said that in the first place, you knew you did it purposely and only to hurt him, but emotions have taken over your brain completely.

“what the fuck! i know you’re just trying to make me more mad so i say something i regret, don’t think i didn’t catch up with your sick methods already, mrs smart!” he turned around to face you, a heartbroken look in his eyes, as if the trust he had for you was disappearing by the second. instant regret hit you, but that was just the deal between you two, nobody knew when to zip it and back off.

“oh so i’m suddenly so bad, huh? so hard to deal with, is that so?”

his face went all white, blood rushing away as he heard those words.

“that’s right. i heard you talking with atsumu.”

“hey no, you’re taking it out of context, i would never mean it like that and you know it damn well”

“do i? do i know it damn well, kiyoomi? or do i just try to believe in something about you that just isn’t quite there?” tears appeared in the corners of your eyes as you realized it wasn’t about the text anymore.

“no. no, no, no, no, don’t go there. you need to calm down, you’re being ridiculous!”

“i am being ridiculous? I AM being ridiculous? you’re the one that makes me hate you right now!” you shouted, as you turned around, grabbed your keys and phone and left the apartment.

it’s fine, he told himself, you just went over to the bathroom like you always do, but minutes and hours flew by and he realized you truly... left? he searched everywhere, and you just weren’t there. he began to panic.

especially with his tattoo burning it’s way into his skin even more.

it doesn’t matter where you went, it doesn’t matter for how long. what matters is when your phone finally rang from someone else than sakusa kiyoomi and you picked up, it was the worst possible call you ever got.

he was at the hospital.

car accident.

drunk driver.

it was so obvious, it was so basic, it was so... idiotically predictable.

you obviously rushed there, obviously with fear at heart, but you didn’t fear him leaving you forever. he didn’t say his “and one day more” yet, right? he couldn’t go.

you checked every document, talked with every doctor, with every relative already present, even dealth with his hell sent mother and overprotective sister, and dismissed every single bad news, every single “he might not make it”, every “i don’t know wether he’ll wake up, it would be a miracle.”

and when you entered the room, he did look as if he was he was one foot in his grave already. you were careful to reach out to to his forehead over all the little cables and tubes, and get his annoyingly curly locks out of his eyes.

“why did you follow me, dumbass?” you whispered, eyes set on his closed lids. “you know i’ll always come back to you. i love you too much to leave, you know that, right? you’re aware? why did you do such a dumb thing? you’re smarter than this! we’re smarter than this!” you whined and whined, but to no response.

his mother gently informed you that it might be time to say goodbye, but you didn’t listen, you didn’t care. it wasn’t the day he’d die.

you stayed in his room alone for a little while, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb, mentally apologizing for being so, so difficult, and stubborn, and— and stupid!

you didn’t know what it meant when all the devices started beeping suddenly, you had no idea.

but even you would recognize that line that was supposed to jump at the speed of his heart rate going straight. you’d recognize that awful beep. that deadly calm on his face.

“hey. hey, hey, hey!” you started shouting. “don’t you dare leave me yet, you idiot! we still have so much to do together, no, no, no start working! start fucking working!” you screamed at his still heart, looking at the dark screen.

“no. no no no no no, i refuse, i won’t let you do me like that, sakusa, you hear me? you’re not allowed to—” you began panicking as you shook your fiance’s body desperately, barely managing to even move him a bit.

“wake up, you idiot, wake up!” was the last thing you said before your words started blurring together and becoming an incoherrent mess, before the doctors got into the room, before some nurse escorted you out.

that was the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend.

and now you were supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, you were supposed to act like the composed, grieving partner, his never-to-be spouse, picture perfect form of sadness, yet you couldn’t pick yourself up from the floor, where you were sobbing in the material of the damn jersey, ironically, cause he’d be so mad for it, if only he was there.

honestly, anything would be better. any screams, silent treatment, any fight, any tears, anything. would be better than this.

because not only were you incapable of picking yourself back up after loosing your only love, you were also painfully reminded that this man, the man that meant the whole universe to you, he wasn’t your soulmate. he was never in the plan for you. and you were so mad, at whoever was up there, at fate, at god, at whatever, you couldn’t believe it, you felt like a glitch in a system.

he had to be your soulmate.

and yet the last words you heard and are ever gonna hear from him were “you’re being ridiculous”.

as you tried to get up from the floor, hands clenching around the material, you realized you have no idea what time it is.

you had no idea where your phone was, at that. you didn’t check it in over three days, you didn’t have the nerves to read all the “oh my god, are you okay? i’m so sorry for your loss” bullshit.

they would never understand “your loss”.

so as you finally found it somewhere in your purse, it was all out of battery. it took a while to charge it, and after you realized how little time you have until the funeral begins, you received a ton of messages all at ones, just as predicted.

you didn’t mean to go through them, you truly weren’t in the place to do so. but there was a chat that was always pinned at the top of the list.

your eyes widened.

1 new message from:

omi <3

your fingers and breath both shook endlessly as you pressed the highlighted font, eyes watering finally when you realized,

it was a voice message.

it took a while before you pressed it open.

sounds of traffic were heard, as if someone was calling you from inside a car. “hey there, smiles, it’s me, your favorite douchebag of a boyfriend! no, without all the jokes, we all acted on impulse, didn’t we? i’m sorry for all i said. you know i am. just let me explain it to you in person, okay? i’m driving around here, but you’re nowhere to be found, and your friends don’t know anything about where you are, neither does atsumu. you can be mad at me all you want, but please come home, okay? it’s getting late. we can fight but i won’t stop worrying about you ever, i won’t ever stop caring. please, baby, please tell me where you are? you’re not picking up, so that’s why i’m leaving you a voice message...”

your heart was beating like crazy as you listened to your boyfriend’s voice, realizing this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear him say.

“... anything is better than not knowing if you’re okay, y/n, any screaming and yelling you have planned for me, truly. i didn’t mean what i said, and neither did you. but i do mean that i will really try to be more open with you, if that’s what you want. i’ll try to make up for every mistake i’ll ever make. and remember, i’ll love you

for eternity, and one day more”

after that, his speech was interrupted by a loud noise, him saying “what the fuck” and some sounds of metal being smashed. and after that, there was a whole minute of silence.

a scream left your throat as you realized,

he was your soulmate, after all,

but you lost him forever.

after you finally made it to the funeral, greeted by your friend and hugged tightly by sakusa’s sister, coldly glanced by his mother, you realized, the cascet was open.

why the fuck. would they leave it. open?

“hey, sakusa-san?” you asked your fiance’s sister, and she turned around with a tired smile.

“please honey, call me by my first name” she said gently, playing with your shirt, as if she had to do something with her hands.

maybe it ran in the family.

“why did they... why did they leave it like that?” you pointed towards where your boyfriend surely was, and her smile disappeared suddenly.

“mother wanted it like that, honey. do you want me to help you go see him?” she grabbed your hand tightly and smiled, as much as she could, and when you nodded, she leaded the way.

it was hard. it was very fucking hard. you wanted to run, you wanted to disappear, to not be there anymore. he looked as if he was sleeping. as if he was going to wake up any moment. you swore his eyelid twitched at one time.

maybe you needed to do something with your hands too, because you noticed something wrong about his suit.

“who the hell made that?” you asked while reaching over to his hand.

“who do you think?” the woman sighed, pointing towards her mother.

“he has his sleeves uneven. he’d hate that” you chuckled under your breath, adjusting said sleeves, when suddenly, your fingers grazed over the black ink on his writs. you looked, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

wake up, you idiot! said the writing. you let out a breathy sigh as you reached over to your purse, and glued one last “frozen” themed band aid over the tattoo.

“you’re my eternity. and my more, too”

#haikyuu sakusa #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #angst #hq angst #hq fanfic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu icons

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jazy3 · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X17

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I liked this episode, but I wish they had gone deeper and delved into things in a more in depth way for many of the storylines. It also felt to me like there should have been a Part 2 and that this episode should have been Part 1 of a two part finale rather than the Finale itself. I wish they had done this episode the one week earlier or that they had spaced out the content between two episodes because then we could have gotten longer scenes between each of the characters rather than short snippets.

I loved seeing Meredith back at the hospital working again and doing what she does best! I like Meredith in her new role, and I think combining that with starting to operate again as Richard once did is a good fit for her at this point in her career and in her recovery. I really enjoyed her storyline with Bailey and their conversations about tradition versus forming a new path because I can see both sides. I can see why doing the speech and following in Richard's footsteps was important to Bailey, but I can also see Meredith's point. As she says people are dying every day from COVID and the last thing the students need is for someone else to talk at them about medicine when what they really need is to practice and see real examples.

My favourite parts of the episode by far were the scenes with Meredith and Hayes! I loved the OR board scene. I loved their banter and the way they smiled at each other. I love that Hayes was cracking jokes about Meredith getting sick and them not being able to go out for a drink because of the pandemic because admitting how scared he was and how much he cares would be too painful. And I love that Meredith totally got that and matched what he was saying because it’s scary and painful for her too. In this scene we learned that Meredith knows that Hayes is the one that found her and that she remembers him talking to her while she was unconscious, begging her to fight, and talking to her about her kids.

We got confirmation that Hayes was asking Meredith out on a date at the end of last season and that she wishes they could have gone and had a drink before the pandemic hit. Hayes’ jokes about her getting sick to avoid having to turn him down and that it must have been some other Irishman begging her to wake up only work because it’s clear how untrue all of that is. Meredith clearly wants to go out with him and he’s obviously been worried sick about her and she knows that otherwise she would have reacted differently when he made those jokes. But she gives as good as she gets, matches him, and plays along because admitting how scary all of that is is just too much.

I also loved their scene in the Attendings Lounge although I wish it could have been longer and in a more intimate setting like one of their offices or a meeting room of some kind away from prying eyes. I love how Hayes just rolls with the punches. When he comes into the room Meredith is crying on the couch. It’s Christmastime and Hayes knows as a fellow widow how hard that the holidays can be. He comments says as much to Meredith, but she’s not in the mood for talking about how much she misses Derek, so she changes the subject and pretends that she’s upset about her patient Gerlie not being able to get a lung transplant.

So, Hayes plays along and talks about how great that would be. He then tells Meredith he got her a present and gives her a bottle whiskey. When Meredith comments that it’s opened and half full, he replies that he got for her on short notice. Which implies to me that he was planning on getting her a bottle of whiskey for Christmas, but he figured he’d see her later on, but when the opportunity arose for them to have a drink and he happened to have a half full opened bottle of whiskey he decided to give it to her as a gift rather than wait till later. Either that or he bought the bottle for her as a gift and then when he didn’t see her wound up drinking part of it only to run into her shortly thereafter.

I love that they were finally able to have a drink like they talked about, but I wish the scene was longer and more intimate. I was really hoping to see them talk about how hard it must have been for Hayes to find Meredith in the parking lot after what happened with Abigail and her time on the beach. I’m hoping that we’ll get to see that next season during one of their dates. I also really want to know what happened after they cut away. Did they continue to drink in the Attendings Lounge before going home? Did they retire to one of their offices to drink some more before going home?

I really loved the scene with them at Maggie’s wedding. The adoring way Hayes looked at Meredith and her kids as they came down the aisle and the look they shared during the ‘in sickness and health’ part of the vows. I’ve seen a few different interpretations of this and I would like to share my favourites. I’ve seen some people say that Hayes looked over at her and they shared a look because they both know what it means to love someone and watch them get sick and die young. Others have speculated that Hayes looks over at her because he waited for her when she was sick and now she’s healthy. Others have suggested that Hayes looked over at her in that moment and Meredith saw him in her peripheral vision and so she looked over and they shared that moment before turning back to the wedding.

Like a lot of fans I was really hoping to see them dance at Maggie and Winston’s wedding and while I’m disappointed that that didn’t happen she wouldn’t be Meredith Grey if she didn’t leap into action when her patient needed her. Plus, we now know that Teddy and Owen are engaged and will likely get married next season so they could presumably dance at their wedding. I wish the scenes between Meredith and Hayes in this episode had been longer and more intimate, but I understand that moving the timeline forward eight months made that difficult. It felt like they cut away from their scenes just as it was getting interesting and so with Meredith back on her feet and the show having moved forward to April 2021 I’m hoping that next season there won’t be as many time jumps and we’ll get to see longer more meaningful scenes with Meredith and Hayes like we did last season.

I'm excited to see them pick up this storyline next season and hopefully move it from a slow burn to a raging fire. Because I gotta be honest I was super into the slow burn element last season, but this season I was a bit annoyed. I sat through many a relationship of Meredith’s that I knew wasn’t going to work out or that wasn’t right and watching her and Hayes dance around each other when they could be together and happy is getting a bit tedious. Especially since I’m not as invested in the other couples as I am in Meredith and Hayes. I was super invested in Tom and Teddy, but now that’s over and with Tom in Boston there’s no chance of that storyline coming back full time.

I like Maggie and Winston and I like Amelia and Link but I’m not as invested in those couples as I am in Meredith and Hayes so I’m hoping for more movement next season. I love Meredith and Hayes together so much! I love their friendship and I love them as a romantic pairing. I love their banter and how they just get each other. I truly believe they will get together next season and that their relationship will be a big plot point in Season 18.

While I loved Maggie and Winston’s wedding the drama it took to get there to me was a bit ridiculous. While I'm glad that Maggie’s Dad and Winston’s Grandmother objected so that they could have a real wedding at the end of the episode which is what they really wanted and deserved I was frustrated by how that came about. Maggie literally made that exact point the previous episode and Winston took it as Maggie getting cold feet and was really upset about it. If he had just listened to Maggie and really thought about what she was saying he would have gotten it.

Instead, he got upset and Maggie wound up compromising to the point that the backyard wedding wasn’t at all what she wanted, and Amelia wasn’t even there because she got called into work. Maggie did all of the compromising and Winston did none. Then his grandmother makes the same exact point as Maggie did the week prior and suddenly he gets it? It felt a bit like drama for drama's sake. That being said, I loved their official wedding! I thought it was beautiful. I am happy that Maggie finally found happiness with someone who gets her (most of the time) and I'm excited to see her adjust to married life next season.

I have a similar critique about Amelia and Link’s storyline. Up until these last couple of episodes they’ve had a very healthy relationship which was sabotaged when Link became convinced out of the blue that Amelia wanted to get married and have more kids when she specifically told him she did not want to get married anytime soon and he brought up having more kids then went to go get popcorn and then never asked her whether or not that was something she wanted. Which frustrated me because it felt like a rehashing of a storyline they’ve already done.

Amelia has already gone through this with Owen more than once. We saw Cristina go through this with Owen before that. What is it with men on Grey’s Anatomy becoming convinced that their girlfriends want to get married and have a bunch of kids when they literally tell them that they don’t or they’ve never asked them? I was sad to see them fall apart in this episode and I feel like it was a lack of communication on both ends that caused the break up. Link became enamoured with the idea of getting married and having more kids even though Amelia told him she didn't want to get married and he never actually asked her if she wanted more children and ignored her obviously panicked response when the topic came up multiple times. Amelia for her part was clear she didn't want to get married anytime soon, but struggled to tell Link she didn't want more kids because he was so excited every time the topic came up and having gone through that with Owen multiple times before she dreaded how it might end so she avoided the topic. I think Link went way too far with proposing to Amelia and by saying yes to fostering Luna without talking to Amelia first. Also, where does Link get off telling Amelia that Zola, Bailey, and Ellis aren’t his family but he loves them anyone and then arguing that it’s the same with Luna?

Amelia and Link were both close to Meredith before she got sick and were living at her house. Amelia and Jo like each other but aren’t that close. Amelia looked after Meredith and Derek’s kids back when Derek was alive and has been a part of their lives for many years and Link had spent time with them before Meredith got sick. Amelia had never even met Luna prior to this episode. Also looking after your dead brother’s kids when your sister-in-law is in the hospital and might die is very different then agreeing to foster a high needs baby so that your partner’s best friend can adopt her.

To top it off, Link literally tells Amelia that Zola, Bailey, and Ellis are her family but not his family technically and then turns around and tries to propose to her at Meredith’s house in front of them and when he gets upstaged by Owen decides to use those same kids to propose to her at her sister’s wedding. He got the kids involved when he straight up told Jo he wasn’t sure if Amelia would say yes. Why would you do that if you don’t know what the answer is going to be? Now the kids are upset and these aren’t just random relatives.

Amelia and Link raised those kids for two months while Meredith was sick. Amelia outright says in an earlier episode that Zola has big wedding dress dreams, but that she doesn’t want to get married so why on God’s green earth would Link think that involving Zola who has been through enough was a good idea? All that being said, I really do love Amelia and Link together as a couple and so I hope that they can find their way back to each other next season. You don't have to get married or have more kids to be happy. They can be happy just as they are, so I hope that they find a way to communicate better and work things out because I love them as a couple and Amelia deserves her happy ending. She's worked so hard for that.

Speaking of proposals, Link’s not the only one who pops the question this episode. After reconciling with Teddy and supporting her when she contracts COVID, is asymptomatic, and then recovers Owen is inspired to propose once again. Owen, Teddy, Leo, Allison, Amelia, Link, and Scout are gathered at Meredith’s house with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis for Christmas Day when it starts to snow in the backyard. It’s revealed that Owen set up a snow machine as a Christmas present for Teddy. He then gets down on one knee and proposes in front of everyone. Link is displeased and Teddy accepts.

I love the shade that Meredith threw at Owen in that scene. “Including your ex-wife,” she says because Meredith is a good sister and she is Team Cristina and Team Amelia always. She tolerates Owen and his nonsense because he keeps marrying her sisters and having kids with them, but she’s got no problem calling him out on his BS. Good for Amelia being so happy for Owen and Teddy. She’s a better woman than I am. I would not be happy for Owen and I definitely wouldn’t be clapping and cheering. Something I noticed throughout the episode is that Link seemed to take Amelia’s joy at the happiness of others getting engaged and getting married as a sign that she wanted that too while outright ignoring the look on Amelia’s face, her words, and the tone of her voice when the topic of marriage and having more kids actually came up.

I think Link saw what he wanted to see in this episode because he became so enamored with the idea of being married to Amelia and having more kids with her that he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Jo even points out to him. Anyone paying attention could see that Amelia does not want to get married or have more kids, but Link was so caught up in the joy of it all that he failed to see what was right in front of him. As for Owen and Teddy engaged, I’ve never been a Teddy and Owen shipped, but if this means that the drama, fighting, and nonsense is over then I'm happy for them.

I hope they make it work this time because both Teddy and Owen have hurt so many people in the course of their ongoing drama over the seasons. They've hurt Beth, Cristina, Amelia, and Tom just to name a few and so many people got caught in the crossfire. I mean how many times did Meredith tell everyone involved that what they were doing was a bad idea? I hope they make it work because if not Owen and Teddy will have spent a good chunk of the series hurting themselves and everyone around them for no reason.

This is a personal opinion, but I think proposals at big family events and holidays are super tacky! If you propose on a holiday you’re upstaging the kids and/or the host of the event, like Owen did at Christmas, and if you propose at a family event you’re upstaging the happy couple and/or hosts, like Link did at Maggie and Winston’s wedding, and you’re making a day that’s supposed to be about something or someone else all about you and your partner. If it doesn’t work out you’ve just ruined that holiday for everyone, and everyone’s memories of that day are forever tarnished by your poor judgement.

I know some people love that kind of thing and kudos to you, but I find it extremely tacky. If someone did that at my event or wedding, I’d kick them the hell out and probably never speak to them or invite them to anything again because upstaging a bunch of excited kids, the happy couple, or the hosts of the event is extremely selfish and self-centered in my opinion. Especially if you don’t know what the answer will be. While Owen upstaging a bunch of kids at a family event at someone else’s house felt very in character to me because he’s always pulling stuff like that Link’s proposal and his proposal attempt felt very out of character to me.

One big critique I had of this episode and the previous one is that both Link and Winston acted very out of character to me. Up until this point they've come across as loving and supportive partners who know exactly what they are getting into. In the last two episodes of the Winston got upset about something totally reasonable and refused to listen to Maggie and then was forced to conceded when his grandmother put her foot down. None of which would have been necessary if he had just listened to Maggie and really thought about what she was saying.

Likewise, in the last two episodes Link goes from being completely understanding of what Amelia is saying about marriage and someone who talks things through to becoming convinced that Amelia wants to marry him and that she’ll say yes if he does a big grand gesture surprise proposal during a major family event. He tells Amelia he wants more kids and then gets up to make popcorn before Amelia can say anything and then becomes convinced that she wants more children too even though he never outright asks her and it’s obvious she’s opposed to the idea because she looks absolutely panicked every time the topic comes up.

On a more positive note, I really loved Jo’s storyline in this episode. While I'm not a fan of Jo's OBGYN storyline I loved her storyline with Luna and I am so glad that she decided to fight for her and was able to adopt her. She deserves to be happy after all she's been through and her adopting Luna felt like her journey came full circle in a lot of ways. I loved the Tom cameo! I am a Tom fan and I love that he'll continue to be a part of the show as a shareholder going forward. I also really loved the Jackson cameo. I thought Jo buying Jackson's penthouse suite apartment from him was perfect. It tied up a loose end and it enabled Jo to adopt Luna and finally have a nice place of her own. I hope we see more cameos like this throughout next season.

As this season comes to a close, I have to say I really loved Meredith's time on the beach, and I loved seeing Richard step into a new role at the hospital and really shine. As for what I’d like to see next season, I really want Meredith and Hayes to start dating and become a couple and for their kids to meet and for them to become a happy blended family. I want Meredith and Irene to meet and bond as originally planned. I want Amelia and Link to figure their stuff out so they can be happy. I hope we get to know Winston more as a character and that they bring in someone new to head up Plastics that Jo can date. I think seeing her dating as a new single mom could be really interesting. I want Dr. Mason Post the hot vaccine doc to come back and I'd love to see him and Levi end up together. I'd also like to see Bailey and Richard get some juicy storylines.

Until next time!

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Forty-Nine) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Oral (male and female (nb) receiving). Mentions and descriptions of sexual assault, child pornography, rape, wire cutting skin, PTSD, PTSD triggers, etc. IF YOU KNOW THE PIANO MAN CASE, JUST APPLY ALL OF THOSE WARNINGS TO THIS CHAPTER!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 14,753

Timeline: Season 7 Episode 12. Two months after part forty-eight.

A/N: Sub!Hotch is coming! :)

A couple of weeks ago, Hotch signed up for a triathlon that the FBI was holding in order to raise money to help support retired agents that needed psychiatric help. He insisted that it was important to him, and that he wanted to do it alone after I offered to sign up, too. As someone who needed help, he understood what it was like to be those on the couch in the therapist’s office. He knew better than anyone. Thankfully, we could afford to get him help—the best help that money could buy—but there were plenty of people who couldn’t afford it. Hotch loved the Bureau, and he loved making a difference in the world, so I knew exactly why this all meant so much to him, and why he was going to push himself to the very brink just to make sure he would raise as much money as possible. Not that I would tell him he couldn’t do it. I was just worried, and I didn’t want him to hurt himself since he wasn’t exactly as young as he remembers being. I just had to keep an eye on him.

When I found out that he was going to start training every morning by heading to the park to go on runs, I jumped at the opportunity. As he got up quietly that first morning to sneak around to make sure he wouldn’t wake me, and he put on his sneakers and athletic clothes, I rolled out of bed and started getting ready, too. He stopped when he came out of the bathroom to see me tying up my running shoes. Slowly, a smile started to form on his face. I smiled back at him, then patted his chest lightly as I walked around the bed and towards the stairs. Hotch chased after me to pinch my side playfully. I tried to slap his hand away because it made me giggle a little too loud, and the kids were sleeping just down the hallway, but Hotch predicted my attack, and instead grabbed my wrist and pulled me against his chest.

“Try it, baby girl, and see where it gets you.”

I bit my lip seductively. “In bed with you?” I teased.

He squinted. “In bed, sure. With me? No. With toys? Of course.”

“And… what would you do with said toys, Agent Hotchner?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets, Agent Hotchner.” He kissed my knuckles before releasing me and heading downstairs. I took a moment to catch my breath and regain my balance since my knees felt weak, then I followed him out to the car so that we could drive to the park.

We started going every single morning after that. When we started getting into the swing of things, we learned that we just didn’t have enough time between waking up and getting back on time to get the kids ready, so we started going after we would wake them up and drop them off at Jessica’s house so that she could drive them to school when it was time. At first, they hated getting up early. Like any normal kids, they hated getting up for school in the first place, but then we were insisting that they would wake up even earlier just so that Mom and Dad could go running in the park for an important race that he had coming up.

Eventually, Hotch and I turned our morning jogs into a competition. Whoever finished first always got to Dominate when we got home, no questions asked. Hotch kept fucking winning. I was sick of it. Now, I was determined more than anything in the world, to beat him at least once, just to see that devilish grin get smacked off his face, if nothing else. So, I started getting smart about it. I thought it like sex, right. Hotch liked to go slow and steady in the beginning in order to save his energy for the end. I always liked to go too fast and hard, which would wear me out by the end. So, I started playing by his rules. Slow and steady, and then sprint at the end. I wasn’t any good at it, if I were being honest, but I was working on it, and Hotch wasn’t exactly too happy to know that I was gaining on him, which boosted my ego somewhat.

But then slow and steady stopped working. The longer we raced, the better Hotch got at pacing himself and increasing his stamina, and it was getting hard to keep up with him again. So, I got smart, and I decided to play it my way. Rules were meant to be broken, right?

On Tuesday, when we got to the park, I started jogging normally. I followed closely behind Hotch at first, but the further we went, the longer the distance between us grew, and I got annoyed. But I played it cool. I waited until I could see the finish line in the distance. We always started at the car to limber up and stretch, then we would run around the park, head down a trail for a bit, then work our way back to the car. Whoever tapped the car first won. So, when I saw our car in the distance and I noticed that Hotch was kind of speeding up a bit more, I made my choice. This was it. This was my chance to finally win.

“Ow!” I cried out, coming to a halt while grabbing my leg. Hotch looked over his shoulder to see what happened. I hopped on one leg, my face cringing as I continued my act. “Aaron—” He stopped just as soon as he realized that something was wrong and started jogging back towards me. “Shit, my ankle…”

Hotch held his hands out for me, like he was ready to catch me if I needed to topple over for any reason. “What’s wrong?” His eyes tried to find mine to get a read on what was going on. “Are you alright?”

“You know I love you, right?” I asked, still looking down at my ankle to hide the smirk that was growing on my face.

“What?”

“Tonight’s gonna be fun.”

Before Hotch could put two and two together, I put my foot back down on the ground, and I ran like hell towards our car. It was just ahead, in the third spot in the parking lot, the trunk facing where we were in the park. I tapped the trunk of the car as fast as I could before spinning around, my arms raised in the air as I claimed victory finally. All that work trying to win, all those days of Hotch being so cocky because we would get home and he’d immediately claim his reward, yet I finally won just by juking him out. Sucker.

“You gotta keep up, old man!” I called to him. Hotch threw his head back and groaned. “Do you need a walker? Maybe a stretcher will suffice? Ooh— maybe one of those old-timey walking canes. Yes!” I laughed. “Oh, that’s going to be your birthday gift this year.”

Hotch squinted sourly at me as he got closer. When he was within range, I raised my arms and jumped on him. He caught me and let me kiss him suddenly. It didn’t matter that we were both still panting and sweaty, we’d continue to be until we could get home, finish my victory tour of his body, then finally take a shower. It was just something we had gotten used to recently.

“What about a blue one to match your vest?” I asked while jumping off him, still joking about the cane idea. “Or maybe red to match your favorite tie.”

“Y/N…” he warned.

I threw my hands up defensively. “You’re the one who lost.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you cheated,” he scoffed.

“I didn’t cheat. I just… abused the fact that you love and care for me so much that you had to come check on me before you crossed the finish line.” I grinned and threw my arms back around his neck to make him kiss me, but I didn’t jump up again. “That’s not cheating. That’s profiling.”

Hotch chuckled sarcastically, “Profiling? Hmmm… Interesting. Did your profile include that I don’t let cheaters get away scot free without punishment?” He was leaning in close, and he was whispering so that only I could hear the veiled threat. I gulped. “Car. Now.”

“We’re in a park, Hotch—”

“Then you better stay low.”

He grabbed my bicep and started dragging me towards the car again. He let go when I was set on my path to the front passenger’s side door. As he unlocked the car, Hotch eagerly jumped into the driver’s seat, and I slid into mine beside him. The second we were both settled in our seats, Hotch lifted his hips and pushed his shorts down to his ankles, then his underwear. Somehow, he was already hard without me even having touched him. I felt myself heat up and my thighs rubbed together when I started getting wet. I knew that it was a bad idea. Anyone could see us, and he probably wasn’t even going to fuck me, but—

Hotch grabbed the back of my head and pulled me over the arm rest between us. Before I could protest or do anything, Hotch pushed my open mouth onto his cock. I moaned around him in response to the sudden, demanding movement. He kept pushing me down until I was gagging and pushing against his thigh to find relief, but he didn’t let up.

I heard him let out a groan as his head fell back against the headrest. Knowing I wasn’t getting out of this easily, I decided to give in. When his fingers tangled in my hair, I started moving of my own volition up and down his length. His grip tightened. I moved my hands from his thigh to the base of his length, using my fingers to add stimulation.

“Baby…” he moaned lightly. I still heeded his earlier advice, keeping my head low, using my tongue to do the extra work. Usually, I took time to tease his tip because it was the most sensitive part of him, but he was holding me down, and I still didn’t want to be seen by anyone outside of the car. “I won’t last long.”

Already? Honestly, I thought to myself: the sooner the better. The faster he finished, the faster we could get home and I could finally claim my prize for winning this race. I was sure he was going to be stubborn about it, but that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? So, I hollowed my cheeks around him and took every inch of him into my mouth until he hit the back of my throat.

“Fuck—” There was his tell. Hotch’s hips bucked slightly, and he pulled at my hair, earning a groan from me. The vibrations of my moans and groans around him was enough to tip him over the edge. He cursed my name as he came in my mouth. “Good girl,” he hissed, snapping his hips up as he finished. “Look at me,” he demanded lifting my head off him slowly. As he raised me up, I looked at him through my lashes. “Open.” I presented myself for him. “Swallow.” I closed my mouth and did as I was told. “My good girl.”

“You’re in for it when we get home,” I told him with a smirk, facing forward in my seat.

Hotch pulled up his pants. “I’d like to see you try.” And then his phone started ringing.

I whined. “Please, no. Don’t answer it.”

However, Hotch was already grabbing it and swiping his thumb across the screen to answer it while saying, “I’m sorry, baby girl.” I sighed and slid down in my seat, knowing that it had to do with work and that our morning plans were going to be postponed. Hotch hung up. “We have a case.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby girl…” He slid his hand onto my thigh, grabbing it lightly and playfully but still sensually so as to get my attention.

I forced myself to look at him. “You still owe me.”

“I know I do.”

“I won’t forget it.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

I slowly felt a smile grow on my face. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

After that, Hotch and I headed home to get showered quickly. Apparently, JJ only gave us about an hour to get home, get ready for work, then head to the office. It was plenty of time. Hotch and I raced up the stairs and to our bedroom, tearing each other’s clothes off while kissing each other sloppily and desperately as we stumbled around. There wasn’t enough time for me to claim my prize yet, but there was still time for other things. So, while we were standing in the shower, soaking under the warm water, Hotch had me pushed against the wall, my arms pinned over my head, his tongue fighting for dominance against mine. I rolled my hips around to get him all worked up, and I succeeded. He knelt down in front of me and grabbed my hips roughly to hold me steady as he pressed his tongue flat against my clit and started flicking it side to side. I almost slipped at first. If he hadn’t been holding me the way he was, I would’ve lost my footing and fell right over, crashing into the constantly draining water. But Hotch wouldn’t let that happen. He made sure that I was safe so that I could just focus on moaning out his name and begging for more while pulling at his wet hair.

Once I came, Hotch kept holding me, sliding his hands up from my hips to my waist as he stood, and then he kissed me roughly again. I moaned into his mouth as I tasted myself. It wasn’t exactly the reward I anticipated getting after our run, but it was still perfect, and I let him know it as I continued to kiss him by keeping him trapped in my arms that were flung around his neck.

“We have to…” he began before I kissed him again. “We have to actually… Fuck… We have to actually shower, baby girl.”

“We could also call in sick.”

“No…” He moved one of his hands to my neck slowly, but then he quickly grabbed on and held me still against the wall so that he could pull back and catch his breath. “We have to actually go in today.” He used his free hand to brush his hair out of his face and wipe the water out of his eyes. He looked so hot like that, though… Fuck… “Behave.” He gently released me. When I didn’t jump him again, he relaxed. “Good girl.”

“I hate you.”

“No, no, no. What do you say after what I just did for you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Sir.”

He grinned as he grabbed the shampoo from the ledge. “Exactly.”

By the time we were actually clean, we had run out of time in our hour that JJ gave us. However, it didn’t seem to be that big of deal, considering that as we were running into the office building with our case files from home and two apples for breakfast, Rossi was meandering up to the door casually like he didn’t care that he was late, too. He opened the door for us just in time to run in. He chuckled. While we raced through security, hardly getting a chance to stop and greet the guards we were friends with, Rossi was still slowly making his way through, yet we still waited at the elevator for him. We were great friends…

In the elevator, Rossi stayed quiet as he looked between me and Hotch, then looked us both up and down respectively. I furrowed my brows, curious as to what he was looking at or for. Did Hotch leave a button undone? Was his zipper down? Did I forget to brush my hair? What the hell did Rossi find so intriguing about us just standing in the elevator?

“What?” Hotch finally asked, also uneasy with Rossi’s silent profiling and wandering eyes.

Rossi shrugged and looked forward. “Did you two work out this morning?”

Wait— What? Did we smell? Was our wet hair from the shower somehow an obvious sign? Did I not fucking brush my hair! David Rossi, I swear—

“We did. We’ve been jogging.”

“Jogging.” Rossi nodded with a small smirk. “And how was the, uh… work out.”

I rolled my eyes. There it was. Somehow Rossi knew that more than a morning jog happened. That man had a scent and an eye for that kind of thing, and I never understood how. I could shower and not have sex for a week, and he’d take notice. I could fuck Hotch ten times in a day, and he’d notice. What was our tell? We’re we really that bad at hiding it? I mean, come on, we were married, we were still… young-ish. We had stressful jobs and home life, but we loved each other, and we loved to show it as often as possible. Could Rossi really blame us?

“It’s called training,” Hotch rolled his eyes, “and it was fine.”

“Right…” Rossi agreed sarcastically. “Training. Training for… what, though.”

“Rossi!” I hissed, hitting his arm playfully.

He shrugged like he didn’t know why I had yelled at him or hit him. He was acting all innocent. “What? We’re just talking about jogging!”

“Yeah, we are!” I insisted.

“There ya go. No harm, no foul.” The elevator dinged and the doors started opening. “Next time, though, just keep in mind that I walk my dog at 7:15 in that park every morning. I go back to my car in the fifth spot around 7:45. Maybe try not doing it in the front seat of your car in the third spot at 7:45.”

My jaw dropped and my eyes shot wide at the realization. Rossi stepped out of the elevator, still grinning, but I looked up at Hotch, both of us utterly horrified. “Then you better stay low?” I echoed his words from earlier as quiet as I could as we stepped out a few seconds after Rossi was gone. “Oh, my god!” I couldn’t help the smile that was widening on my face and the laugh that was growing in my chest. Hotch was red with embarrassment, but what the hell did he have to be embarrassed about when I was the one who had been choking on his length with his hands tangled in my hair! “This is your fault.”

“You’re the one who was being a brat,” he hissed under his breath. He opened the glass door for me. “I think there’s shared blame.”

“You insisted—”

“Do you want me to punish you again?”

I squinted at him. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m counting that.”

“I still won this morning. So, technically, I should be the one counting.”

He shook his head as we kept walking to the roundtable where everyone was gathering so that JJ could present the case. “You can count, brat; but I’m still keeping score of my own. Just keep that in mind.” He ushered me into the room without another word about it, but with a devilish grin plastered to his face.

“Good morning, everyone,” JJ greeted as everyone took their seats. I was squished between Hotch and Emily. “There’s a problem in Houston that we’ve been monitoring for a while, but they’ve finally called us in so that we can handle the case with a hands-on approach.”

“Why?” Emily asked.

“Because the Piano Man is back.”

I froze in my seat. “What?”

Five months ago, Houston PD reached out to us with a serial rapist case where at least twelve survivors had come forward in the last five years, all claiming to be attacked by the same man. Police identified and connected all of the cases because of the survivors’ testimonies. His MO was to knock them out with a date rape drug, then he would bind them using piano wire. Hence, the name—which I explicitly argued against in my original profile and consultation. This had been my case to handle while Hotch was gone. However, they took my profile, and they never got back to me. I simply figured they caught the guy.

“What do we know?” Hotch asked.

I answered that. Because of the drugs, none of the survivors could remember the assault. However, because of all the missing time, we could approximate that he was keeping all of his victims for about twelve hours each after being taken or attacked in different times, locations, and ways. The twelve hours were to ensure that he had as much time with them as possible before the drugs would wear off, leaving the police with no evidence. Even rape kits turned out to be a shitty lead.

“Brittany Anderson woke up the other day in front of the diner that she had been abducted outside of,” JJ said. Wait— “And Vanessa Campbell went missing last night.” No.

“Those were victims two and five,” Reid realized.

“He’s going back and attacking his survivors a second time,” Morgan added.

JJ nodded. “Unfortunately, that didn’t save Vanessa this time around. She tried, but…”

“What do you mean ‘she tried’?”

“Vanessa tried to throw up the drugs using a salt and water mixture.”

“A homemade emetic,” Emily said, impressed. “She knew how to protect herself from ever getting drugged again, but it just didn’t do the trick. Whatever he’s drugging them with must be stronger this time around.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “because everything she’s done since her first attack has been to protect herself. She got a new home security system, she stopped drinking alcohol, she doesn’t take public transportation anymore, so on. She’s been extremely cautious.”

“He’s getting off on upping the stakes,” I whispered. Everyone turned to look at me. I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably in my chair, trying to straighten my posture without raising any questions. “He’s getting off on knowing that no matter what, no matter how safe they feel, he can still get to them.”

“So, the question is, how did the Unsub drug her and take her in her own home?” Hotch questioned. He looked at me to say, “I want you to take the lead on this case since you did the original consultation and profile.” I nodded. “Okay. Wheels up in forty.” He immediately stood with his things in hand and headed towards his office.

Everyone began collecting their things and pushing out their chairs so that we could hurry to our desks in the bullpen and grab our go-bags. Morgan was eyeing me warily the whole time. I tried to ignore it, thinking that he had probably just caught my awkwardness in the roundtable room. Out of everyone, he probably understood most of all why.

“Y/N,” Hotch called from his office. I looked up from my go-bag on my chair and saw him curling his finger towards himself and his office.

“Ooh,” Morgan chortled, “someone’s in trouble with the principal.”

I squinted at him. “Bite me.” I stood and started walking up the ramp.

“Every day you stray further from the sweet and innocent Y/N who first walked through those doors. When do I get them back?”

“I was never sweet and innocent, Derek! Once you learn that, you’ll think of something smart to say back to me one of these days.”

“And the shots just keep coming.”

“They never stop!” I laughed.

“Hey,” Hotch greeted as I entered his office. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright with working on this case.”

I furrowed my brows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hotch hesitated. “Well, I figured with… the nature of it…”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, I saw you during the case presentation. I know that what happened to you in high school isn’t something you like to talk about, but it’s okay if you can’t—”

“It made me uncomfortable, Hotch, because we should have taken this guy down five months ago before he started going back to his survivors. No one should ever have to endure that twice. Ever.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I want to lead this case. I want to be there when we take him down. Okay?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” I nodded, too. While I hadn’t exactly told him the entire truth, I only told him what mattered—and, honestly, since he lied to me about Prentiss, I had some wiggle room to lie to him, too. He didn’t need to know that this was putting me on edge. Not yet at least.

“I got Prentiss’s evaluation back,” he told me quietly. I cocked a brow. “She lied to her therapist in order to pass.”

“Well, that’s okay.”

“What?”

I shrugged. “She’s just trying to move past it all. She really just wants things to go back to normal.”

“Y/N…” He hesitated. “I know that she wants things to go back to how they were…” He eyed me carefully. “But she’s still going through it. She can’t just snap her fingers and make things the same.”

I eyed him back. That was about more than just Prentiss. This was about how it had been a solid two months since he got back, and things weren’t back to how they were before he left. Honestly, I knew that I told him that they would eventually, but I wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t that things were bad. In fact, they were as good as they could get, considering all the pain he caused, but to say that it would ever be how it was… No… That was impossible. The best thing we could do now was to just look to the future and create a new normal.

Hotch shook off his thought. “I’m going to talk to her before the team gets on the jet. Think you can hold them off for me?”

“I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.”

----

On the jet, Hotch and I sat in the two seats in the very back while everyone else was huddled around the four seats—except for Emily, who was still reading the case file on her own. Hotch held my hand during takeoff. Four years into working at the BAU, and I was much better at flying than I was when I first started, but it was still nice to have him there to comfort me whenever the plane would bounce while climbing in altitude.

Then, once we were high up in the air, coasting for a few minutes like we would be for the next few hours, I nonchalantly laid my head on Hotch’s shoulder—not even realizing what it was that I was doing and where I was doing it. I just needed to rest my eyes. That was all I was thinking about. Houston was a couple hours away, and we weren’t going to keep talking about the case yet, so I could afford to just shut my eyes for a little bit… Even if it while laying on Hotch in front of everyone on the jet. Though, to be fair, we had done a lot worse on that jet while people were around.

“Why are you so exhausted, my love?” he whispered, careful not to disturb me or catch anyone’s attention.

I sighed and relaxed even more against him. “Between staying up all night with Scar, then keeping up with you while jogging, then going to work, then… you know… stuff at home…” He chuckled. “It’s all a lot.” Then I realized how that sounded. “But I’m happy!” I insisted quickly. “I’m happy, baby, I promise. I’m just tired.”

He grabbed my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips. After pressing a gentle kiss on them, he wiped his thumb gently over every bump. “Why don’t you go sleep on the couch for a bit while Emily and I catch up on the case since we weren’t here when you guys first got it a couple of months ago?”

I nodded against him. “Okay. Thank you.” I lifted my head off of his shoulder, and with half-open eyelids, I pushed myself out of my seat and slowly meandered over to the couch on the opposite side of the jet. I plopped down with a groan.

“Rough morning?” Rossi asked from his seat.

With my eyes still closed, I responded, “I will cut your tongue out if you don’t figure out how to hold it.”

I heard him chuckle, earning a smirk from me, too.

----

I jolted awake when I felt a hand on my bicep, scaring the absolute shit out of me. When I caught my breath, I realized that it was just Hotch carefully coaxing me awake on the couch. That was when I realized that there was no one else on the plane. We weren’t moving anymore. Shit.

I groaned as I sat up. “You let me sleep the whole way?!”

“Sorry,” he apologized quietly, “but we heard from the local PD as we were landing.” He handed me my go-bag when I was ready. “There were no date rape drugs found in Vanessa Campbell’s stomach contents.” I cursed under my breath as I stood and we started walking off the jet together to find that the team was already gone, leaving us with the last black SUV that we had waiting to drive us into town. “They didn’t find anything in her system, actually.”

“Wait, what?” I inquired while sliding into the backseat. That was odd, considering she would have only just been drugged, so there should have been some traces of the drug in her bile.

“That’s not even the worst part.” He settled in the seat beside me, then patted the driver’s seat to reference that we were ready to go. The chauffeur started driving. “Three more victims have come forward to admit that they had been re-assaulted.”

I didn’t even have to ask why they didn’t come forward earlier because I already knew the answer. They didn’t think it was worth it. At least once someone came forward and the story hit the news, it encouraged more women to come further. I was sure that if Reid were riding in the car with us, he would’ve given some statistic—one which I really didn’t want to hear in this case.

At the station, Emily and I went to sit in the boardroom all day, ready to ask each of the survivors the questions we had prepared. When the first girl showed up, I took the lead. I asked the questions, and Emily just sat by and took notes; but the longer we sat there, hearing the same depressing story again and again, I found that I was slowing down, and it was getting hard to keep asking the same questions while already knowing how gut wrenching the answer was going to be.

The first question was always about what they had changed in their lives since the first attack. Vanessa Campbell had changed her appearance, her home, her work, her lifestyle—everything for the sake of protecting herself. When we first started asking the question, we anticipated different answers. We thought that we would have to grasp at straws to find connections, but we were not at all prepared to hear that they all did the same things. Hair, clothes, home, work, partners, lifestyle, pets—everything. They all changed the same things.

And then there was a moment when I asked myself if I had done that, too, without realizing. After it happened, I stopped going to parties. I mean, it happened at the end of senior year at one of the last parties that our graduating class ever threw, so it didn’t really matter. But in college, I never went to one. I thought about it, but every time I did, I felt sick. So, I stayed in. I stopped wearing clothes that were revealing all the way up until I met Hotch. But I think that stood out the most was my sex life. While I never had any “boyfriends” or “girlfriends” after it happened, I certainly had my fair share of fuck buddies. BDSM parties, swinger parties, orgies, even. For some reason, I took what happened to me, and my brain made sense of it by telling me that I had to relinquish control in that part of my life—but only with people I absolutely trusted. I never, ever participated in one of those events unless I was with a friend that I trusted with my life.

Most people, on the other hand, would have never done what I did. Understandable. I took the route that said I needed more sex in order to forget about what happened to me—whereas most survivors were the opposite. But everyone was different. I handled my trauma the way that made sense to me, and each of the women we interviewed that day took the other approach.

But then they all said something that was all too true about me, as well. They didn’t tell the police because they didn’t think that anyone would believe them. I was in high school. I was underage at a party, photographed doing illegal things. If I would have gone to the police, I would have been in more trouble than the boy who took those pictures because his face was never in them. There was evidence that I had been drinking, there was evidence that I had been smoking pot, and there was evidence that I was fucking a boy. Yet, there wasn’t a single shred of evidence of what he actually did—other than my word… But knowing the statistics, what were the odds that they would have believed me over him?

“Besides, who would ever believe the slut who cries wolf?” Dana, one of the survivors, asked. I cocked a brow at her. “Can we take a break or something? I need a smoke.”

I froze while writing. After hesitating for a moment, I looked at Emily, then I looked at Dana. That was the fourth time we had heard that request from the survivors. Four out of four.

After Emily told her that she could smoke outside the building, Dana grabbed her purse and left. I spun in my chair to look at Emily. We were both thinking the same thing, I could see it in her eyes. If the victims weren’t being drugged through their drinks or food, then there was only one common link between them that made sense. Their cigarettes.

My phone started ringing with a call from Morgan. I answered to check in with him and Spencer on what they found at Vanessa Campbell’s house. Just like we had seen in the case file, there was vomit on the kitchen floor, a broken glass from the homemade emetic, the glass door had been busted in, and there was a clear sign of a struggle throughout the kitchen and living room. But what the cops failed to mention in their report before Morgan and Reid got there was that the TV was on, and that the Unsub had been playing a song that Vanessa absolutely hated, according to her husband.

“Can you try asking the other victims if there’s any song they can’t stand since their first attack?” Reid asked me. I asked why. “If there’s a pattern, he could have possibly chosen to play that exact song on purpose.”

It sounded reasonable enough, so I gave in to the idea. When Dana came back from her smoke, we asked her about the songs. She told us that there was one piano ballad specifically that she couldn’t stand anymore because it had been playing during both attacks. After we talked to her, Emily and I went back to talk to the other survivors, and they all told us the same. So, Reid had been right about a pattern.

I collected my things as Emily saw the survivors to their cars just outside of the station. Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Morgan, and Spencer headed into the boardroom and took some of the empty seats, making sure not to steal Emily’s next to mine. I watched Morgan as he sat down. I wondered if he was okay since getting back to the station from Vanessa’s house, after seeing everything that man did to her. Morgan and I had different experiences, don’t get me wrong. But assault was assault. Just because mine aligned more with the Piano Man case didn’t mean that the content didn’t still bother the great Derek Morgan.

Hotch cleared his throat, catching my attention. He made a smooth gesture my way to tell me to start leading the meeting. They all wanted to know what Emily and I had found out while talking to all of the survivors, and I wanted to know what Morgan and Reid thought of the songs and the crime scene at Vanessa Campbell’s house. With confirmation that the song was part of the Unsub’s signature, Reid started putting all of the pieces together so that Rossi and Hotch could start building an official profile off of the one I had given the local PD months ago.

Reid finished what he was saying with, “It’s possible that while they’ve lost consciousness during their attacks, the Unsub is playing each of these songs on repeat, and in the victims are retraining the information—perhaps like a Pavlovian response, which turns the songs into a trigger.”

“The question is, why these songs?” Hotch questioned.

“Well, piano ballads are usually comforting, romantic songs. He could be setting the mood while also torturing them with the fact that music will never sound the same to them,” Rossi offered.

I cleared my throat like I had something stuck that was choking me up, and I used that as an excuse to leave and grab some coffee. No one said anything as I left.

----

That night, while Hotch and I were getting ready for bed at the hotel, I got lost in thought. I was standing in front of the sink with the water running, staring into my own reflection in the mirror, remembered the photos he had taken of me and used against me just to get some fucking money… Not that he even needed it. He came from a good family that was sending him to a good school so that he had a bright future. But he just wanted to make my life a living hell. I could remember that even after the bruises on my hips faded and the hickeys on my neck and collarbone disappeared, it never felt like they were gone because they were always there in those pictures. Even though Morgan and I burned those pictures a long time ago, it still felt like they were following me around. It felt like the bruises were still on me.

“I thought you said you could handle it,” Hotch whispered from behind me. I snapped out of my trance to see him leaning against the doorframe. “This case. You said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It isn’t,” I insisted while shutting the water off.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to lie to each other.”

I glared at him through the mirror.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he said, approaching me to try to hug me from behind. I dodged the attempt and stepped around him, heading for the bedroom. “It’s okay if you need to sit this one out because of what happened—”

“Like I’ve told you a thousand times, Hotch, I’m fine. I don’t need you worrying about me when I just need you to focus on helping me find this guy. Okay? Drop it.”

“I have every right and reason to worry about you!” he exclaimed while following me into the bedroom.

I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. “Aaron.” He stopped to stare at me, fear in his eyes, an obvious debate running through his mind about what the hell I could be so serious about all of a sudden. “Do you remember when I told you that I’d ask you to lay out all of the lies for me one day, when I was ready to talk about Emily and everything?” He nodded warily. “I need you to tell me or I’m going to go crazy during this case. I can’t be battling knowing that you’re still hiding things from me and also swallowing the fact that every time I hear someone on the team call those girls ‘victims’, I want to throw up. So, I need you to just… lay it all out for me. Right now.”

“Baby, are you sure—”

“Yes, I’m sure. You promised me. This was the deal that if I stayed, if we were going to work through this, then you had to fess up. No matter how bad, no matter how stupid, I need to know, Hotch. I don’t keep things from you, and all I ask is that you share the same courtesy.” I huffed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Please.”

Hotch took a moment to himself, standing there in front of me, watching as I stared at anything on or around him in order to avoid his gaze. It was humiliating to ask my husband to be honest with me. I knew that there was no way he had cheated on me, and I knew that there was no way that he stopped loving me, so I didn’t fear that something like that would come up, but I was still terrified that he would admit something that would break my heart, and maybe make things worse. But, honestly, nothing could have been worse than him lying about Emily’s death and letting me name our daughter after her.

He finally gave in. Slowly, he sat beside me, keeping his hands to himself, and he followed my lead by just staring at the wall opposite us. “Okay,” he croaked. He cleared his throat to reiterate, “Okay.” He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I lied to you about Kate.”

Oh, my fucking—

“When I was working with her in England, there was one night when we slept together. We had both been drinking, and one thing led to another, as they usually do, and it happened before I could stop myself. I regretted it the next morning… I told her that it could never happen again, and it didn’t.”

“Did Haley know?”

Hotch shook his head. “She would’ve left me if I told her. And it didn’t even mean anything, Y/N. Kate was one of my best friends. It’s like if you slept with Morgan—”

“Don’t be vulgar.”

“I’m serious!” He chuckled. “There would be feelings, sure, but it wouldn’t ultimately mean anything—” He suddenly stopped himself. “Or. Well. Would it?”

I punched his arm lightly. “No, it wouldn’t.”

He rubbed the spot where I hit him while still smiling, but then he started thinking about other lies he had told or secrets he kept from me, and his smile faded. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving Haley…” he whispered. “And I don’t think I ever will.”

I grabbed his hand and intertwined our fingers. “That’s not a secret, Aaron Christopher Hotchner.”

He looked at me. “It’s not?”

I looked at him. “No.” The temptation to run my fingers through his hair overthrew me, so I gave in. He nuzzled into my touch as I did so. “Someone once told me that we’re capable of loving more than one person in our lifetime. They never really believed in soulmates, and I don’t think I do either. I think that there are just a string of people in our lives that we meet and we fall in love with them as hard as we can, and there’s no stopping it. Sometimes it’s just one person, and that’s enough to last a lifetime. But there are other times when it takes a few ‘soulmates’ before finding the one you don’t ever want to move on from.” I brushed his hair off his forehead. “I’ve only ever loved one other person the way I love you. Only one. Even now, years later, having not seen them in a long time, I’m still in love with them. Does that mean I love you any less? No. You are my forever love, Aaron Hotchner.” I cupped my palm on his cheek. “Haley was your soulmate—one of them, at least. You grew up loving her, and you dedicated your life to her for as long as you could. You had a family with her. That doesn’t wash away just because you’re not legally married anymore or because she isn’t around. It’s okay to love her, Aaron. It’s okay to miss her. I would never, ever judge you for that because I know that you still love me, and that I’m one of your soulmates—”

“You’re my forever love, Y/N,” he whispered while pressing his forehead against mine.

“Then, you don’t have to worry about me getting jealous over Kate or Haley. You don’t have to be scared that I’m going to run off because you’re still in love with your first soulmate. I’m not going anywhere.”

He slid his hand around the back of my neck, bracing me because the next thing I knew, he was kissing me deeply. I exhaled through my nose as I kissed back. I knew that he hadn’t gotten all of the lies and the secrets out yet, but I was honestly content with what he had said. I knew how hard it was for him to be truthful. I knew that him and Haley had a relationship that sorely lacked communication, and that was why they ultimately failed. So, I couldn’t push him too hard, and I couldn’t make him start piecing together all of the lies and the secrets of his life in one night. I thought that was what I wanted, but now that we were in the moment, I realized that it was too much. Too much for him, and too much for me. It was okay to just leave it where it was.

Hotch pulled from me shortly to catch his breath. “I’ve got another one.”

I smiled and ran a finger over his bottom lip. “Okay.”

“I used to sell pot in high school.”

I let out a laugh. Shaking my head at how stupid and silly he was, I pulled him in for another kiss, moving so that I was laying down and he was towering over me, his legs straddling my hips, his hands holding my face for balance, my fingers still tangled in his hair to keep him close. He must have run out of actual lies and secrets if he pulled that one out of his ass.

----

The next morning, we got the worst news possible. Just as we were settling in at the precinct to get to work on the profile, the cops got a call about a body in a river that ran through downtown. The detective who called us in for the case let us know that he was heading down there just to see if it had anything to do with our case or not, and I decided to send Morgan and Reid with him. Only, at the time, I didn’t think anything would come of it. But then my phone started ringing with a call from Morgan, which I eagerly answered, only to feel my heart drop to my stomach.

“Hey, peanut,” Morgan greeted. “We just found Vanessa Campbell’s body.”

I let out a sigh as I braced my elbow on the desk in front of me and hid my face in my hand. “You’re sure?”

“She matches the description, and her body is covered in cuts from piano wires that were restraining her.”

“Can you guys tell if she was…” I hesitated.

Morgan knew what I meant, though. “We won’t know for sure until the coroner runs a complete autopsy. But, listen, Reid found something that might help.” I cocked a brow and put the call on speaker so that the rest of the team could listen in. “We found pieces of surgical gloves in her mouth, like she bit it off the Piano Man’s hand or something.”

“Okay? So what?” JJ questioned.

“These gloves aren’t latex— and they’re expensive ones, too. He couldn’t just get these anywhere. Our Unsub has an allergy to latex, and Reid and I are betting on the fact that he works at a hospital.”

“He could have been one of the doctors that treated all of the survivors when they went in for their rape kits,” Emily said.

“Stay with the coroner for now, Morgan,” I said into the phone, “and I’ll let you guys know if there are any updates later.”

“Sounds good.”

I hung up on him and leaned back in my chair, looking at the team as they all stared at me. The glove changed some things, but not much. I mean, it was a solid lead, and JJ was already getting in contact with Garcia to start looking for the doctors that treated all of the survivors and had a latex allergy—but in terms of the profile… Things changed a bit. The gloves were just a counter measure. He was evolving because he knew that we were hunting him, and when Vanessa fought back, he got rid of her.

“Garcia couldn’t find any record that any of the surgeons or doctors that treated some or all of the survivors have a latex allergy,” JJ said. But then her phone started ringing. “Penelope?” After a moment, she put the call on speaker.

“I found something,” Garcia immediately said. “I couldn’t find a connection with the surgeons or doctors, but I did find one link with an orderly named Herman Scobie. According to hospital computer records, he accessed each of the victims’ medical and insurance records after they came in for a rape kit the first time.”

“That’s how he’s been finding their addresses after they moved,” I realized.

“Y/N, Dana’s back,” Emily said from beside me. We all turned around in our seats to see one of the survivors, Dana, standing in the middle of the precinct, aimlessly looking around for us.

“Everyone, clear the room, please,” I told the team. They all stood and began filing out of the room. Emily and I followed behind them, but we walked towards Dana instead of staying with the herd.

“He killed Vanessa?” she asked instantly.

Emily nodded. “Yes.”

“He could be after any one of us now, right?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

Dana sucked in a shaky breath while clearly contemplating something. After a long moment, she relaxed and looked at us. “I remember some things about that night. I… I lied when I told you guys that I completely blacked out.”

“Would you be willing to tell us now?”

“If it’ll save us… yeah…”

Emily smiled lightly. “Okay. Let’s head to the boardroom again.” She gestured across the office, and Dana turned to head there. Emily started following, but I stayed still. She waited up for me, taking a step back when she realized that my gaze was glued to the wall. “Y/N?” She put a comforting hand on my bicep. “Are you alright?”

I looked at her. “I can’t listen to it.”

Emily looked like she wanted to ask why, but I could tell that she also understood that there was no point in prying. “I’ll handle it, then. Why don’t you go with the team to the Unsub’s house, get some fresh air, clear your head a bit.” I nodded obediently. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.” I put a friendly hand on her shoulder as I walked around and past her, meeting up with the team as they were gearing up to head to Scobie’s house.

On our way there, Hotch and I sat together in the front seat of one of the SUVs with Morgan and Reid in the back. Every so often, Hotch would glance over at me, his eyes trying to get a read on if I was any better since last night when I somewhat admitted that I was struggling—at least specifically with the fact that no one was showing the survivors the respect they deserved. Even Morgan was still referring to them as “victims”. But I felt somewhat better, especially since Emily said she could handle questioning Dana on her own. I knew that I would feel a thousand times better, at least, when we would catch this son of a bitch, and it meant that one less predator was out on the streets.

“Y/N, we have a plan to stick to,” Hotch whispered. He must have seen the hungry look in my eye for revenge. I tried to shake it off. “I don’t want you to be the one—”

“It’s going to be me,” I insisted.

He hesitated. I wasn’t like my sister, he had to know that, right? Elle wasn’t able to control her emotions, so she arrested Lee before we had enough evidence, so we had to release him, and then he attacked her. I wasn’t going to let that happen again. We were going to do this the right way and we were going to make every single goddamn charge stick.

But even as we were pulling up to the house, I could still see that Hotch was unsure about letting me out of the car, so I just had to make sure that I was the first out, and that I was assigning orders to everyone as fast as possible. The plan was that Hotch and I were going to take the front door, Rossi and Morgan were going to take the back door, and Reid and JJ were going to search the van that was parked out front. I couldn’t wait to serve the search warrant to this asshole.

As Hotch and I approached the front door, I pinched my comm on my shoulder to ask if everyone was in position. When I got confirmation, I nodded to Hotch. He steadied his stance before roughly knocking on the door and exclaiming, “FBI, open up!” But there was no response. We had reasonable cause, so Hotch stepped back, then kicked the door in. Together, we rushed into the house, searching the living room, but that was when I saw Scobie, dressed in his work scrubs, dash through the hallway, heading straight for the back of the house.

“Morgan, he’s headed your way!” I yelled into the comm.

Within the next few moments, I heard a loud thud outside, followed by Scobie’s quick protests to be released. Seemed like Morgan got him.

“Y/N!” Rossi called through the comms. “We got him. There’s boxes and boxes of Neoprene gloves in his van.”

Hotch was watching me as I smirked and started heading towards the backyard to get a good look at the Piano Man.

----

When we were back at the office, Emily was already done talking to Dana, but asked her to stick around so that we could get a positive ID on Scobie being the Piano Man. She accepted. So, after we got him in the interrogation room, we led Dana to the mirror room where we told her that she would watch with Hotch and JJ while Emily and I went in there to talk to him. We made it clear that we would have to play his game. We were going to say things that we didn’t really mean, but Dana just had to trust us. She nodded nervously.

“You okay to go in there after earlier?” Emily questioned me.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, then. I’ll take the lead, then. Be the strong, dominant personality or whatever.”

“I’ll follow,” I said with a smile.

It was a good interrogation tactic. Two women going in to confront a serial rapist. One of the women fit the dominant role to a T, while the other was submissive and shy to whatever he wanted. The conflicting responses to him would fuck with his head.

So, Emily and I headed into the interrogation room, letting the door to the mirror room close before Scobie could see Hotch, JJ, or Dana standing behind the glass.

“Where’s my lawyer?” he asked.

“We called him,” Emily answered. Not true. He technically hadn’t invoked yet, so we were just waiting for him to actually say that he wanted counsel. “He’s on his way. Actually—You know what, Y/N?” I cocked a brow. “Maybe we should just let him tell his client about the Piano Man investigation. What do you think?” I shrugged. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll do that. Sorry to bother you.” Emily moved to the door, holding it open for me.

“The what?”

“The Piano Man. You might have read about him in the paper.”

“You think I’m him?”

There was our in. Emily slowly ushered me back into the interrogation room, closing the door again behind us. As she said, “No, I don’t,” she pulled out a chair for me to sit in, and I did so obediently. “Well, we don’t,” she clarified while sitting next to me. “The problem is that there are other people out there who think that the way you treat your dates is a little similar to this guy. Some guys like it rough. In fact—” Emily stopped herself with a chuckle. “No… Never mind…” I blushed as part of the game, and hid my face away from him and her, earning a playful chuckle from her. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“No, go ahead,” he insisted.

“No, we can’t.”

I bit my lip and continued to blush.

“Maybe you already did,” he said. “I can tell that you’re like me… You know… Rough.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Well, maybe the three of us. But out there, people don’t understand.”

“I agree,” Emily said. “They just don’t get it. But I do. I know that it’s easy and fun to lose control. So… did you? You know, did you ever get a little too rough?”

“Never.”

“Never?”

My blush faded.

“Never.”

“What about those naughty girls that came back for seconds?”

“What about them?”

“They’re the ones making the most noise. What I need from you is a reason to kick them to the curb, because we just want to help get you out of here, to prove that you did nothing wrong.”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Look at the notches on their bedposts. You think they’re innocent?” He eyed me up and down. “Are any of you ever innocent?”

Emily leaned back, slyly keeping her distance from him, and she casually chuckled. “Good one.”

“Besides… Nobody ever believes a slut who cries wolf. Right?” He continued to stare at me. “You would’ve liked being rough, too.” I didn’t say anything to give into his fantasy. “I know you like it. Don’t deny it.”

What the fuck? That motherfucker!

“What did you just say to me?” I questioned sternly. “You son of a—”

The door opened to reveal Hotch who was there to say, “Out. This is over.”

Something within me snapped. I felt this sudden urge to start crying, but I couldn’t let myself break in front of him. Not when we had come so far. So, I swallowed every overwhelming feeling that was crashing through me long enough to push my seat back and calmly hurry out of the room without saying another word or giving Emily a heads up.

When we broke into the mirror room, the door slamming behind us, I saw Dana crying in JJ’s arms while hyperventilating. Through cracked words that just couldn’t seem to leave my lips, I asked what happened. JJ explained the wolf comment triggered her. Hotch ordered JJ to take Dana back to the boardroom and to get her some water to help her calm down.

When they were gone, that was when Hotch grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. I sucked in a shallow breath and screwed my eyes shut.

“What is it?”

“How does he know?” I asked quietly. A sob was building in my chest even though I didn’t know how or why.

“What?”

“How— How does he know all of the right songs to play and the right things to say?”

“What are you talking about?”

He knew that playing all of those songs while attacking his victims again was a perfect way to retraumatize them all over again, and now they all had mantras—which he proved came from him during that interview. But what I didn’t expect was that last part. I didn’t expect that he would turn to me and know exactly what to say to make me relive that night all over again. It had been years since that night in high school. Sure, there were times when I would have a nightmare, or I’d see flashes of his face, or feel like he was whispering in my ear… But every time that happened, I was able to turn to Hotch, hold him in my arms, and relax. I could forget because I had the love of my life. And then that man looked me in the eye and said: “I know you like it. Don’t deny it.” Something suddenly snapped inside of me. It was an involuntary response. Again, I wasn’t sure how or why, but I knew that him repeating those same words spoken to me years ago somehow managed to break me.

I shivered against Hotch’s touch. “I think I lied.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I buried my face in his chest. “I didn’t think it would get to me—but he did. He got to me, Aaron. I’m so sorry. I thought I could handle it.”

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He winged his arms around me, holding me close as I started to cry against him. “Just breathe.” But I couldn’t, though, so I just grabbed onto his suit jacket and held on for dear life as I kept crying. “We’ve got a positive I.D. It’s over. We can go home, and we can talk about this, forget about this, whatever. It’s going to be okay. You caught him, just like you said you would.”

Yeah, after I was a fucking mess the whole case and couldn’t even listen to the survivor’s testimonial when she came back in to admit she remembered more than she originally let on. I technically failed at my job. Hotch assigned me to lead this case, and instead of stepping up to the plate like I had done every single day while he was halfway across the world, I slowly fell apart until there was nothing left of me except that scared high schooler who felt entirely trapped and alone that summer after it happened.

“Why don’t you go take a breather outside while we wrap up the case officially and I reach out to the D.A. to help them build an airtight case.”

I sucked in a deep and shaky breath. “Okay.”

Hotch kissed the top of my head. “You’re here with me, and I love you more than anything in the world. You’re here with me, and I will protect you from anything and anyone who would ever want to harm you again. Do you know that?”

“I know.”

He hugged me as tight as he could for a short second, then he let me go entirely. As he took a step back, he lifted my chin with his thumb, and using his other hand, he carefully wiped my tears away. “I. Love. You.”

I kissed his fingers as they drifted to my other cheek. “I love you, too.”

“Go catch your breath. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

I nodded and began stepping around him, heading towards the door with my head lowered so that no one could see my red and puffy face. When I stepped outside, I took in a deep breath of fresh air, letting the wind blow past me and through my hair. I let out a heavy sigh.

And then the door opened again. I looked up, half expecting Hotch to be there, but I was shocked to see that it was Emily. I didn’t say anything to her. I looked down at the concrete and slumped against the wall. After taking a moment to watch me from a distance, Prentiss decided to lean against the wall with me, too. No one said anything for a bit. We just stood there in silence, listening to the different cars as they drove by, and how the birds were chirping on a seemingly normal day. And then the silence broke.

“Hey, why’d you freak out like that?”

I quickly glanced at her, shocked that she was so forward. But then I realized just how off I was, and that if I were in her shoes, I would have been worried, too. So, I answered. Kinda. “It’s nothing, Em. It just got intense in there.”

Honestly, there were only a handful of people who knew the truth about what happened to me. Before joining the BAU, I was the only person who knew. But since joining and since the Fisher King practically ruined the secret, I had to fess up to Morgan. Once Morgan found out, he spent forever trying to convince me that telling Hotch the truth was the right thing to do, and I eventually believed him. When I went to Hotch, he told me that he already knew the truth because Garcia went digging. So, at least three people on the team knew the whole truth. As for everyone else… Well, Elle, Reid, JJ, and Gideon were only told that the photos were just images of me topless at a party. That was it. But Rossi and Emily hadn’t been around at the time, so they didn’t know any of it, and I was completely fine with keeping it that way.

But Emily could still sense that something was wrong. “Y/N, I don’t want to live with regret for not knowing you or for making you feel like you can’t be open with me. This second chance we have should be to recognize that it’s okay to talk to each other.” She shuffled on the balls of her feet. “I think that I have a clue as to what’s going on, but I think that it’s important if you’re just honest with me.”

“So, do you think it’s important to be more honest with your therapist, too, then?” I snipped.

She backed down, even though regret was immediately washing over me, and I was trying to find a way to apologize. “Okay… I, um… Well, I’ll be here if you’re ever ready to talk about—”

“Em, I’m sorry. I just—It’s not you, I swear. It’s just hard to tell people the truth and to explain it. At least with the others on the team, they know part of the story, so it would be somewhat easy to explain, but you don’t know any of it, which means that the truth is going to hit you like a train, and I don’t want to do that to you.”

“I can take it, Y/N.”

I searched her eyes for a moment. Even though I knew that it was true, I was still hesitant to unload all of this on her. But Emily Prentiss was just stubborn as I was. I knew that she wasn’t going to let this go, even if she insisted. So, I decided to tell her the truth. The whole truth.

Afterwards, while she turned and calmly pulled me into an embrace and I hid my face in her shoulder, the door opened again and Hotch stepped out to tell us that there was a problem. Reid, JJ, and Morgan found out that Scobie was too young to be the Piano Man, which meant that he was being set up. Scobie was just a copycat.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. I quickly pushed past both of them and hurried into the boardroom to ask Rossi what we knew now that changed the whole fucking profile.

“His music taste,” he explained to me.

I squinted at him. “His music taste? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Reid, Morgan, and JJ have been tearing his house apart for evidence proving that he’s the Piano Man—maybe trophies, or even the piano wire he used to hurt them. While they were there, they noticed that all of his music taste is heavy metal. He doesn’t own a single piano ballad.”

Angrily, I turned and threw some of the papers on the desk at the wall. “Fuck!” I kicked the wall, then bit my lip to ignore the wince that left me when it hurt like a bitch. “Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, defeated. “Fuck.” I looked up at him just as Hotch and Emily came in. “How can he not be the Piano Man? We found the gloves, we know he pulled their medical record after the first attacks, and he even repeated Dana’s mantra after she was attacked the second time—” I froze. God fucking dammit. How did we miss that? “Fuck,” I whispered again. “He’s not the Piano Man.” I looked at Hotch. He obviously knew that, so he just shrugged, trying to see where I was going with this. “He’s not a copycat. He’s a doppelganger.” He shrugged again. “He has to know who the Piano Man is if he was able to mimic the attacks.”

That was when it dawned on Hotch. “Prentiss and I will handle it.”

“His lawyer just got here, Aaron, you’re not going to get anything out of him,” Rossi said.

“He’ll talk when he finds out that he’s being set up by the Piano Man. Just like Mill Creek. Right?”

This time, it was my turn to shrug. So, with nothing else to be said, Hotch and Emily left the boardroom again to go talk to Scobie, but this time I followed. I knew that I couldn’t go back into the interrogation room, but I could at least watch from the mirror room. That wasn’t so bad. It was like watching a dangerous animal from behind glass at the zoo.

Scobie’s lawyer groaned when he saw two federal agents coming back into the room. “My client has nothing to say.”

“Good,” Hotch said. “We’d rather he just listen, anyway.”

Sometimes I really wondered what Hotch was like as a prosecutor; but then there were moments like this, or in court for the Matloff trial a couple of years ago, and I realized that if I would have known him then, we would have never gone to work because he would have been too busy keeping my hands off of him. Not that he didn’t already struggle with that. The two of us were incredibly handsy people—our love language was clearly touch—but we at least had enough restraint to save it for when we weren’t working.

“You’re going away for rape, there’s no doubt about it. The question is whether you’ll let your competition hang Vanessa Campbell’s murder on you, too.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Scobie defended calmly. “I didn’t even touch her.”

“From what you’ve told us, we know exactly what you think of women—especially survivors.”

That caught my attention. That was the first time throughout this whole case that I had heard him use the word “survivors” instead of “victims”. He had heard me last night. Even though I was a mess, and we had a long night after talking, he heard that one complaint, and he fixed it. All I could think about was to thank him. Just a defeated, simple “thank you” to let him know that I appreciated that small gesture. It probably didn’t mean anything to him, but it meant the world to me.

“But we know that you don’t think that they’re worth killing. You would rather that they live with what you’ve done to them. So, you didn’t kill Vanessa. In fact, we don’t even think you raped her. But if you don’t want to go away for her murder, you need to tell us who he is or how to find him.”

Scobie didn’t say anything.

Emily jumped in this time. “How do you think we found you? Just like you, he’s going back to his old victims. Only, with Vanessa, he wanted it to make it look like it was you and not him, so he shoved a piece of Neoprene down her throat. That’s how we got you. He’s not on your side, Herman, and he’s not going to protect you. He’s going to make sure you go away for all twelve assault counts and the single murder count. But if you help us right now, you’ll only have four counts of rape.”

“I need to discuss this with my client,” the lawyer insisted.

Hotch shook his head. “No. He talks to us now, or he takes his chances with a jury.”

“I don’t know who he is,” Scobie immediately said. “I just read about what he did in the hospital and insurance records. The weird thing, though, was that I had two chicks picked out to do next. I was going to start with Vanessa, but he got to her first.”

“Who was the other one?”

“Regina Lampert.”

I immediately grabbed my phone and dialed Garcia’s number to have her get in touch with Regina Lampert. We needed to get to her before the Piano Man. So, while Garcia started calling every number Regina had, Hotch and Emily came out of the interrogation room. Garcia let out an annoyed groan in my ear.

“What is it?” I asked, putting the call on speaker.

“She’s not picking up,” she said.

“Keep trying.”

“I am.”

“Garcia, we need a home address or workplace,” Hotch ordered.

“Well, she only works nights at a bar…” She drifted her words as she got lost in thought, then hesitated. “Oh?”

“Oh?” I questioned.

“I found something. I’m sending it to your phone right now.”

Just as the notification buzzed, I opened it. There was security footage from Regina’s work the other night where she went to go confront the man playing the piano.

“He’s taunting her,” Emily said.

“And she knows it, too. Look at her behavior around her versus otherwise,” Hotch said.

We watched as Regina kept her posture strong and tall when she was around him, but the second she was away, her face towards the camera, we saw her break down somewhat. She knew that it was him. He had probably been playing her trigger song at the time, which was why she confronted him, and now it was all coming back to her. Then, come closing time, she actually left with him—but she didn’t look scared anymore. In fact, she was smirking.

“She set herself up as bait,” I whispered.

“His name’s Hamilton Bartholomew,” Garcia began, “and… his wife reported him missing yesterday.”

“Regina knows that he’s her attacker, so she took him before he could take her.”

Hotch looked through the glass to watch as Scobie panicked in his own skin, then he looked back at the security footage on my phone. “Garcia, pull Regina’s rape kit. They found a fingerprint on her glasses after her attack. Compare the fingerprint to Bartholomew’s, please.” Hotch looked at me. “You sure you want to go with us?”

I rolled my eyes at him while thanking Garcia for her help and turned to leave the mirror room. Reid, Morgan, and JJ were back, already pulling their vests off, but I stopped them and let them know that we were headed to Regina Lampert’s house. In the case that the Piano Man was really there, we needed to be prepared. Otherwise, we would just bring her into protective custody. The three of them re-strapped their vests, then Morgan threw mine at me.

I didn’t ride with Hotch this time around. After my meltdown earlier, I didn’t need him to coddle me or ask a thousand questions about whether or not I was alright. I wasn’t alright. But I would be.

Emily got the call from Garcia in the car while I was driving her and Morgan. We got a hit on Hamilton’s DNA matching the Piano Man’s on Regina’s glasses. I started going faster.

At Regina’s house, while I was assigning positions again, just like at Scobie’s house, we heard a gunshot rang. Hotch made the call before I could. Everyone started racing inside behind SWAT, trying to figure out where the shot came from and who shot it. Hotch stepped in my way every time I rushed into another room with my weapon raised, and every time I tried to clear a corner. I groaned at him before turning around and running away from him. He tried to catch up, but by the time he did, he crashed into me in the kitchen where I found Regina standing over Hamilton, pointing a gun at his forehead.

“I got him! I caught him!” she cheered. “This is the Piano Man!”

“No, I’m not! This woman’s crazy!” he cried on the floor. “Please, you’ve gotta help me!”

“Regina, look at me,” I pleaded with her. “Please. Look at me.” When she did, I said, “Drop the gun.”

“I can’t,” she answered while looking back down at him. “I’ve waited five years for this.”

“I know. I know, Regina. I know what that feels like.”

Her gaze snapped back to me.

“Try eleven years, Regina. Eleven. But you don’t see me waving a gun in his face because there are better ways to go about this. I promise.”

The rest of the team came running in, ruining the rapport I had been building with her while she was focused on me and not Hamilton. I cursed under my breath. Hotch should’ve held them back, but he was too concerned about me to just fucking—I’d be mad about it later.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, moving her finger for the trigger.

“Regina!” Emily exclaimed. “Regina, we ran the rape kit to match his DNA, and it’s not him.”

She froze. “What?”

“He’s not the Piano Man. You have the wrong guy.”

“That’s impossible. That’s him. I know it is.”

“If you pull that trigger, you’re gonna kill an innocent man. Drop the gun.”

Regina whimpered as she realized what she had done, and she quickly elected to drop the weapon like we asked her to. Morgan hurried over to pick it up. While he moved out of the way and Emily went to restrain Regina for the next part, I leaned over to help Hamilton to his feet. Hotch held out his cuffs for me. For a moment, I hesitated. I had my own cuffs, and I was capable of making the arrest on my own… Why was he… And then I saw the plea on his face. He wanted me to make the arrest, but he wanted it to be an apology, too. He was sorry for being overprotective when I clearly didn’t need it, he was sorry for all of the lies, he was sorry for what happened to me long before he met me, and he was sorry for acting weird during this case. So, I took the cuffs and silently thanked him.

“Hamilton Bartholomew, you’re under the arrest for the rapes of twelve women and the murder of Vanessa Campbell,” I said while cuffing him. His face immediately dropped as his entire world flipped on its head. I made sure to tighten the cuffs until they hurt. “Asshole.” And then I started reading him his Miranda Rights.

----

When we got back to Virginia, the team headed back to the office to grab some work that had been left around before we left, and to make sure that they had everything from their go-bags so that they could replace them tomorrow. While everyone packed up, I sat down at my desk when I saw that Hotch was just sitting in his office, already nose deep in paperwork. He didn’t seem to be in any rush. I checked my watch to look at the time. It was too late to go anywhere fancy, but there was still time to head to our favorite diner… Or maybe we could just go home and eat something there. Since it was so late, Jack and Scarlet were still at Jessica’s house, which meant that we had the whole house to ourselves. I thought Hotch would’ve been jumping at the chance. He must have forgotten. It was Valentine’s Day, and he forgot. Great.

“Hey. I know that Hotch looks busy up there… on Valentine’s Day… Us loners on the team are heading out for drinks, if you want to come. Hang out with the cool kings like old times,” he teased. I smiled lightly at him before looking back at Hotch. “Hey, sunshine,” Morgan caught my attention again, “I’m sure he didn’t forget. Just come drink with us for a bit.”

“I don’t think—”

“Come on, your three children can afford to not see you for a couple more hours.”

“Three?” I raised a brow. Either he miscalculated or I forgot something very important about myself.

Morgan chuckled and nodded. “You know; Jack, Scar, and Hotch. Three.”

I chuckled with him, “Touché.” My face fell flat again as I turned back to Hotch’s office windows to gauge what he was doing. He seemed so distracted with work, not at all in a rush to sweep me off to somewhere secret and romantic. He really did forget. “Alright,” I answered Morgan’s offer. “Just a few drinks.”

I stood with my things. As we started walking out of the bullpen, Morgan threw his arms across my shoulders, pulling me in for a friendly, reassuring hug. I needed it. While I was putting on a brave face and was trying to feign excitement about going out with the team, I really thought that Hotch and I were going to do something special for Valentine’s. I knew that we had been too tangled up in the case for a reservation somewhere nice. I knew that he was still worried about my reaction after interrogating Scobie, but… I would’ve subbed for him. I trusted him and loved him. I would have done that for our fifth Valentine’s together.

I tried to forget about it all when we stepped into the bar. Rossi had insisted on paying for everyone, so Morgan and I started competing to see who could drink more—which was a helpful way to forget about how sad I was that my own fucking husband forgot what day it was. At least it wasn’t my birthday. Or maybe even our anniversary. But still… It was Valentine’s… How could he forget that?

I drank again.

Emily joined in once she heard about our little competition, but Rossi and Reid stayed out of it. Rossi was gently sipping on a scotch while eyeing a group of women across the bar, probably searching for the fourth Mrs. Rossi. Reid, on the other hand, wasn’t drinking. Well, kinda. He didn’t exactly “drink” like we did, but Rossi got him a soda.

“So, Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Rossi began. I nodded while picking up my drink. “Why are you here with us instead of ‘training’ with Hotch?”

“Training?” Prentiss inquired before downing another shot.

“Oh, yeah.” Rossi smirked. “They call it jogging; I call it catching them doing it in the car after they’ve jogged all morning.” I nearly spit out my drink. Everyone else laughed along with Rossi. “I’m never going back to that park, I swear it,” he said through his laughs.

I kicked Morgan’s shin under the table to make him stop laughing, but that only seemed to encourage it more.

Suddenly, the door of the bar flew open, letting in the cold winter air, making me shiver. I silently cursed which ever asshole it was that was just standing there. But then the door still didn’t close. I rolled my eyes and sat up straight to look around the back of the booth and yell at whoever it was, but then I stopped when I realized. Hotch. He was standing there, wet and freezing from the rain, holding a bouquet of roses while anxiously glancing around the bar in search of me. Holy shit.

I stood on the seat of the booth, then jumped over the back. Everyone at the table stopped talking to watch what I was doing. Hotch only noticed me when I was running at him, my arms open wide for a hug, and he finally let the door close behind him so that he could catch me. I jumped into his arms. Hotch immediately started kissing me, towering over me when I fell back with the passion he gave me. My back nearly fucking broke before he let up.

“I am… so, so, so, so, so, so—”

“Aaron,” I interrupted his ramble before he could keep going all night.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m such a freakin’ idiot.”

“No, you’re not.” I shook my head.

“I swear, I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Mmm…” I slid my hands up his chest. “Well, I still haven’t claimed my prize for winning our jog yesterday…”

Hotch smirked and held my chin up with his fingers. “You’re right. You wanna cash in the win?”

I nodded and bit my lip. “More than anything.”

He leaned down slowly and kissed me. “Okay.” He kissed me again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too…” I flung my arms around his neck and let him hold me close for a moment as we continued to kiss passionately, hardly pulling back for air.

The team, still sitting at the table behind us, started whistling and cheering us on. Hotch and I finally parted completely, separating and turning so that we could look at the team, both of us glowing a bright pink with a blush. Rossi raised his cup at us.

“Go train, you two!” Emily teased. Morgan held her bicep as he almost toppled over with laughter. “Happy Valentine’s, or whatever. Don’t make it a free show next time.”

“She’s got a point,” Garcia added.

Hotch spun me around and gently pushed me towards the door. “Goodnight, you guys. Don’t get too drunk.”

“You are three drinks too late, my friend,” Rossi replied.

Hotch caught my waist as I pushed on the doors of the bar and stepped out into the cold Virginian winter air. I laughed as I fell against him. He lifted me slightly and pulled me close before spinning us around in a circle. I laughed harder and started hitting gently at his hands to force him to let go of me, but he did no such thing. It wasn’t until someone else came out of the bar that he relented. I stumbled on my feet, then turned to face him. I held his face in my hands, staring at how handsome he was in the moonlight, and how I loved him more than anything in the world, and that I would literally die for him if I had to. I never felt like that with anyone else before. I mean, there was one person that I had loved before him, but this was… real… This was infinite. It felt like being at home and being endlessly safe when I was in his arms and looking at him. How did I get so lucky?

“Are you going to stare all night or are we going to head home?” he whispered.

“Little bit of both.”

He chuckled. “I love you, Y/N Hotchner.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

And then we kissed again.

-----------

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel @peggy1999 @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc @Braty-angel

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut

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hybridfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Owner Training - 9

- Lonely Kitten -

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he’s jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he’d worried he’d pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

“Work?” he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, kay?”

He hums and smacks his lips. “Don’t stay too late. You’ve been working too much.”

He had a point. You’ve already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

“I won’t. Today should be an easy day.”

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

“Promise?”

“Sure, baby. I promise. Love you.”

“Love,” is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You’d gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you’d find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn’t even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn’t even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you’d brought it up at your last review, you’d been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you’d been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they’d hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn’t know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

“L/N, I’m going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks,” Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he’d just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)

You’d get out of here eventually. Somehow. For now, you simply pull the packets closer and get to work.

Yoongi is going to kill you.

****

When you arrive home and finally kick off your heels with a happy sigh, it suddenly hits you that your apartment is silent. No TV, no booming rap music, not even the blessed sounds of cooking that your empty stomach had been looking forward to.

“Yoongi?”

“Nice of you to join us.”

You jump as he mumbles the words, finally pinpointing him in the corner of the dining room. He’s lounging in one of the chairs with his arms folded, his eyes screaming his disappointment.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“Late, she says. It’s past midnight,” he scoffs.

“I know! I was going to leave earlier but I got stuck with some extra work.”

“You promised.”

His tone hurts you and you feel horrible.

He reaches out his hand, looking you dead in the eye...and pushes your vase of wildflowers right onto the floor.

The glasses crashes everywhere and he merely sits back and looks at the mess with a slight smirk.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

He shrugs. “It was in my way.”

“Why do you... aw hell ,” you whisper, feeling tears well in your eyes.

Suddenly, he leans foreword, looking at you with alarm. “Why the fuck are you crying? No, wait , stop that.”

“I’m so so-sorry,” you hiccup, as your tears turn to wails. “I’m a horrible person and a horrible girlfriend. I can’t do anything right. I’m a failure.”

Yoongi rushes to you and crouches down, pulling you into his chest.

“No, you’re amazing. The best. I’m just throwing a tantrum like a baby because I miss you. I’m sorry, I’ll be better,” he croons, petting your back frantically in an attempt to comfort you.

You lean into his touch and let yourself cry until chest and throat throb in pain too much to continue. Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Better?” me mutters, and you nod your head, finally looking up at him. His eyes are red too, with tear tracks down his cheek. You swipe at them and he kisses your hand.

“Sorry,” you whisper hoarsely, and he shakes his head.

“No need. I’m sorry I was being a brat.”

“You have a point though. I’m never home.”

“Because you’re literally working to take care of us.”

“Yeah, but...even I know that they are working me too much. I’ve never been so stressed in my life, Yoongi. And today I had to literally watch some kid cry and be torn away from the foster family that’s been raising him since he was two weeks old and be given to his druggie mother who he’s seen once in three years. I just...how is that okay?”

“It’s not. Not everyone has as big a heart as you, love.”

You grunt and relax into his touch as he pets your hair soothingly.

“If you could find something else, what would you do?”

You consider the question. “I’m not sure. I think there’s still a part of me that desires to help and make a difference, but then there’s the me that’s been at this for awhile that isn’t sure that’s realistic. I’d still work in law, but...I don’t know. I don’t know who would actually need me.”

He hums and tilts your head up. “Want some tea?”

“Yes please,” you smile softly as he stands up and reaches out a hand to help you up.

He peeks sheepishly at the glass and gestures for you to go sit on the couch.

“I’ll clean it up”

“Seriously though, Yoongi. My vase?”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling the urge to push that off the table for a few days and I just used that as an excuse. I’ve also been eyeing the wine glass display, but I’ve held off since I actually use those,” he chuckled on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare. Bad Kitty.”

“Kinky,” he hums, then you hear the click of the electric kettle.

You wait in silence, exhausted after your outburst of emotion. Truthfully, it was probably long-due. A few minutes later Yoongi returns and hands you a mug full of lemon and ginger tea, blowing on his own mug as he settles in next to you.

“I had a thought,” he rumbles after taking a sip.

“Finally,” you snort, grinning when he pinches you.

“You never call in sick or go anywhere so you probably have a shit load of vacation time saved up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I should have at least a couple weeks worth. I usually just cash out at the end of the year.”

“Take it. Let’s go on vacation. No sense killing yourself over a job you hate, and I want to spend some time with you.”

You sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Yeah, you’re right. Where shall we go?”

He shrugs. “Jeju? I don’t know. I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere with a nice bed and I get to see you in a bikini”

You pinch him and he laughs unapologetically.

“You know I love you right? No matter how much I’m away or if we are having some stupid fight - I love you,” you ask, your voice soft and a little shy.

He picks up your free hand and places a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“I love you too, even when I’m being a brat or when you forget to pick up ice cream.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a man of refined tastes.”

****

Notes:

Why are my cats always knocking shit off my counters?

Also, I had a few requests from people who wanted to send me fanart. You can email it to me at [email protected] or tag me on here. I’d love to see it.

I think I have a twitter made but I can't remember it right now lmao. If anyone wants that I'll try to find it later.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #hybrid!bts #hybrid!yoongi #cat hybrid!yoongi #hybrid fanfiction #fanfiction #yoongi

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myrandom-fandomlife · 4 years

Text

Expect The Unexpected

JJ Maybank x Carrera! Reader

In which something unexpected happens but you and JJ make the best of it.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Vomiting, Mentions of sex, some smutty themes in there, teen pregnancy, lots and lots of fluff, angst if you squint

A/N: So this has been about 3-4 days in the making, because I hit a bit of a block the other day but then I accidentally cranked out almost 2k more words than planned. I was gonna do some heavy editing but I ended up going back and adding a whole extra part of the story so it’s heavily unedited lmao. Let me know if you like it!

Finding Out

“So, your period is late, and you have had migraines, nausea, and food cravings for the last two weeks?” Your best friend Sarah Cameron says to you, walking back from her massive en suite bathroom into her even bigger bedroom. “We need to get you a test,” She’s currently helping you figure out your situation. You think you might be pregnant. It makes sense when you start thinking back to the times you and your boyfriend, JJ, had sex to see if you could remember a time you didn’t use protection. There were a few that came to mind. The most recent being when the two of you had been making out in the hammocks and things got a little too heated. That was a month and a half ago.

Your stomach is turning from anxiety. You were only 18, and JJ 19. What would you do about school? Or Kie, your sister? Not to mention the fact that your parents would probably die. You can feel your eyes welling up but then your stomach turns and you have to rush to Sarah’s bathroom to puke for what seems like the 10th time today.

Sarah follows you, holding your hair and rubbing your back while you empty your insides into her toilet. When you’re about done she stands up to fill a small cup with water and hand it to you for you to sip on. She grabs a towel and dampens it with some warm water to dab at your sweaty face and forehead, “I’m sorry, Sarah.” You manage weakly.

“Oh, no, babes. You have nothing to be sorry for. How about you lay down on my bed while I see if I can find you a test? Want me to call JJ and see if he would come to see you?”

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot about JJ. No, don’t call him. I need to see the tests for myself first before I talk to him about it.” Sarah nods in understanding, helping you back to her bed and covering you with a blanket before leaving for what you assume is the store. Despite all you’re worried, you drift off, exhausted from puking your guts out all morning.

You wake up to the sound of Sarah clicking away on her keyboard at her desk. When she sees you sit up she turns to you, “Feeling any better? I got a couple of tests at the store, but I didn’t want to wake you when I got back.”

“A lot better actually,” Your head had stopped its incessant pounding and your stomach had settled. “Thank you for this, Sarah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You walk over to the older girl, hugging her.

“Of course, anytime. Now, you have some sticks to pee on!” She tries to brighten the mood, making you chuckle. You take a deep breath and head to the bathroom.

Wait 8 minutes and if you are pregnant, two bold pink lines will appear on the screen.

It had been 7 minutes and you were pacing around Sarah’s bedroom. “Y/N, calm down.” She grabs your arm, “Whatever the outcome, it will be okay.”

You sigh, trying to slow your breathing, “I know, I’m just anxious. Why do these tests take so long?” Just then, your 8-minute timer rings and you jump at the sudden noise, “Sarah I can’t look.”

“I’ll look with you, okay? You have to know.” She grips your arm tight as you walk to the bathroom, looking at the 3 tests on the counter. You gasp when you see six bold pink lines from all the tests.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” You walk to Sarah’s bed again, feeling like you might fall over. “Oh my god, Sarah. What am I gonna do? How am I gonna tell JJ? What will Kie, or my parents say?” You ramble, your breaths getting quicker with each word.

“Hey, hey. One thing at a time, okay?” You nod, “First thing you need to do, tell JJ. You may not want to but he needs to know, and I am pretty sure it would take a lot more than a product of your love to make him stop loving you. That boy is whipped, he’s not going anywhere. Also, if he tries to leave you Kie and I will kick his ass.”

You smile, Sarah’s words reassuring you, “Okay, you’re right. I just need the right time to tell him. My parents are going on a date tonight, so Kie is working The Wreck. I could invite him over?”

“Perfect!”

Telling JJ

You breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself about the night ahead of you. You were going to tell JJ tonight. Sarah had offered to be there but you knew this was something you had to do on your own. Luckily, your nausea had calmed down after your nap at Sarah’s and your anxiety about the situation was doing much better due to Sarah’s reassurances.

Just as you were pulling your hair into a messy bun, you hear a knock on the door. Taking one more calming breath, you go downstairs and open the door.

The blonde boy’s eyes trail up your body clad in his hoodie and short shorts, “You look so pretty in my clothes, babe.” He moves forward to wrap his arms around you, “Are you feeling better? Sarah said you were pretty sick this morning,” He presses a soft kiss to your neck, nuzzling his nose into you.

You pull away and look up at his bright blue eyes. He frowns when you leave his embrace, sensing your tension. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, J.”

You see the panic rise in him, “Oh my god, are you okay? Is something wrong? You aren’t badly sick, are you? You’re doing okay and everything? I couldn’t stand it if-”

“I’m pregnant,” You cut off his rambles and his eyes widen.

“What did you just say?”

You feel fear rising in you, “I’m pregnant,” You repeat softly.

You’re about to start crying with the silence that follows when his face breaks into a smile. “Oh my god, you’re pregnant? My baby is in you? Oh my god, baby!” He picks you up in a hug and spins you around. He must feel your tears on his shoulder because he puts you down, looking at you with concern, “Why’re you crying, princess? I mean, I know we’re young but I’ve known since before we started dating that I wanted to have a family with you. This is like a head start.”

His words make you sob, “No, it’s happy tears. I’m so relieved you’re happy. I can handle Kie and my parents and the pogues being mad, but not you. I have my first ultrasound on Friday and I want you to come. I figure we can get a few extra copies of it as our way of telling people.”

He smiles softly, “Anything for you and our little one. How are you feeling now? Are you hungry? Wanna sit down?”

You laugh at his antics, “I’m craving some spaghetti and I really wanna snuggle with my boyfriend while watching Disney movies.”

“One plate of spaghetti and a boyfriend who loves watching Tangled with his baby mama.” He winks at you, knowing your favorite Disney movie since you made him watch it on one of your first dates. He presses a kiss to your cheek, heading to the kitchen to make dinner for the two of you.

Later, when you’re lying on the couch together watching Flynn and Rapunzel launch lanterns into the sky, JJ looks at you seriously, “I don’t want to be like him.”

This makes your heart clench for the boy, “You won’t, J. I promise you won’t. You’re already nothing like them. When you met my little cousins for the first time, you were so compassionate and patient with them. That was the first time I really knew I wanted you to be the father of my children.”

He kisses your forehead, “I love you so much gorgeous, we’re in this together.”

You lay your head back on his warm chest, “I love you too, so much, J.”

Telling Everyone

Your ultrasound went well, you found out that you were 6 weeks along. JJ and you both tearing up at the sound of your baby’s heartbeat. You got a few extra copies of the ultrasound and that’s when you started getting nervous about telling your parents. About half an hour ago you had told the pogues to meet you at The Wreck where you knew your parents and sister already were. Now, you and JJ were standing outside hand in hand. He gave yours a little squeeze and you guys went inside.

“Hey guys! What’s this meeting about?” Your mom immediately asked upon you walking in.

You saw that your dad was next to her, Kie and the rest of the pogues at a table near you also looking at you. “So, I called you guys here to tell you something and I don’t want any of you to overreact, okay?” There was a chorus of agreements from your loved ones, “I called you guys here to tell you that I’m pregnant.”

You winced at the multiple gasps you heard, but you got reassuring looks from Sarah and JJ who was still holding on to your hand tight. “Before you get angry, JJ and I have decided to keep the baby and we want to raise it together.”

“Well, if you’re sure you want to keep it, then I’m not mad.” Your mom spoke first.

“I agree with your mom. Though, I need to have some words with JJ.” Your dad sent a pointed look his way, you knew it was all fun though. Your dad always had a soft spot for JJ given his home situation. He had been allowed to stay the night when it got really bad and you just knew your dad loved JJ as if he were his son.

“As long as I’m godfather, it’s cool,” came from Pope.

“Hey! No, it’s only fair that I am!” John B argued with him.

You turned toward Kiara, wanting approval from your big sister, “Kie, are you okay with this?”

She sighed, “Yeah, I’m honestly just in shock. Debating smashing JJ’s skull in, but I’m good,” But you knew she was joking because she had a huge smile on her face, “I can’t wait to be an aunt, though I’m a little disappointed you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“She only found out a few days ago,” Sarah jumped in.

“You knew before me?!” Kie was incredulous.

“Well, when she had a sleepover at my house earlier this week and was throwing up every ten minutes I was concerned so I asked her how long it had been going on. Then she told me her other symptoms so I got her a few tests,” Sarah shrugged.

Kie seems to accept it because she launches into another question, “How far along are you?”

“Well, we went and got an ultrasound today, and I’m six weeks along. I got some pictures too.” You hand the few strips of photos to your parents and the pogues to pass around.

“Ah! My first grandchild! I’m getting this framed!” Your mom exclaims with tears in her eyes.

“Aw Miss C, don’t cry! You’ll be the best grandma!” JJ wraps his arms around her making you smile.

Kie holds her arms out for a hug from you which you gladly accept, “I love you all so much. This baby is going to have the best family.”

The Baby Bump

Seven months into the pregnancy, you were ready for it to be over. Your bump was pretty big now, and your back constantly hurt. Though the morning sickness had ceased, you still got migraines, cravings, and you couldn’t sleep comfortably for the life of you. Even with JJ there, you struggled to get to sleep every night.

Now, you were putting on a bikini because the pogues were all going boating today. When you managed to get into your swimsuit, you looked in the mirror, feeling self-conscious. Your baby bump just made you feel fat. Pulling at the bottoms to try and cover your butt a little more, you frowned. You had definitely gained weight from this pregnancy.

Before you could dwell on it more, JJ came into your bedroom, donning his favorite swim trunks. He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist and pressing kisses to your neck and jaw. “You. Look. So. Hot. Right. Now.” He said in between kissing your soft skin.

“Really baby? I feel disgusting.”

“No, you look so sexy. Knowing you’re carrying my baby is even better.” He nips at your skin making your breath catch in your throat.

You could feel his hard-on starting to poke your back, “Really babe? Now? We have to leave in 15 minutes.” Despite your words, your hand reaches up to tug at his hair.

He moans into your neck, “Guess we have to be quick then, yeah?”

Baby Shower

Even though you protested, your mom, sister, and Sarah had decided to throw you a baby shower. You were about 8 months along now and so ready to have your baby. You never found out the gender, wanting it to be a surprise.

Your gender-neutral themed shower, held at The Wreck, was a success. You ate good food and played some fun games. Your friends wished you congratulations, asking to feel the bump and making small talk.

Your favorite part was the gifts, though. Your mom and dad agreed it would be best for the two of you to stay with them, at least until after college, that way everyone could help with the baby while you were getting an education. God knows you have enough rooms.

Your mom was so excited about decorating the nursery, so you weren’t surprised when she bought you a matching crib and rocking chair for the baby’s room. Sarah bought you a very nice stroller and Kie got you a nice changing table that doubled as a dresser.

You received lots of diapers and wipes, so many cute clothes, bottles, a diaper bag, and a ton of cute toys.

You, Sarah, your mom, and Kiara were cleaning up from the party when JJ arrived. You were trying to clean up some of the trash but he immediately kissed you and said, “Woah, take it, easy princess. I got this, you sit down.”

You scoff, “JJ, I’m pregnant, not dying.” You still sit down, but reluctantly. He had been acting like this around you since you guys found out, even though you told him it was okay and you could actually do more than sit down. You appreciated the gesture, a lot, but it was a little over the top. Even for JJ.

“I know, babe. I just don’t want you to be stressed. I want the next month to go as smoothly as possible for you.”

You swear your heart melted, “I get it, J. Wanna see the new baby clothes? They’re so cute!”

“Sure do, baby,” He pulls a chair up and wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead. “I love you and the baby so so much. I didn’t even think it was possible.

“I love you so so much, too. I can’t wait to have our baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, showing him the new baby items from the shower.

Labor

When you couldn’t get to sleep because of a pain in your stomach, you thought nothing of it. This had happened multiple times before where the baby was kicking too hard for you to sleep. But, when the pains kept getting worse, JJ made you go to the hospital. Your mom, dad, sister, him, and you all scrambled to get dressed in the middle of the night. When you were pulling on a pair of his sweatpants, your water broke, so it was officially go time.

You all piled in the car with the baby bag that had been packed since the day of your shower. When you arrived, they brought you to a room in a wheelchair, immediately putting you on epidural.

When you were fully dilated, it was time to start pushing. JJ was the only one allowed in the room for this part. He held your hand and let you squeeze it for the whole 2 hours but it felt like 2 minutes.

You heard the first cries of your baby and JJ saying, “It’s a girl. Princess, we have a daughter.” He sounded choked up and when the doctor let you hold her, you started crying too.

“Stella Marie Maybank,” You said softly as you looked up at JJ. You had discussed names for both genders for a long time and you were in love with the ones you picked out.

JJ took Stella from your arms to hold her himself and he looked down at you with the biggest smile on his face, “Thank you.”

“For what?” You were confused by his words, wondering what he meant.

“For this beautiful baby. For sticking by me even when I didn’t deserve it. Thank you for giving me the family I always wanted. I love you.”

“I love you too, J. So much.”

Tags: @overly-b @midnightmagicmusings

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