#maybe I should put some extra tags? this feels so empty my god

[abstract-crossverse]

so i heard you're taking doors requests... wiggles eyebrows might I request possibly Ambush x reader fluff thingy?? this is my first request so sorry if its weirdly formatted LOL

Might as well answer these both in the same post soo sure! and youre good, the format is just fine lol. I'll do headcanons for this one to get a general grip on Ambush since I just started writing for Doors

and I hope you dont mind but I headcanon Ambush as male(he/they)- I know a lot of people see them as female so just letting you know preemptively More under the cut cuz this was long again

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Ambush x Reader [Headcanons, fluff]

-> While it may not seem like it- Ambush is one of the most patient entities in the Hotel, with his speed if he were to be constantly patrolling the Hotel as his brother does- he'd come up more often than not bite a chunk out of you

-> His strategy is usually to stalk "Players" until he finds a moment he feels you feel safe enough, to then shatter that safety to pieces as he comes screeching sounding as if a car engine and a broken vacuum had a baby- then do a couple run backs through the room you're in to see if you slip up on the timing you get in and out of the closet

-> So you can imagine with you it wasn't any different, he stalked you around after you got out of the Library and left Jeff's shop. he was a bit intrigued by how far you've gotten, then again, many others survive up to 100 and go down that elevator only to wind back at the Hotel's Lobby

-> Though you were... different, I guess you could say, he didn't know how to describe it too well, the way you marched door after door, collecting money from drawers and desks- you seemed determined to get out of here, and he's seen you a few times before, you look familiar, and he's not one to forget appearances easily. he found it.. charming, to say the least, you looked so determined to leave you'd be willing to go through this nightmare again and again? He'd applaud you if he weren't trying to be sneaky

-> Then again, many others had a similar determination, but some didn't come around too often, sometimes taking months to be even spotted walking through the halls of the Hotel. but you, you came frequently. he wasn't allowed in the lobby unlike Timothy, Sally, and Seek's Crescendo(which in reality is just Hide warning his brother of where the Players are and how close they are to Seek), and none of them really mention it at all so his guesses are those people just hang around there doing whatever until they decide to run through the Hotel again

-> And since you caught his eye, you are prompted to either feel like you're being watched a lot or have Ambush come a bit more often than he usually would- which makes you joke that he's pissed off at you or get annoyed about it

-> As time went by, and a lot of him watching you from a distance- his interest in you grew into a desire to actually meet you, know who you are, your interests, your likes, pet peeves, so on. You barely bump into other Players around the Rooms and Halls you go through due to the Hotel's nature- you enter an elevator alone and it's going to be just you and you alone unless the Hotels falters and shoves you with someone else you may or may not know at all. he has no idea how the real you is like since he's only seen small comments or curses you throw at certain entities like Screech or El Goblino if you even stop for a chat

-> And so for the past few times you passed around he's been trying to muster the courage to go talk to you or ambush you when your guard is down in hopes he can catch you for a chat. He's kind of socially awkward with people he knows dont like him or have never directly talked to him so it's a bit of a struggle for him- then he ends up just impulsively charging at you, which of course prompts the little 'game' every player does to avoid him in response

-> However, on one particular day, you slipped up. you entered the closet too soon- and Hide wasn't in a good mood that day, Ambush ran the first time to the door but before he could bounce back to the previous rooms, Hide pushed you out, you hit the floor with a soft 'thump' and a groan as Ambush stood there in shock. he looked at the closet as Hide's arms slithered back into the confines of it, then looked back down at you, who had the same expression of shock and terror as you stared at him with wide eyes, face softly lit by the green and purple light he emanated. you looked beautiful...

-> You both stood in silence before he moved slightly toward you, making you close your eyes and brace yourself, waiting for death... but death never came. You opened your eyes again when you heard footsteps hit the carpet.. footsteps? Ambush doesn't have feet- peeking from behind your arms, you were shocked to see.. Ambush, but- with a body-... waht

-> He wore a light cream-colored button shirt with a dark green vest and pants, black dress shoes along with a light green ribbon to top it off. behind his head, you could see slightly translucent tentacles that seemed to mimic hair? they glowed within the darkroom along with the same.. matter making up Ambush's neck, was that what caused the glow he emanated when he bounced by?

-> He was crouched in from of you, both knees on the ground as he hovered a skeletal hand over your shaking form.. you didn't even notice you started to shake. He attempted to speak- though only his signal yell sounded for a brief moment, making you wince since he was so close to you. He cleared his throat, seeming to avert his eyes to the side briefly as his mouth closed side to side- which made sense but it still looked weird to you-

"are... are you alright?" his voice finally came through, it was hoarse and a bit scratchy, as if he'd screamed his lungs out yesterday and lost his voice, which again- makes sense with how he screams, it had a hint of a Boston accent too

"uh....-" you were speechless, wondering if you were in a dream, and even in a dream you can't escape this place? damn. he read your confused expression and averted his eyes again "it's... hard to explain.. yknow- this?" he motioned at himself "but we're not exactly corporal, so it is possible for this to happen.-- anyway- Hide- pushed you out pretty hard-..."

He offered a hand for you to get up, you stared at his hand, unsure of why he was trying to help you, you dont know if you can trust him- after all, as far as you know he's tried to kill you. "... why... why are you helping me?... aren't you supposed to have killed me by now?" you asked, fixing sitting up from the ground a bit, Ambush looked a little apprehensive, his hand twitched slightly away

".. I- I know it may be hard to believe but... you interest me.. you caught my eye, and I wanna learn more about you." you sat there confused at his words "why me though?" the room fell silent, only the faint buzzing from his form barely hitting your ears as he looked at the ground, seeming to think about your question, he shrugged a few moments later "... I can't.. explain... you're just-... interesting."

-> after that little moment, you walked to the other room that was lit so you didn't run the risk of getting yourself bit by Screech and just- talked, about anything really, though most of the conversation was you asking questions about him and the other entities, after all its not every day you get to have an actual conversation with one of these beings that usually are out to kill you. though you still expected this to turn out to be a dream, you expected to wake up in one of the beds in the hotel or back in the Lobby

-> After that day- you half expect things to go back to the usual normal of the Hotel, Rush zooming by, Screech occasionally being an annoyance, the usual. But you were surprised by Ambush tapping your shoulder at Door 2 on your next run, scared the shit out of you-

-> And it's been like that ever since, he'd tap on your shoulder every time you came back around the first 15 doors and accompany you through the rest of the run- aside when it was dark rooms, Seek's chase, or the Library- anything that involved other entities that could see him with you- he would just- vanish until you got passed them... he didn't want to risk being isolated for talking to a Player instead of killing them.. the others could even understand a little if he explained well but- if Jack got hold of that information... he might be as well as dead again

-> You've begun to enjoy his company, you'd joke around and talk about things from before you got stuck in the Hotel, and he'd occasionally drop some of his lore as well- though he doesn't remember much from before he became Ambush

-> It wasn't long before he realized he'd gotten feelings for you, love, that was it, he remembers the feeling but he didn't even know if he could still feel it... glad to get that uncovered- now difficult if going to be Confessing his love for you. as I said, his social skills are kinda below average- so it takes him a lot of hyping himself up and chickening out to figure out how to confess... meanwhile with you- you were so incredibly confused about how you fell for the alien skeleton looking entity in the first place, maybe it was his voice or the way he was so kind to you? you really didn't know-

-> The day he confessed was a day like any other, you both sat in the garden before the Greenhouse, the rain a little less aggressive than usual as it hit the roof of the pathway, sitting towards the statue you heard other Players theorize could be a representation of the Guiding Light. At the moment he was sitting beside you listening to you tell him about the mentioned theory, he softly gazed over your smaller form, resting his head in one of his hands, a smile curling up on his lips as you chatted away about theories you and other players have come up for the hotel

-> Soon you finished talking, finally looking up at him to see his reaction as you had been looking everywhere but at him as you talked. a sudden feeling of warmness overtook his body, feeling as if butterflies fluttered around his stomach the more you stared at him, as much as he wanted to look away as he got more overwhelmed with that warm, fuzzy feeling- his body made no effort to glance away, he wanted you looking at him, he craved your attention.. he wanted to hold you, he wanted to love you

-> "... god, I love you...." he blurted out, not even realizing what he said until your face grew red, then his face just glowed in a green blush, he tried to explain himself but all attempts were futile since the more he tried to speak, the more flushed he got. Eventually, he just sighed in defeat..

"... there's no out of this one... its- its true- [Name], I love you, I really do... you're just- I can barely even explain- you're perfect in every way I can think of, your voice sounds heavenly, your quirks are incredibly charming- you're the most amazing person I've ever met... I understand if-- if you dont feel the same but- I needed to get that outta my chest.." he sighed, looking at you with eyes that pleaded with you not to hate him, not to snap at him with insults and 'why would I even like a monster like you?', though he still braced for the worst

though surprise hit him full force "I... I love you too, Ambush-... I... I do, I really do..." you looked at him softly with a small smile, you spoke a bit more- feeling as if you needed to also express what made you fall for him the way you did, even though you struggled to put it into words- he only looked at you with bewilderment

You heard a small... rumbling sound, like a purr almost? but not quite at the same time, you trailed off, trying to figure out where the sound came from before you realized- it came from Ambush, you were about to ask about it but before you could, he gently leaned his forehead on yours, purr growing noticeably louder as he nuzzled into you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug

he thanked you, so many times, he sure sounded happier than ever before right now, you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him back. you sighed contently, I guess now you two were a couple.

-> And now for dating headcanons because I took too long on the meeting shit

-> He loves being in your presence, hanging around you or so much as knowing your in the next room over counts I guess

→ He's not the biggest on PDA but its often that he'll at least bw holding your hand at times in public or stand pretty close to you in general. He does get flustered really easily if you give him kisses when he doesnt expect it or is in a public setting

→ Speaking of Public, he told Rush about your relationship at the very least, and he was ecstatic, his bro finally bagged someone? Color him surprised! He didn't bag shit. Actually- a little too excited- he told most of the Hotel next you knew... Minus Jack, Jack doesn't get to know of it. None of you know what he'll do to you or Ambush if he knows..

-> Some support your relationship (such as Rush, Screech, Sally, Dupe, Jeff, and Bob), others are apprehensive of it but if it makes You and Ambush happy then so be it, they'll try to remember your face and not kill you too brutally if they can help it- (Seek, Hide, Figure, Eyes, Halt and Goblino), others dont like the idea at all either because they think it's too dangerous or you shouldn't be together in general (Guiding Light and Jack(if he knew) respectively)

-> But you bother are happy with each other and aren't going to break up any time soon I'm sure

-> While he does run very fast for a decent period of time- Ambush gets pretty bad fatigue once he's done, which is why he usually appears once and fucks off for a while to rest up after so- usually if you're not going through the Hotel and is just chilling in a room somewhere he's likely to join you for cuddles if he's not with you already, sometimes this man will just refuse to get up to hunt other Players if you're already cuddling

-> As much as he's the most logical and... less energetic between him and Rush- he's just as stubborn. need to get up to continue your run? 5 more minutes with him, cmon you've done this plenty already, take a break. need to go over to Jeff to buy some food cuz you're hungry? nope, you just stay there, Ambush will get it for you- AH AH- stay there, he'll be back in seconds. Want to go check out what the Rooms are all about-- Do Not. Please. No. Don't go there.

-> He's very touch starved and at the same time touch repulsed- only very few even get to tap his shoulder without him flinching away and getting upset at them or getting straight-up killed(if you're a random player with no links with him), so if you want to give him Physical affection- tell him you want to(at least at the start of your relationship), it's fine when he's consensual about the contact or initiates it in the first place. Later on, he gets more comfortable with you and he'll accept you initiating contact without needing to ask all the time

-> He also enjoys laying on you when cuddling as you gently caress his face or his head, it fills him with so many butterflies you have no idea. and he'll return the favor in kisses and do the same to you when it's your turn to lay on him, also give him kisses while holding his face in your hands, and he will melt /pos

-> He's also very attentive to detail, he'll remember the tiniest of things about you and your likes and what you dont like and use that to get you gifts from either players he killed that had something you liked or random trinkets he thinks you'd like that spawn around the Hotel at times

-> He's also very interested in fashion, he knows quite a bit about color theory and clothing combos so if you dont know what to wear, he's the guy you can count on to help you. Just give him a general vibe you're aiming towards and he'll do his best to find good options for you around that. He also learned how to tailor outfits with Glitch, the perks of being one of the oldest entities of the Hotel, he will make you an outfit do not test him

-> Remember when I mentioned the tentacle thingies on the back of his head? yeah those act like hair, they feel smooth and a bit rubbery and act like how Splatoon hair works, you can cut it, braid it, tie it up, anything- it has no pain receptors so he wouldn't feel pain if you cut it or tied it too tight, though it still kinda moves with his emotions or just idly

-> He loves you a lot, and he's glad you choose to stay with him. he promises he'll try his best to make you happy :]

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#roblox doors #doors roblox #doors ambush #ambush doors #doors x reader #ambush x reader #maskwrites #anon #headcanons #maybe I should put some extra tags? this feels so empty my god #idk. I have no idea what to write more here #hope you enjoyed the headcanons!

[nichuuu]

Yeowooya

Tags: Smut, creampie, facial, handjob, teasing, subby joy, doggy, riding, fluff(?) Word count: 6k++

The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty office. Your eyes throbbed in their sockets, begging you for some sort of rest from your computer screen. The minute hand of the clock was slowly approaching the 12 mark on the clock, it would be 1 am soon. Regardless, you were determined to put in those extra hours and finish this damn proposal. With a sip of some extra strong coffee, you let the caffeine take over your senses. You mindlessly typed away, words appearing on the document faster than your mind could process. 

Your teammates had gone out drinking again. Unlike them, you had a sense of responsibility in you, so you were the one who stayed to finish the last leg of the proposal. While your so-called “teammates” were busy celebrating god knows what, you were slaving away in your space, fingers achy and joints sore. 

“Wow… Hard working as ever…” 

You looked up. A familiar face smiled back at you over the cubicle.

“Not now Soo-young,” You huffed, looking back at your screen. From your peripheral vision, you saw the woman pout. 

“Aw… Why so grumpy?” She teased you. You glared at her. 

“I said: Not now,” You repeated yourself. Joy rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” She sighed. Her head disappeared behind the wall of your prison, re-appearing from the entrance to your cubicle. 

“Is it me? Or does this place get messier and messier each time I visit?” She mused.

“Keep your hands off my shit,” You warned her, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’ll do what I please, thank you.”

You heard her rummaging through some papers on your desk. You wanted to whip around and just let her have it right there, but you were so close to completing your task. Forcing yourself to stay laser focused, you pushed yourself a little more. Your fingers moved faster, the frequency of the clacking increasing. At some point, you felt Soo-young looking over your shoulder, watching silently as words appeared on screen. Then she went back to poke her nose into the papers on your desk. 

“Damn… This paper was dated 2 years ago!” You heard her mutter. “He really needs to sort his shit out…”

More rustling came from behind you. You were on the final stretch now, just a few more sentences left. You could feel your heart beating faster in excitement as you made your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

Alas, you typed out the final word. A rather loud yell of victory left your mouth as you saved your work. You crashed back in your chair, feeling more relieved than you’d ever had before. 

“Oh my god… Never again…” You grimaced, massaging your tired eyes. 

“This all seems like a you problem not gonna lie,” Joy chimed in. You opened your eyes. 

“Joy… Please shut the fuck up,” You requested. In response, she dragged your chair out and spun you in a circle. You yelped, quickly planting your feet down in the ground to stop yourself. God forbid those 4 cups of coffee came out of you.

“You’re done with your work! Stop being a grumpy old fart!” Soo-young reminded you. You sighed. 

“Stop nagging. You remind me of my Eomma,” You told her. She scoffed. 

“Maybe you should take better care of yourself. That way I can stop taking care of you like you’re a little kid,” Joy retorted. You wanted to argue against her statement, but she had a fair point.

“Fair enough,” You relented. 

“That’s what I thought bitch boy,” She sneered playfully. You chuckled.

You weren’t sure how to describe your relationship with Soo-young. You started off as complete strangers to each other, strangers that worked 2 desks away and always seemed to go to the same spot for lunch everyday. One fine day, she sat down next to you in the middle of a meeting—she was half an hour late—and introduced herself to you. You spent the long hours of the meeting entertaining yourselves in hushed, clandestine conversations, stopping only when your boss turned back to face the zombie crowd. At the end, you made yourself a new friend and exchanged numbers with her. 

Months passed. You got closer to Soo-young, close enough to call her what all her friends called her.

“They call me Joy,” She told you one morning over some doughnuts and coffee. 

“Joy?” You mused. She shrugged. 

“Yea… I never really understood why, but the name stuck.”

You would come to understand why with time. She truly lived up to her namesake, her bright, contagious smile and her amusing personality making her a true Joy to be around. You liked her company, it made the office feel like less of a slave plantation. 

Your relationship with her was simple up til Christmas day. She invited you back to her place for a couple of drinks after an office party, and you gladly obliged. A few jokes, some snacks and quite a few glasses of wine later, your clothes were discarded together with Joy’s and you were taking her against the window of her apartment. After your fling with her that night, you two made a mutual agreement: What happened would be a one time thing. You were friends, simple as that.

However, neither of you really kept to the first part of the agreement. It was broken just a few weeks after when Joy pulled you into a storage room and sucked your cock.The she proceeded to take your cock up her pussy, your hand clasped around her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her moans. You broke the agreement two months later, guiding her away from the poolside party at a friends house, ripping her bikini off her and fucking her senseless in the guest bathroom. Since then, sex with Joy happened almost on a weekly basis—sometimes a monthly basis if you two were really busy. No real feelings had manifested for Joy, and Joy certainly didn't seem interested to enter a relationship with you of all people. Hence, the two of you declared yourselves friends with benefits.

“Why are you still in the office?” You asked Joy, powering off your monitor. Soo-young sighed.

“Had to file my team’s paperwork again…” She lamented. “I really hate these slackers.”

“Same here,” You chuckled bitterly. “I just keep saving their asses over and over again while they go out drinking every other night… Ridiculous if you ask me.”

Joy laughed, clearly sharing a common sentiment. 

“Should’ve just shredded all the papers… Let those fucks rot for all I care,” Joy mused. 

“We’re on the last leg of the proposal submissions… Presentations are tomorrow,”  You reminded her. Joy nodded. 

“Yep… Which is exactly why I plan on calling in sick tomorrow,” She said. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Why?” 

Joy scoffed. 

“We’re the same. We both stay for long hours in the office saving our team’s asses, but we get zero recognition at the end of it all cause it’s a ‘group effort’,” Joy lamented. “I’ve been doing all the work. I want to see how they pitch the proposal without me tomorrow.”

You smirked. 

“You’re more cunning than I thought,” You mused. She winked. 

“I’ve got lots of ideas up here,” She said, tapping her head. “You know, maybe you should call in sick tomorrow too…”

You shook your head. 

“As much as I want to let my team burn to the ground, I don’t see myself doing that,” You told her honestly. Joy groaned.

“Oh my god! You and your morals!” She sighed. “Have a little fun! You certainly seem to be able to put aside your little moral compass when we fuck.”

“But that’s because… Because… Uh…” You struggled to argue. 

“Because what huh?” Joy pressed. “Because you like using my tight little body and ravishing my ass? Is that it?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t want to let her win just like that. 

“And what if that is the reason? What are you gonna do, Joy?” You challenged her. Joy stared at you for a moment. Her brows furrowed, visibly deep in thought. 

“Alright then,” She finally said after some time. “If that really is the reason… I pitch you an offer.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Let’s hear it.”

Joy leaned against your desk.

“If you call in sick with me tomorrow, I’ll let you fuck me tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing there’s a catch?” You prompted. She grinned. 

“But of course,” She replied. “If you fuck me tonight. You have to come to the beach with me tomorrow.” 

“That sounds like more of a win for me,” You told her bluntly. 

“It’s a win-win for the two of us,” She explained. “You get to fuck me and go to the beach—I get to screw over both our teams, get railed and go to the beach. Simple.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. In truth, you had your answer ready for quite some time. 

“So?” Joy urged. 

“I accept your offer,” You answered. Joy grinned. 

“Perfect,” She said. “Now get your shit and let’s go. All this talk about sex has me aching for your cock.”

As she turned to leave, you grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You asked. Joy raised an eyebrow.

“My my… Getting mischievous aren’t you?” She teased. 

“Well… Like you said: I can set aside my moral compass when it comes to fucking you.”

Joy smiled that lustful smile. 

“So are you just gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?” 

In a flash, you were up on your feet, her tight frame in your arms and her lips on yours. Her hands touched your chest, your own hands on her ass.

“I know the pin to my boss’s office…” Joy whispered. “She has a couch in there.”

A sly grin made its way up your face. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked. Joy giggled. She grabbed your hand, hurriedly pulling you towards the direction of her boss’s office.

Looks like your night was far from over.

You ran to that office with Joy like it was an emergency. Once there, Joy hurriedly punched in the numbers. A series of beeps, a green flash and Joy threw open the door, pulling you in with her.

“Any cameras in here?” You asked her. 

“Nope,” She replied confidently. “Funnily enough, the CEO turns off all the cameras at night to save money on electricity. That’s why we have so many security guards.”

“That sounds oddly convenient,” You mused.

You found a light switch and flipped it on. The room filled with warm light, revealing the spacious office that was at your disposal.

“Christ. Just shut up and undress me already,” Joy huffed. She moved to unbutton your shirt, and you did the same. The lacy fabric of her bra slowly became more and more visible with each button that came undone, heightening your excitement and making your cock twitch wildly in your pants.

Joy tugged at your pants.

“Get this off,” She whispered. You gladly undid your belt and unbuckled your trousers. They fell with a ‘thump’, pooling around your ankles and exposing the very apparent bulge in your underwear. Joy got her skirt off, making quick work of the article of clothing and tossing it to a side.

“Come here,” She said. She captured your lips, hands hooking the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You jolted a little when you felt the coolness of her palm against your shaft, but quickly adjusted, relishing the small sparks of pleasure when she stroked your length slowly. Your lips parted with hers, your eyes drinking in Joy’s curvaceous body.

“The usual?” She asked, toying with the tip of your cock.

“You pick,” You told her. There was a gleam in Joy’s eyes as she placed a finger on her lips, deep in thought. 

“I wanna ride you,” She decided. You grinned.

“Sure thing, but I want to eat you out first.”

Joy let go of your cock.

“Then fucking eat me.”

She guided you over to her boss’s desk. She propped herself up on it, spreading her luscious thighs apart and exposing a wet patch on her still-clothed pussy. It would only be a matter of time before her underwear would be discarded as well.

You didn’t need to be invited over. You were on your knees in a flash, hands pushing Joy’s spreading Joy’s legs a little further. Your index finger pressed against the damp spot on her panties, making her gasp when you started tracing the outline of her pussy with your fingertip.

“D-Don’t tease me like that…” She whispered. 

“I like to play with my food a little,” You smirked.  She whined, her voice full of need and desire.  She squirmed atop the desk, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back. She made no further attempts to cease your teasing. 

When you eventually decided you had Joy riled up, you pulled the thin fabric of her panties off. Her pink folds glistened under the light. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight. 

You planted a kiss on her left thigh, then her right. Joy’s legs trembled in anticipation. 

“Look at me Joy,” You ordered. She bit down on her lower lip, eyes locking onto you. Maintaining eye-contact, you leaned forward and placed your mouth on her soaking pussy. 

You’d never forget her reaction when your tongue darted out, sweeping across her slick with the tip of your tongue. Her head whipped back, jet black hair sent flying behind her as she let a sharp sigh escape her lips. You quickly responded with another lick, your tongue tracing a path from the bottom of her slit to the top of her opening. Her juices accumulated on your tongue, her taste lingering in your mouth. 

Joy’s hand found your head. She gripped a fistfull of your hair, your name spilling out from her half-parted lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, the flesh drowning out the whir of the air conditioning — a warm, pillowy heaven. Her moans resonated through her body, her thighs vibrating slightly with each gasp or sigh. Your tongue attacked her folds, the flat side of your tongue brushing up Joy’s womanhood in slow, long strokes. The tip of your tongue flicked the swollen nub at the top of her pussy, playing with her clit to your heart's content as you made Joy writhe with pleasure.  Nails dug into the back of your skull. Her Thighs clamped down harder around your ears. Her juices leaked out of her cunt, pooling in your mouth as Joy pushed your head into her, forcing your tongue as deep as it could go. 

Her thighs shifted down slightly, gripping your cheeks in their grasps instead. 

“Fuck… Keep going… Keep eating me…” She pleaded, face twisting in pleasure. There was really no need for that request. You never intended on stopping till she came. 

It didn’t take long for you to get close to accomplishing your mission. When her thighs tensed around you, you increased the intensity of your assault. Joy’s breaths became shallower, the intervals between her moans decreasing with each one that left her mouth.

“Oh god… I’m cumming… I’m fucking—”

She never finished her sentence. Her throat strained visibly, her vocal chords tensing as the pleasure struck her like a bolt of thunder. In a sweaty, beautiful disarray, Joy orgasmed. Her lips formed a round “o”, her nails threatening to puncture your scalp. You lapped up the juices that gushed out from her entrance, drinking in as much of her as you could. You fell some of her sweet fluids dribbling down your chin, but you’d handle that later. 

You held her body down by her thighs as she shook and quivered on the table. Eventually she settled down enough. She brought her left hand—which had been digging into your scalp—-down to your cheek. She lifted up your head softly. 

“Couch… Let me fuck myself on your cock.”

You smiled. 

“With pleasure Joy.”

You stood up. Grasping her hand, you helped her off the table and onto the couch. Your cock throbbed violently in her hand as she gripped it firmly, guiding the tip of your shaft to her entrance.  Without a word of warning, she dropped down, sheathing you inside of her tight little cunt. Your eyes bulged, a strained sigh leaving your throat. Your hands found her full ass, gripping it tightly. 

“Fuck… I always forget how big you are…” She breathed, slowly grinding against you to adjust to your size. 

“But you never forget how much you love bouncing on my cock, do you Joy?” You asked. 

“Of course…” She replied, eyes glazed with pleasure. “I will never forget how good it feels to be filled with your cock.”

Her hips stopped moving. She shifted on top of you, her hands resting on your shoulders. She kissed you tenderly, tasting herself on your lips. 

“I’m gonna fuck myself so hard on this big cock,” She whispered. 

“Go ahead Joy,” You said. “Show me how you ride this cock.”

When she began bouncing on you, the sensation of her walls gripping and sliding up and down your shaft almost made you black out. You grounded yourself in reality with the aid of the tender flesh of Joy’s butt, your teeth clenching as she impaled herself on you relentlessly. Her pussy pulsed around your shaft, each beat matching her pace. 

“So… Fucking… Big…” She gasped. “I’m… Addicted… To your big cock.”

Her voice was raspy, filled with desire. She wanted this. She needed this.

You smirk, eyes glued to her breasts that were bouncing with each impact she made against you. She caught you looking, taking the hint and leaning forward to give you better access to her assets.

“Thank you,” You smirked through the overwhelming pleasure. You dived in, licking up the sweat between her breasts before shifting slightly to take one of her tits into your mouth. Joy’s walls seemed to clench down tighter around you, responding to the attention you gave her breasts. She moaned louder, riding you faster as your tongue swirled around her taut nipple. 

“Fuck yes, suck my tits. Suck my fucking tits!” She screamed. Her cheeks were flushed, her body glistening with sweat as she rode you fiercely. She wasn’t letting up on her pace, fucking herself harshly on your cock just as she promised. She seemed to be sucking you deeper and deeper between her folds. Each bottom of her strokes squeezed you deliciously, partially forcing you out of her pussy when she rose. The motion repeated, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel the cushion of the couch compressing under your combined weight, Joy’s frantic bounces onto you making it feel like you were on a trampoline. She moaned right into your ear, making your hair stand as her scent filled your nose. Joy overwhelmed your senses. You were going insane. 

She continued riding you, thighs clamped around your waist and her arms wrapped around your neck. You released her tit from your mouth, mounds of flesh glistening in a mixture of sweat and saliva. Joy’s eyes, half-lidded in pleasure, stared into yours. The intimacy was sublime. 

As much as you would have enjoyed letting Joy bounce on your cock forever, you had your limits.

“Joy…” You grunted. She understood. 

She stopped riding you, quickly dismounting you and sitting down next to you. Her hand gripped your shaft, slick with her juices, jerking you off frantically. 

“Quick, choose a place to cum,” She urged you. 

It takes effort. But through your gritted teeth, you manage a reply. 

“Y-Your face. Let me cover your face.”

Joy was on her knees in an instant. Her hand never left your shaft, pumping away with gusto as she closed her eyes. Her free hand fondled your balls, gently massaging your cum up your shaft as your toes curled into the carpet. With a grunt, you let loose.

Rope after rope of your hot seed shoots out of your cock. Joy’s face is covered almost instantly, your load painting her features white in your semen. She squeezed your cock, forcing every last drop of cum out of you. Your body went rigid in overwhelming bliss, your senses numbed by the force of your tidal wave of an orgasm. 

Joy waited patiently for the last drop of your cum to ooze out of your twitching shaft. Her tongue emerged from her cum stained lips, licking up your seed that was around her mouth before cleaning you up thoroughly. You mustered the strength to rest a hand on her head, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair as she worked on your cock, helping you to gently ease down from your high.

“That… Was better than I imagined,” You mused. 

“Ever since when has sex with me been a disappointment?” Joy grinned, gathering bits of your load off her face with her fingers. 

“That’s true…” You mused. Joy giggled, slapping your cock against her face. 

Joy waited for you to regain some strength, content with sucking your cock in the meantime. 

When you could finally stand, you assisted Joy in cleaning up the mess you made on her face. When all was said and done, you and Joy made sure that there were no odd stains left anywhere in her boss’s office. Once you were both sure that your deed would not be discovered, you hastily put your clothes back on. You turned off the lights and slipped out of the office. 

“That was fun,” Joy giggled, hugging your arm. “Now… I expect you to hold up your end of our deal.”

You chuckled.

“It would be rude of me not to after what we did,” You mused. Joy smiled. 

“Good… Then it looks like we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

The sun shined intensely on your face. Joy’s car cruised down the road, the wind catching her flowy black hair and making her sundress flap a little in the wind. 

“Quit staring at my tits will you?” She remarked. 

“You can’t blame me,” You defended yourself. She rolled her eyes.

“Right. I just look too good in this don’t I?” 

You chuckled, your eyes turning back to the road. The sand and the blue waters were visible now, you were close. 

“Take the exit just up ahead,” You instructed her. 

“I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to backseat drive,” She scoffed. 

“All right… You’re the boss…”

Joy smirked, pushing up her sunglasses a little. When the exit came, you were amused when Joy’s car sped right past it. 

“I thought you said you knew what you were doing?” You questioned.

“I do,” She answered confidently. 

“Then why the fuck did you miss the exit?”

“Cause we’re going somewhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I thought you said we were going to the beach?” 

Joy smiled innocently. 

“We are, just a different part,” She answered. You gave her a look.

“What?” She asked. “Why are you giving me that side eye?”

You folded your arms. 

“Why are you suddenly changing our destination?” You interrogated. Joy’s lips formed a thin line.

“Relax. I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” She reasoned with you. “Just calm your ass down. We’re almost there.”

You were a little sceptical, but you knew better than to doubt Soo-young. But you still had the urge to have a final say.

“Always breaking agreements,” You muttered. 

“I heard that,” She told you.

“You were supposed to,” You replied. Joy clicked her tongue in annoyance, but you recognised that familiar cheeky glint in those eyes. She was having fun, so were you.

Joy drove for another 10 minutes or so. A roof of a structure slowly emerged, a stand alone seaside chalet revealing itself. 

“We’ll get the beach to ourselves here,” Joy grinned. You chuckled.

“You’re full of surprises,” You remarked.

“And you’re full of shit,” She shot back. 

Joy’s car pulled up to the gate of the chalet. She rustled through her tote bag for a bit before retrieving a remote. With a click of a button, the gate rolled open. Joy drove in, parking the car just outside the entrance to the small house.

“We came here on a team retreat a year ago, I figured out how to book it,” She told you.

“I didn’t ask,” You said.

“But you’re bound to ask at some point,” She fired back. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

You helped Joy to unload the things in her trunk, amused to find that she had brought beverages and meat to grill. You quickly deduced that this would be an overnight stay, realising why she asked you to pack an extra set of clothes. 

You entered the chalet with Joy. While Joy put your things in the room, you busied yourself with storing the meat and drinks in the fridge. It was quick work for the both of you. 

“Look around for a bit, I need to change,” Joy told you.

“Can I watch?” You asked. She slapped your arm.

“Fucking pervert.” 

You chuckled. Joy giggled a little before retreating back to the room and shutting the door behind her. You did as suggested, exploring the place a little while you waited for Joy to emerge out of the room. It was a cosy little spot, complete with an outdoor dining area that offered a breathtaking view of the sea. The view was great, but something told you that the view of Joy’s naked body would’ve been better. 

“All right. Let’s head to the water.”

You turned. Your mouth dried up. 

Joy sauntered towards you, towel in hand. Her wide hips swaying in those skimpy shorts that cut off perfectly around the fullness of those thighs, perky breasts bulging out behind that tight neon-yellow top on her body, bending the words “Life Is Sweet” around her ample tits. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, a cap sitting on her head to block out the harsh sun.

“What?” She prompted, giving you a look. 

“N-Nothing,” You quickly replied, shaking off the dirty thoughts in your head. “Let’s go…”

You slid the door open and walked out into the deck. You could hear Joy’s pattering footsteps behind you, and you had to resist the urge to look back and get another good look at her. You’d seen her in all sorts of clothing. Suits, dresses, mini skirts, you’d seen it all. Hell you’d even seen her naked countless times. 

But this? This felt so different for some odd reason. 

Your feet hit the sand, the grains crushing under your feet as you moved towards the water. 

“Wait,” Joy called out from behind. You turned—a little too enthusiastically—and saw her holding out a bottle.

“Put on some sunscreen,” She told you, walking up to you and uncapping the bottle. You held out a palm, and Joy pumped a generous dollop into your hand. You thanked her with a smile before applying the lotion onto your body. Joy busied herself with her own body, the Sunscreen making her skin gleam slightly before she rubbed the lotion into her skin completely. 

“Could you help me with my back?” She requested, turning her back to you. You quickly took a moment to soak in the shape of her ass in those shorts before walking over and taking the sunscreen from her. You pushed down, pumping some of the lotion onto your hand before applying it on Joy’s back. Your hands cheekily slipped under the bits of her top that clung to her back, earning a playful gaze from the woman. You took your time to rub the lotion into her smooth skin, savouring the curves of her body from behind. 

When you decided that you were satisfied, you stepped away. 

“All done,” You smiled innocently.

“You sure took your time. Had a good look?” She teased, catching you red handed. You smirked. 

“Definitely,” You replied. She smiled and pinched your cheek.

“What a cheeky boy…” 

Joy laid down a mat under the shade of a tree, far enough from the tide but close enough for you to quickly access the water. You walked towards the azure blue sea with Joy, wet sand squishing under your feet as you went deeper and deeper. The two of you didn’t go in too deep, stopping when the water hit your knees. A wind had picked up, and Joy stretched out her arms.

“Ah… This is nice…” She sighed. 

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement. A smile made its way onto the girl’s face. 

“I wonder how our teams are fairing…” She giggled. 

“Not too well probably,” You answered truthfully. 

“Ah well… We all get what we deserve…” She sighed. “And we deserve this nice bit of relaxation…”

You nodded, silently agreeing with her. There was a moment of silence between you two as you both stood there, letting the water sweep around your knees. The sea water left a pleasant tingle on your skin, giving you some sort of a respite to the heat of the summer. 

Joy moved closer to you.  

“You know what’s nice about this?” She whispered. 

“What?” You asked. She stretched out her arm towards the shore.

“We have this segment of the beach to ourselves.” 

She moved in a little more, your bare arms touching each other. You caught her gaze. She smiled. 

“Say…” She began, gingerly reaching for your hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What is it?” You asked. Joy didn’t reply, opting to silently guide your hand onto her toned tummy. Your knuckles slipped past the waistband of her shorts, your fingers coming into contact with something warm and wet. Experience allowed you to deduce what exactly was against your fingertips.

“Ever thought about fucking on the beach?”Joy grinned. 

“Nope… But I’m down to try,” You replied.

As quickly as you had entered the water with her, you found yourselves back up on shore, tongues in mouths and hands on each other. Joy’s mat served as a barrier between you and the sand, providing a perfect place for you to lay Soo-young down and slip your digits into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips, her front teeth becoming visible as she bit down on her fingernail. You pumped your hand, working your fingers deeper into her slick cunt, your lips peppering her neck with kisses and light nibbles. A stream of moans and whines flowed from Joy’s mouth.

“Oh yes… Right there baby… R-Right fucking there,” She hissed, hips jerking  when your fingers curled up and made contact with the soft flesh on the roof of her walls. 

“You’re so wet Joy,” You muttered. 

“I’m always wet for you…” She replied. 

You smiled. 

“You're always such a little slut for me, aren’t you?” You whispered into her ear. She nodded. 

“O-Oh… Y-Yes… I’m your little slut…” 

Your fingers worked faster, pumping harder and deeper into her warmth. She gasped sharply, her back arching deliciously. You bent her to your will, a dark part of you finding pleasure in making her yours.

“Oh shit… Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” She whined, her left hand kneading her left breast while her right clung to your shirt sleeve for dear life. She let her sighs and gasps tumble out of her mouth, not bothering to control her volume as her hips start grinding against your hand. Her eyes filled with need, her tight body quivering and thrashing against your hand as she moaned your name into your ear. With each entrance of your fingers, a delightfully erotic squelch filled your ears, mixing with Joy’s filthy exclamations of pleasure. Your lips found Joy’s, muffling her cries with your mouth. Her thighs clamped down tightly around your hand, keeping you deep inside of her while you drove her wild. 

Your left hand found one of her taut nipples, and you gave the nub a pinch. Joy moaned into your mouth, her right hand shifting up and gripping your forearm. You released her lips, allowing you to hear those cute mewls and gasps clearly. Her moaning increased in volume, her eyes widening. 

“Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” She said, nails digging into your arm. “Keep fucking me with your fingers! I’m fucking… Oh!” 

Joy came, tight frame shaking violently. Her mouth opened  in a silent scream, pupils dilating further as her thighs quivered around your hand. Her back arched further, her breasts proudly protruding on her quivering chest. Your hand slowed, gradually halting to give Joy a breather through her high.  Her body crashes down on the mat mere minutes later, heaving with each breath Joy took as the bliss faded. Sweat beaded on her brow, her skin glistening deliciously under the light. 

Her weak left hand tilted your chin towards her. She finds your lips once more, holding you in a sweet kiss for a little before releasing you. 

“Fuck me however you want… Just promise that you’ll cum in me this time.”

You smiled. 

“Of course Joy…” You affirmed her. “Let’s get you undressed.”

Her soaking wet shorts were off in a flash, her skin-tight top following closely behind. Joy undid the strings of your shorts, pulling them down to let your hard cock spring out. Her hand gripped your shaft, slender fingers squeezing your member gently as she stroked you lazily. 

“The usual?” She asked. You nodded, feeling a little bit of Deja vu. Joy’s hand left your cock, planting itself behind her. She flipped herself belly down, her big juicy ass raised and presented for you. You pulled your shorts down past your knees before positioning yourself behind Joy. She looked back at you, that devilish smile on her face as you slapped your cock against her ass.  

“Put it in…” She whispered. 

“Patience, Joy… You’re always in such a hurry,” You  told her, taking your time to line yourself up with her slit. While you were aching to enter her, a dark part in you took pleasure in making the girl beg. 

“Please… Please just put in already…” She implored, a wanton expression wiping the smile off her face. You finally relented. 

You pushed your tip in, parting her flushed, pink lips as the rest of your cock slid into Joy’s cunt with ease. You groaned, hands gripping the full cheeks of her ass as you hilted yourself in her tight walls. It was pure bliss.

“God… You’re always so fucking tight Joy,” You hissed, spanking her with an open palm. She yelped in delight, ass rippling under the impact. 

“Fuck me…” She gasped. She was so full of need and lust. 

You did as she requested. Your hips popped back, your shaft redrawing from her slick momentarily before spearheading right back into the depths of her cunt. You gave her no time to adjust, quickly establishing a rough, frantic, carnal pace and taking her pussy. Joy was gasping, crying, screaming in delight, her ass rippling hypnotically with each deep stroke you made. Her little body rocked, the warmth of her ass cushioning your crotch with each entrance. Her hands dug into the sand, fingers buried deep in the grains to hold her steady as you pounded her tight little pussy mercilessly. Her walls sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into her till you could feel the warmth of her core on the tip of your cock. Jolts of pleasure shot up your spine and through your nervous system. 

Joy lowered her upper body to the ground, deepening the angle of your frantic thrusts into her. You reached down, hands quickly locating her swaying breasts and cupping them. You played with her soft ample mounds, relishing Joy’s curves in your palms. 

“Oh fuck Joy… You take my cock so well,” You grunted. 

“My body… Was made to take your cock,” She hissed back. “This pussy is yours. Take my slutty little pussy like it’s yours.”

She made eye contact with you for the nth time. The look in her eyes made something snap inside of you. 

Your palm left her tits, pushing down on the small of Joy’s back. Her face dug into the mat, her thighs spreading even further to take you deeper into her folds. She screams your name, begging you for more. 

You doubled down on Joy, your slick shaft emerging and disappearing between her slick pussy lips.  Her hand reached between your bodies, rubbing frantically at her clit. 

“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” She cried, sounding breathless. She was enjoying every last second of her treatment. The waves crashed against the shore, doing little to mask the screams of pleasure escaping from Joy’s lips.

You fucked Joy into the sand, taking control of her body as you bent over her to keep her pinned between you and the mat. 

“How does it feel Joy?” You growled into her ear. “How does it feel being fucked like a dirty little slut?”

Joy struggled to answer.

“It feels… So… Fucking good…”

The pure filth coming from her mouth spurred you, making you fuck her faster, harder… You wanted to fuck her senseless like you always did. Joy loved taking your cock till her mind went blank. Be it in the office, in between her own sheets or even in a car, she relished the feel of your cock stretching her out and fucking her till her brain rattled in her skull. There was no such thing as “Slow” when you were with Joy. 

Your hand gripped her ponytail, yanking back hard till her head was looking straight ahead. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum Joy,” You hissed. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside your tight little cunt.”

“Yes yes yes… Do it! Fill me! I need it so fucking bad!” She grunted. Your hand leaves her hair, both hands gripping her wide hips roughly as you give Joy all you had.

Your orgasm almost made you black out. You buried yourself as deep as you could inside Joy’s body, struggling to keep your upper body upright. Your cock spasmed and pulsated, your body quivering and shaking — absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Joy’s sighs drowned out the noises around you, a dull ring in your ears as you pumped your load into her awaiting cunt. It takes an eternity for you to recover. When you do, Joy was quick to request for more. 

“I want it in my ass next…” She told you. Through your sweat-matted hair, you managed a grin. 

“Coming right up.”

You wouldn’t be going back into the water for quite some time.

~~~~

A cool evening breeze ruffled your hair, rustling the leaves of trees behind you as you sat on the deck with Joy. Her head rested on your shoulder, mouth busy chewing on the piece of meat in her mouth. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you, both of you silently listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 

“Feed me another piece,” Joy requested. You gladly obliged, poking a slice of grilled meat with your fork and bringing it to her mouth. She bit it off your fork, chewing happily. 

“You know… I think we should do this more often,” She told you between bites. 

“There’s a limit on the number of times we can call in sick Joy,” You reminded her.

“Ah who fucking cares,” She said. “We can probably find other loopholes in the system.”

You chuckled. 

“I guess so,” You mused. She tapped your hand. You fed her another piece of meat.

A deep sigh left her mouth. You risked a glance down, noting the look of content on her face as she stared out into the sea. The sun was setting just past the horizon, an orangish-golden glow illuminating the surface of the water. The sunlight blended with the deep blue water of the sea, the sun reflected on the surface of the water. It was… Oddly romantic.

“Thanks for coming out with me today,” Joy said. “I really appreciate it.” 

You smiled. 

“No problem Soo-young,” You replied. “I needed this break either way.”

Joy giggled. 

“I know. So did I.”

“So was I always meant to be invited?” You questioned. 

“Hm… Maybe.”

You feigned offence. Joy laughed and smacked your arm playfully.

“Well… Intended or not, I’m glad you asked me to come,” You told her sincerely. Her expression softened. 

“That’s great… Would’ve been a waste if you didn’t,” She replied. 

Your eyes met hers. For once, past the cheekiness, past the lust and past the mischief, you saw a faint glimmer of… something behind her gaze. Something stirred in you.

You looked back out towards the sea, feeling an odd sensation on your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it made you hold Joy a little closer.

Maybe… Just maybe… You felt like the two of you were more than just friends with benefits.

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

Hello. Hope you enjoyed this one. I had a little bit of a Joy overdose so...

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and reading! Have a great day!

#joy red velvet #park sooyoung #joy smut

[c0ffinshit]

Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome Part Three

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

A/N: 🎶 guess who’s back? back again. occtaika’s back. tell a friend! 🎶 hi hi everyone ! guess who finally got around to writing something? ME ! so enjoy part 3 !!!

word count: 1,395

warnings: casual gaslighting, heavy swearing, hurt, manipulative albert

people who asked to be tagged: @ethanhoewke​

I didn’t talk to him the next day. It was an empty feeling when I thought of him. Grabber no longer felt like a man I admired and adored. He felt like some guy I knew. I still wrote and took whatever small trinkets I found home with me, just for him. But that nothingness loomed over me like the Sword of Damocles, ready to strike me down with a simple cut of the rope holding it. A couple of days after that whole affair, I woke up at 6:30. Maybe I overreached, I thought as my legs slipped into my work pants. My boss told me the day before that I had to come in early because one of my good-for-nothing coworkers had to leave for Utah, still don’t know why they had to go. But since I’m a fine coworker (and my boss told me he would pay me extra), I took the early shift. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. No one comes by my door, not even my friends. I poked my head out of my room, trying to see who it was. An amorphous figure of a man stood outside. For a split second, my heart skipped, thinking it was The Grabber. But how would he have gotten out of prison? I finally put on my shirt and walked to the door.

"Who is it?" I asked a little bit too loudly.

No answer. I walk to the door.

"Jesus Christ." I see an Albert-like shape out of his prison uniform and in nice copper pants with a dark brown long-sleeved button-down shirt. He stood in front of my door with daisies in his hands.

God, not him. Grabber was not in prison; he was on my front doorstep. My brain was scrambled. The Grabber knocked on the door again, which sounded like a cry from me to come to the door. My heart had no desire to see his face, but I wanted so badly to fall back into his arms and forgive him for using me. My legs ran back into my room, picking up my phone to call into work sick. He knocks again, still wanting me to come to the door. Why was I so scared and so mad? Maybe I was overreacting. Did I really just want to be a sex toy to him? No, I am a woman, and I should be treated better than that. I kept telling myself not to answer the door, and hopefully, he’d go away. Tears ran down my face as I sank to the floor, completely overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Suddenly, the knocking stopped. My crying stopped. The feelings stopped. It even felt like the world wasn’t spinning. The world went silent. Honestly, I was so confused as I got up from the floor and walked into the hallway to check the window by my door. The figure was gone. Albert was gone. I never thought to ask if it was him; maybe he was all in my head. Maybe, I was overreacting. Suddenly, a quieter knock emerges from my front door. I quickly grabbed my favorite blanket since I was missing my work shirt. Gingerly, I grabbed the door handle and slowly turned the knob. As I do this, I peek outside the door. My eyes widened as the realization of Albert came into my mind. It was him standing in front of my house.

"Jesus Christ," I repeat.

"Told you I’d see you when I got out."

"I thought you weren’t supposed to be out until," I tried to think of the date when he was released, but nothing came to mind. Maybe, there really was no date.

"Well, cops are all ears the minute you mention money," he said through his crooked smile.

I look at him with a slight glare, "So basically, you escaped."

Albert’s eyes darken as if I should’ve said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut.

"How dare you assume that? I got out fair and square!" his arms fell to his side.

"You just told me you bribed a cop to get you out!" I exclaimed.

"I didn’t say that!" he said, his hands grabbing my shoulders, "I would never lie to you like that."

"Except when it's most convenient for you," I replied coldly.

Grabber places his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent. He was so pathetic. It was honestly one of the saddest sights I’ve ever seen.

"Woah, hit a nerve there," he chuckles awkwardly. His eyes move from mine, "Look, I sense that you are still bothered about what happened last Saturday. And I’m not here to apologize because I am still confused about why you’re mad."

He said it in a way that almost seemed like he was trying to apologize but wanted me to say I was sorry for being such a bitch. But he’s the one who wanted to show up at my house. I didn’t know what he wanted. To apologize or rip off my pants and fuck me then and there.

"Good, because I’m not saying sorry either."

"Why?" His tone was urgent and assertive.

"Because I didn’t do anything. You’re the fuck-up."

Sure, I may admit that what I said was really mean. But knowing that Albert needed to hear it just so his heart could start beating for once.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his tone almost hurting.

"I’m giving you what you want. Since I have a strong feeling that you like it when I insult you, much like you do to me. So I’m going to repeat myself, you’re a fuck-up who needs to get off my welcome mat."

His brown dress shoes stepped back. The Grabber’s other hand clenched into fists for a second before speaking.

"I’m not a fuck-up. I’m giving you what you want. The dreamy-er version of me."

My eyes felt like they were burning into the back of my skull. I felt like a moron for even interacting with him in the first place.

"Are you fucking serious? That’s not the man I fell in love with. You’re a total stranger to me."

"But it's the truth (Y/N)! You fell in love with a fantasy version of me. One that would’ve held you when you were scared. One that could’ve made you breakfast in the morning and kissed you every night. I’m not that guy, and I will never be that guy for you."

Words haunted me in every nightmare but, when said aloud, held no weight.

"(Y/N), I can’t give you what you want. I’ve told you that a billion times."

I wanted to feel for him; I did. Anger, sadness, or even pity-- just anything to make me feel something.

"I want to love you. I want so badly to wrap my arms you and hope that you forgive me-"

"Put the mask down, Shaw. I can see right through you."

"God, can you let me speak for just a second and listen? I know I haven’t been the kindest to you, and you deserve so much better than me."

"Yeah, I do deserve better. Do you know how many times you’ve hurt me with the things you say, and I had to live in the delusion pretending that it didn’t happen? Shaw, I’m an adult. I have feelings."

"That’s not the point. The point is that you should have a fucking delusion over a guy who clearly doesn’t like you. I want to love you, but I can’t. I feel nothing when I look at you."

"You are so lucky I hate you right now." I said, walking away from the door.

The Grabber places the daisies neatly on the mat, "And I’m so lucky to have you feel what I’ve felt for years."

It's funny looking back on this moment, realizing how honestly blind I was. Sure, I did want to live in blissful ignorants, but nothing about it was truly blissful in the way you’d think.

"After not seeing me for years while I was in prison, this is how you decide to treat me."

Albert turned his back and started walking to the black van parked outside my door. Calling after and apologizing felt useless since neither of us wanted to admit we were both terrible people. Nobody wants to admit shit like that.

#The Grabber #the black phone #the grabber x reader #Ethan Hawke #ethan hawke x reader

[sawyingthroughthewasteland]

Companion meme: General Sawyer Lockwood

found this funky meme style I think made by @shitty-fallout-art ? dunno but I thought it would be fun to have a crack at it with my boy :) don't ask me how this works with the endgame version of him, I don't know either. Maybe your just a settler in my playthrough that needed help so he just tagged along? who knows

Name: General Sawyer Lockwood Karma: good Alliance: Minutemen, Railroad, Arcadia, Far Harbor Perks: Favor of the Minutement: Thanks to traveling with the General so much, when in settlements, settlers will recognize you and help out anyway they can! In settlements, prices are significantly lowered and speech checks are easier. Additionally, all healing mechanics used within the settlements bounds are twice as effective due to feeling right at home! (Temporary Perk) Father of the Commonwealth: When traveling with Sawyer as your companion, instead of hitting 0 hp sometimes, Sawyer will drag you to safety and revive you back with a limited amount of health. Scowling and warning of needing to be more careful included. Additionally, when you fail a good karma speech check, Sawyer will hop in and back you up resulting in a success. (Temporary Perk) Commonwealth isn't Going to Rebuild Itself: When building in a settlement, there's a random chance a shipment of needed materials will appear in your workshop. "Heard you ran out. Here you go, kiddo! - General " (Permeant Perk) General:

"Wonder if Preston needs my help right now..... eehhh he's fine."

"Oh man, beautiful day for flying. Bet Baron's taking the kids out for a ride tonight."

"Damn, to think Nora wanted to live downtown. These places look like shit." "Move to Boston, they said. It'll be fun, they said." Combat: "For fuck's sake..."

"You've forced my hand, hope your happy." (to the enemies)

"Oh hey! Nice headshot! Do it again, we're low on ammo." (to player)

"Calling artillery! Light em up!" (if has artillery flare and flaregun equipped) "Calling in air support! Give them hell, Bear!" (if has airsupport flare and flaregun equipped) Death/Unconscious: "Fucking hell... 243 years, and I die from this?"

"Hey man.... Give Baron my dogtags, will you? Tell him... tell him I'm sorry, too."

" Got an extra stimpack on you? I'd hate for this dad to not return from the store haha... ha..." Revive: "Thanks, friend. Thought this body was going to go cold again. [nervous laugh] " "Don't tell my husbands about that, they'll kill me... Ironic, right?" "You'd really think people would have more respect for the outfit. Nothing Mac can't patch up, I suppose." After combat:

"Well then."

"Welp... time to loot I guess."

"Woo! We won! I love it when we do that." Open Inventory:

"Hm? Oh sure, toss it to me. I think I still have room in my bag."

"Oh god do you have like, a bag or something to put that in? No? [gags] "

"Glad someone else sees the value in random junk around the place. This will look fantastic back in Sanctuary." "Do I look like a strong guy to you?" (inventory full) Sneaking:

"Turn off your radio, dumbass."

"Just let me know when you need me to reappear. "

"They're not going to know.... how would they know? They're not gonna know!"

Location Specific: Sanctuary:

"Home sweet home! I'll be with Baron if you need me- man probably caught something on fire while I was gone."

"Ah, roof brahmin. Never change."

"Want to know something weird? I like this version of Sanctuary better than the pre-war version. Fucked up, right?"

Diamond City:

"Did you know you can ask the noodle stand for hot water for tea? Robot doesn't have a programmed response but it'll still give it to you... Oh hey my tea thermos is empty, could we?"

"This place is a garbage heap if you ask me. Maybe some day they'll let me fuck around in here."

"I should really ask if we can get an office here sometime for recruitment and communication, but I think they'd expect me in here full time. I'll go feral if I'm stuck behind these walls for more than a few hours, though." Prydwen (or the version of it that Baron flew over with):

"This is... nice and all, but can we hurry up? I don't feel the best uh... here..."

"[shaky breathing, trying to calm himself down]"

"Next time could I just... stay in the airport..."

Railroad HQ:

"Be right back, gotta slap Deacon's bald head."

"Pam! Pam! Pam!"

"I didn't know you were an agent? Welcome to the team! I'm Bullseye but don't let others know that."

Boston Commons:

"I really want to turn this place into a cute garden. Just imagine it! Could get some nice ferns in here too "

"Oh god, what the fuck. Wait why does it have knifes for hands what the fuck."

"Place could use more trees. Imagine how nice it would be to set up a ton of turrets and just hammock here after a long day? Get some nice sun and- shit I just saw something move in the water again." Personal Quest:

Too Much on the Plate: Sawyer really misses spending time with his family and desperately need to spend some time with his son. Help get three settlements to 90 happiness so the poor man can rest a little.

Vertibird Down: Baron's vertibird went down in enemy territory. Help the distressed General rescue his husband and wreck havoc on those who hurt him.

Likes:

Doing MM or RR quests

Helping others

Building in settlements

Nonviolent approaches or high level good karma speech checks

Recruiting settlers

Taking out BoS/Institute members

Stealth kills

Dislikes:

Chem use other than stimpacks / Addiction

Prejudice against ghouls or synths

Threatening the RR or MM

Killing nonhostile and/or good karma individuals

Stealing or trespassing

Helping raiders

Asking for increased pay

#beep beep character template completed #i'm not dead i swear

[sadomas0chist]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.4k

tags/warnings: dom jean, simultaneous masturbation, penetrative sex, oral receiving (female), fingering, swearing, casual sex, partying, make-out session, brother’s best friend, breeding kink, belly bulge.

synopsis: despite being Connie's sister, you were never half the party animal he was. at the moment, getting good grades on your last semester took all your time which made one of your good friends, Hitch, drag you out of your room to the party your brother hosted. what could possibly happen, other than sleeping with your brother's best friend?

a.n. : i was thinking about turning this into a short series but i’m still debating whether i should go for it or not. anyway, enjoy!!!

update: i actually turned this into a series ;) part two is up!!

Being the sister of one of the most chaotic human beings on earth had its drops. I was supposed to be studying for my last semester which was pretty difficult and needed a full-time concentration.

Instead, I was getting dolled up by one of my best friends, Hitch, who was practically begging me to get out of my room and party. "Don't be so nerdy, it's not like you need the extra credit. Connie will be sad if you don't show up. He's been whining to Sasha all day long how his own sister didn't want to attend his own party." She applied some red lipstick to my lips and popped hers as a sign that she was done.

"Hitch, I really appreciate y'all getting worried about me going crazy, but I'm fine really. You know I'm only going because I missed you and the girls." I stood up from my bed and walked to my vanity, gasping at how sexy I looked.

Hitch smacked my ass in response. "Your ass looks good in this dress. Get some tonight." I raised my eyebrow at her. She knew I wasn't in the mood to mess around and get attached again. I shrugged it off and opened my bedroom door.

"Wait, why didn't he invite them to our house?" I stopped, watching her make her way in front of me.

"He needed more space. And a pool. Now come on we're going to be late." she reached out to grab my hand and dragged me out of my house.

***

"Oh goodness..." I mumbled to myself when I noticed how crowded the place was. Some people were already drunk and throwing up on the grass and in garbage cans, others were shamelessly rubbing on each other, while the rest was either in the pool or at the bar.

"Oh, there's Connie." She pointed at my brother who gave her a tight hug. "Look who's here!" she cheered shaking my shoulders.

"Hey," I smiled and hugged him. "All good?" he smiled down at me and pat my head. I nodded and threw him back a smile. "Aight then, I'm gonna get going. Take care." he pointed at me jogging backward and eventually turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

A pat on my shoulder made me turn around, a grin instantly forming on my lips when I noticed that this hand belonged to Sasha. She jumped in my arms, squeezing me tightly. "Jeez I thought you were dead, never isolate yourself like that again." I chuckled taking a bite of her hot dog. "Hey!" she smacked my arm almost making me choke on the meat.

We caught up on a few things, our conversation getting steamier as Hitch began to mention her sex life and how we should be taking notes.

“No, but really, all jokes aside. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re not getting laid. I don’t even think you know how to pull men anymore babe, full offense.” She took a swing of her beer and shrugged her shoulders. I scoffed, clearly offended.

“Working my ass off for college doesn’t change anything in my flirting techniques.” I scoffed “You know what? I’ll prove it to you right now. Your pick.” I raised my hands up, challenging her. Sasha jumped in excitement next to me while Hitch was inspecting our surroundings.

“Him.” she pointed at the bar. I scrunched my face when I saw a guy who looked musty and crusty. “Girl, not him. Him.” she held my jaw with her hand and tilted my head. My eyes landed on a tall male, manspreading on the stool as his back was leaning against the wooden bar, watching everyone’s move. His elbows were resting on the wood, his right hand holding his drink, swirling it around.

He looked delicious with his tight black shirt and chinos, squeezing him in all the right places. His hair was slicked back, almost dropping to his shoulders. His facial features weren’t clear enough due to the distance I was standing from, but his jawline looked good enough.

He didn’t look like he was expecting company or was here with someone. I smirked and shook her hand, accepting her challenge. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make out with him. You’ve kissed strangers before. I’d like to see if you still have the balls to do it.” I shook my head with a grin. Frankly, I was expecting her to task me with something much worse.

“Done.” Sasha jumped in excitement and Hitch shook my hand. “Watch, and learn.” I turned on my heels and walked to the bar where he was sitting.

“Hey you,” I hissed, getting his attention. “Don’t move,” I whispered as I positioned myself between his legs and grabbed his jaw, placing my lips on his.

From here it could go two ways: he either pushes me off and tells me he’s into guys- yes it happened before, not a pleasant memory- or he kisses me back.

At first, he was shaken. However, it didn’t take him too long to snake his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him, deepening the kiss. He freed his hand from the glass he was holding and wrapped it around the back of my neck, pushing me closer.

I parted my lips, his tongue gently sliding in and toying with mine. When I finally decided it was enough, I let go of him and pulled away, a slight trail of saliva hanging from our lips.

Without adding any other word, I grinned at him and left. He didn’t say anything and sincerely I’m glad he didn’t. He clearly enjoyed it as well.

“Oh my God you actually did that.” she squeaked, shaking my shoulders.

“Hitch, it's not the first time. Also, he was a good kisser. Now, do you believe me?”

She sighed in defeat and nodded. Sasha was long gone, probably dragged to the dance floor by Connie and soon enough Marlo was here to drag Hitch too. I found this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

To my surprise, it was empty and clean. I checked if my mascara was still intact and if I needed to fix my lipstick. While I was applying some lipstick on, a group of girls came in, obviously tipsy, and started talking about the guys they wanted to fuck.

“There’s this tall dude with long hair, ugh girl I just want to hump him.” one of them giggled, leaning on her friend for support.

“Stephanie!! He was with a black-haired girl, don't be a slut.” her friend smacked her.

I cocked my eyebrow and added some mascara. I gathered my stuff and texted Hitch that I was going back home.

It was getting lame and my brother was in no way to be seen. I’m sure Hitch and Sasha would understand. I’ve been too focused on my studies and partying wasn’t what I needed right now.

I walked to the gates and waited for a taxi.

“Already leaving?” a voice echoed behind me, startling me. I jumped around to be met with the same dude I made out with, this time, a leather jacket resting on his shoulders.

Great.

“I’m not feeling it.” I shrugged.

“You can’t leave alone. Some dudes are total creeps.” He walked to me. His tall frame towering over me, the mixture of alcohol and perfume intoxicating me.

“You could easily be one of them. I don’t know you.”

“Well, if I were, you wouldn’t have made out with me for starters. You look mature enough to distinguish a gentleman from a douchebag.” He grinned, pushing my hair behind my shoulders.

“A gentleman?” I questioned, toying with the pockets of his jacket.

“Only if you want me to be,” he mumbled, raising my chin with his index finger.

We stared at each other for a while. I knew he was another stranger, but he made me feel aroused. Maybe Hitch was right. Maybe I needed some relief. So I did what I thought I’d never do.

“Come over. My brother is having fun at this stupid party and I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.”

I could tell he was hesitating, and to be honest, his silence made me question if I made the right decision asking him to come over. He looked like he didn’t want to take advantage of me. A true gentleman, I thought.

I didn’t really care though. We were both taking advantage of each other in this situation, knowing that we will probably never see each other again after this. It was a one-time thing.

I did have, however, a feeling that I’ve seen him before, but the booze wasn’t making me think straight and I shrugged it off. He didn’t seem to recognize me so there was nothing to be worried about.

“On one condition.” he spoke up. I tilted my head waiting for him to proceed. “Tonight, I’m in control.”

I chuckled and nodded. “If that’s what you want, cowboy then sure thing.”

“Jean.” he handed out his hand for me to shake.

“Y/n.”

***

It didn’t take us a lot of time to find his car and get to my place. As a matter of fact, our clothes dropped instantly on the floor as soon as we went through my bedroom door.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled between kisses, his hand folding my breast. I giggled throwing my head back, my fingers playing with his hair.

His hands traveled down my body, parting ways as one pressed against my heat and the other squeezed my ass. He worked his digits between my folds, my fingers digging in his shoulders.

He gathered my slick before pushing it back with his middle and ring finger.

“Fuck Jean,” I moaned out. I pushed him closer, licking him from the base of his neck to his earlobe, and gently sucked it.

He sighed and backed me until I reached my bed. “Relax now,” He pushed me down on the mattress and spread my legs. I grabbed my pillow and placed it underneath my hips.

He sat on his knees and put my legs on his shoulders, my cunt a few inches away from him. Locking eyes with me, he gave my opening a long lick.

I hissed as he licked my slit, his thumb rubbing small circles to my clit. My hands gripped onto my sheets, my hips bucking. Damn, he was good.

“Shit, ahh, Jean,” I whimpered, his fingers now massaging my insides as his tongue played with my clit. He hummed against me, sending vibrations all over my heat.

I squealed as I felt myself get closer, my legs shakings on his shoulders.

“Be a good girl and come all over my face eh?” he seduced his fingers going faster inside me, occasionally curling to hit my sweet spot.

“I’m so close, fuck fuck fuck fuck.” I chanted gripping his hair, my head pushing down the mattress as my orgasm drove me over the edge.

He stood back up, his stubble coated with my wetness. He sucked his fingers before making them pop out of his mouth.

“Tastes as good as it looks.” He chuckled. “Spread them lips for me again baby let me see your mess”. he purred pushing his hair back.

Doing as I’m told, I spread my folds with my index and middle finger and bit my lip before running another finger between them, feeling my slick. He groaned as I touched myself, slightly playing with my swollen clit.

“You want me?” Jean stroked himself as I dipped my fingers inside me. I nodded biting harder on my lower lip, watching as he pumped himself, his vein now conspicuous.

He kneeled on my bed, pulling me closer to him. “Then take me.” And with that, he rammed himself in. I yelped at the painful stretch, his hands holding my hips. I grabbed his wrist with a hand and tried to reach my headboard with the other.

Once given the green light, he started moving slowly in and out, making sure I was comfortable. Gentleman alright.

His pace was steady, the moonlight lighting his side. He looked absolutely handsome. I wasn’t fragile, nor delicate whatsoever. Still, he didn’t fuck me just to please himself. He wanted to please me and feel me as much as I wanted to.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you okay?” I nodded with a smile. Jean’s thrusts became faster and harder. The deep long strokes were just appetizers for what he was keeping in store. He was big, but he felt incredibly nice.

My room soon was filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other along with my moans and his grunts.

I was already feeling sensitive from my first orgasm, and his strokes were my g-spot almost perfectly. I was a panting mess beneath him, my makeup smudged across my face.

“Ah fuck, you’re choking me so fucking good.” he whimpered throwing his head back. Droplets of sweat trailed down from his toned chest to his abs. I stared at his tattoos and how they complimented him.

“Feel it y/n.” he grabbed my hand and placed it on my lower stomach. Shit.

“I’m gonna cum again, oh fuck, Jean.” I whimpered, his hips rocking my body. I squirmed under him, his thumb rubbing my pink bud, adding more friction.

I wailed as I felt my orgasm rip through my body, his thrusts getting sloppier. I knew he was close.

Fortunately, I’m always on the pill, so I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him down. “I want you to fill me up, please,” I begged, his face buried in my neck, leaving a love bite.

“I’m going to fill you up so good, so damn good.” He lifted my waist with his arms and pulled me closer. “Fuck, yes, oh fuck, yes.” he whimpered in my ear as he emptied himself in me, warming my walls with his semen.

We lead there for a while, motionless. His dick was limp inside me, his arms still holding me.

He feels warm. I don’t want to move. No, he has to move. I don’t do aftercare.

“That was good,” I said breaking the silence. Jean rolled to his side, his cum instantly leaking out of me as pulled out.

“Indeed. Thank you.” I chuckled at his silly response.

“You don’t thank someone for having sex with them dumbass.” A smile formed on his lips as he stood up to grab some tissues from my nightstand to clean me up.

“I’m a gentleman, remember?” he cleaned off our cum and tossed the tissues in my garbage can. “I should get going, we don’t want your brother to go nuts on you.” I nodded and pulled the sheets to cover my nude body. It was a shame that he was leaving, but as I said, I never did aftercare when it came to casual sex.

He put on his briefs and began pulling up his bottoms, however, the most unexpected thing happened, making him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, y/n I brought you some- Jean?!” Connie yelled dropping the bag of chips he was holding.

“Connie?!” Jean who was now half-clothed yelled back.

“Are you- oh my god- did I just sleep with your sister?” He panicked, holding his head with both hands.

I smacked my mouth, my eyes wide open. What the fuck was I supposed to do in a situation like that.

“You sure as hell did idiot!” my brother replied, now both of the males looking at me.

Well, that’s extremely awkward.

#aot fandom #aot x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x reader smut #jean x you #jean kirschtein smut #jean smut #jean kirschtien

[thegreatestofheck]

dark of the night [A. Hotchner]

word count – 25,555 (its so long im so sorry) warnings - a lot, blood, torture, mentions (but no descriptions) of sexual assault/rape, murder, canon violence stuff, this is essentially a hurt/comfort fic so expect a lot of hurt to come before the comfort, also a slow burn. synopsis - an agent gets taken in the middle of an investigation. in a race against time, the team at the bau must find her by diving into her deepest secrets. when a video tape arrives with horrible images of the state of their friends, aaron hotchner realizes just how terrified he is of losing her.  tagging: @magicalbluepanther (i hope you don’t mind the tag lol) a/n – did anyone order an extra long aaron hotchner slow burn? Because here you’ve got one. so my mental health is declining again and that means I have to write a criminal minds one shot that involves a lot of hurt/comfort. also I gave y/n a name because i don’t really like y/l/n or anything, but you’re more than welcome to replace it with your own! please dont be mad at me. anyway, stay happy, healthy, safe, and groovy!

The moment Agent Hotchner realized that she wasn’t coming back, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. It had happened once before, this feeling, the day he was in his car and he got that call from Foyet and heard Hayley’s muffled sobbing over the phone. Panic settled into his bones, unable to shake it away even as the terrified eyes of the rest of the team looked his way. 

“Did we just lose her?” Emily Prentiss asked, her words wavering ever so slightly as she tried to keep herself calm. 

At the sound of her voice, Hotch finally found himself able to look around the room. 

Morgan had shifted his eyes back to the door that his friend was supposed to come through. Reid stared at Hotch, wide eyed, lips parted. JJ was chewing on her thumb nail, waiting for Hotch to do something, say something. Emily was looking between the door and Hotch. Rossi was standing behind him, so he couldn’t see the look on his face, but Hotch couldn’t imagine he looked any different than the rest of his team. 

Agent Evelyn Caro had walked into the meeting, undercover, in hopes of baiting a serial killer into a quick and easy arrest. After three years of horrific killings, the BAU team was so close to catching him and Agent Caro was more than willing to be the one to take him down. 

Hotch knew this particular case was a sore spot for Caro, as all torture/murder cases were. But during this entire case, she had been far more on edge and far more eager to tear their suspect to shreds. He shouldn’t have let her go to the meeting, he knew it was too personal for her, even if she had never told him why. 

She had refused to take in a ear piece, said that the stories that would be told at the meeting were personal and their privacy was to be respected. Hotch trusted her. He agreed. They all stood outside and waited. The meeting should have been only two hours, Caro promised that she would be back with the suspect in less than three hours. 

But it had now been three hours and almost thirty minutes. The door hadn’t opened a single time since the last of the members of the meeting left, all except Caro and the suspect. 

She fit his physical appearance preference and possessed the confidence he appeared to have deep hatred for. It should have been an easy job. 

“What went wrong?” Hotch murmured out loud, more to himself. 

His words seemed to trigger something in Morgan, who pushed open the van door and unholestered his weapon before anybody could stop him. 

“Morgan!” Rossi yelled after him, but there was no slowing down, and once Morgan was running toward the meeting building, Emily and Reid were on his tail. 

“Hotch, what do we do?” JJ asked, turning toward him as Rossi hopped out of the car to go after his peers. 

Hotch ran through every single protocol that he knew like the back of his hand. They flitted through his brain like smoke, a flurry of useless words and numbers that meant nothing to him. Not a single one told him how to deal with this. Tightness squeezed at his chest as the rules and regulations he clung so tightly to began to fail him once again. 

“We find her.” 

Gun drawn, Hotch entered the building with JJ on his tail. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his composure about him. The same couldn’t be said for some of the others. 

“Evie!” Morgan called out, kicking down a door. 

“Evelyn?” Rossi’s voice echoed through elementary school. 

Hotch was seconds away from calling out her name himself, but he kept his jaw clenched tight. JJ followed every move he made. If he lost himself now, so would JJ. He needed at least one person on his side whose head was still level. 

They scoured the entire grounds, but they could find nothing. The room where the meeting had taken place was empty. Not even the leader was there anymore. This dark room was where the team met up after searching every inch of the grounds. 

There was silence for an eternity as they passed glances between each other, wordlessly asking if anyone had found anything. 

“There’s not even a footprint,” Morgan said helplessly, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

“I didn’t hear her scream.” JJ’s voice was weak and her eyes downcast. 

“None of us did,” Rossi replied. 

“We have to find her quickly,” Hotch said, finally trusting himself enough to speak. “He only keeps his victims for five days and if he knows she’s FBI, it’s probably less than that.” 

“I’ll call Garcia, track Evie’s phone,” Morgan said, pulling out his phone and turning away from the group. 

“We start from the ground up,” Hotch instructed. “Right now, Agent Caro isn’t our coworker but a victim and we have to treat her as such if we want to find her. Dig into her life, figure out what connects her to the other victims. Did he take her because she’s FBI or because she’s connected to the others. Morgan?”

“Her phone’s off,” Morgan said, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

“Tell Garcia to look for a connection between all of the victims. Dig and dig deep. Hold nothing back.”

Morgan paused for a moment. They all remembered when they had to do this very thing to him, when he was a suspect all those years ago. He knew what it was like to have his friends digging into a personal life he long wanted buried, how they looked at him differently after they knew, even if they didn’t mean to. He didn’t understand then, that they were trying to help, but he did now. There was no time to hesitate. This was Evelyn they were talking about. 

“Garcia, give me everything on Evelyn Caro that you can find. Dig deep. She needs us,” Morgan said. 

“Got it.” 

“Call me when you get anything.” 

“Yup.” 

She ended the call and Morgan turned back to the team. 

“Garcia’s on it.” 

“Okay, then we need to get back to the station and look at everything again. We have a name. We know it’s him. We just need to find them.” Hotch turned away from the team and started for the exit. “No one goes home until we find her.” 

___

Hotch meant what he said, but no one needed to be told twice. Red rimmed eyes scanned the same files over and over and over again as they waited for any amount of information from Garcia. 

“There has to be something here,” Morgan said with a frustrated sigh. “Something we’re missing.” 

“Why did he take her?” JJ asked as she set down her file. The woman rubbed her eyes before crossing her arms and looking up at the rest of the room. “I mean, what changed in that room that made him want her?”

“He found out she was FBI?” Reid suggested, leaning back in his chair. 

“How though?” Rossi piped in from his position leaning up against the wall. “Caro isn’t dumb enough to reveal herself, we were careful.” 

“She must have said something in that meeting that convinced him that she was a good target,” Hotch said. He could feel all eyes on him as he watched the ground, unable to meet any of their gazes. “Maybe this is how he finds his victims. At these group meetings.” 

“So we sent Evie into a death trap.” Morgan shoved his chair away from the table and stood, hands on his hips as he breathed heavily. 

“We have to figure out what connects her to the other victims,” Emily said. “Just like any other case.” 

“But this isn’t any other case is it?” 

“Morgan-” 

“This is Evelyn we’re talking about!” 

“Morgan, I need you to calm down,” Hotch said, standing from his place. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Hotch.” Morgan trembled with rage, his eyes glazed over with water. “You can’t expect me to sit here and-” 

“I expect you to do your job, Agent Morgan, seeing as that is the only thing that will get Caro back home.” Hotch struggled to keep his voice low. He curled his fists so the others couldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking. 

“You think we’ll get her back?” 

“If you do your job.” 

Morgan breathed in deeply and nodded his head. Before he sat back down, Morgan put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. The kid had his hand covering his mouth, his eyes glazed over like Morgan’s had been. 

Hotch knew how close Morgan and Caro were. Ever since she signed on to the team, the two had been nearly inseparable. Hotch wondered if it was something he needed to discuss with them. Every time that he seriously considered it, he had to question his motivations. Was it to keep complications out of their team or was it something else, something he wasn’t ready to admit? 

Turning his eyes away from Reid and Morgan, Hotch opened his mouth to address the team when Garcia stepped into the open doorway. They all turned to look at her only to see that her cheeks were streaked with tears as she clutched a file in her hands. 

“Garcia, what is it?” Emily stood and walked toward her, a hand out open for her. 

“You...you told me to dig deep so I did,” she stammered. “I...I did and I found...oh, God.” 

“Come in,” Hotch said, trying to smooth the furrow in his brows. 

Garcia took Emily’s hand and shuffled into the briefing room, sniffling through her tears. 

“Our poor baby girl,” Garcia said, setting the file gently onto the round table as if it was fragile. “She never told us-” 

“Garcia.” 

Garcia cleared her throat and nodded her head, flipping the file open. The team crowded around the table. Staring up at them was a picture of a young girl, her face purpled and bloody. Morgan clenched his jaw, Reid turned his face away from the picture. 

“Is that Caro?” JJ asked, her hand hovering over her mouth. 

Hotch had seen this picture before, attached to the file so covered in black redacted lines that he barely gleaned anything from it. But there were no more black lines. Everything about Agent Caro was there for him to read. Her life was an open book for him. This was his job, the only way to get her back, so why did he feel so dirty doing it? 

“When Evie-”

“Evelyn,” Hotch corrected. “She can’t be our friend right now.”

Garcia nodded, her eyes still glassy. 

“When Evelyn Caro was 12 years old, she was kidnapped from her front lawn. She was held captive by her...by her uncle for four years. He did...he did horrible things to her...I’m sorry-” 

Garcia choked, turning away from the file. Morgan put his hand on Garcia’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“She was held by her uncle,” Hotch continued, eyes scanning the page, when it was clear that Garcia wouldn’t be able to. “There were clear signs of r-pe and physical violence, even though she never spoke about it afterward.” 

“She was held captive by her uncle?” Morgan asked. “How did no one know it was him?”

“Police talked to everyone in the family,” Garcia said, turning back into the conversation. “He was never on their serious list of suspects.” 

“How did she get out?” Rossi asked from his place near the back of the crowd.

“She broke out,” Garcia said, her voice like iron even as her lower lip trembled. “She stabbed that son of a bitch the moment she got the chance and she ran until someone found her.” 

“She killed him?” JJ asked. 

Hotch let out a heavy sigh. Something like pride blossomed in his chest. Maybe it was vindication. He would have killed the bastard himself. 

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Reid asked, looking up at Hotch like a lost dog. 

“We all have secrets we’ve kept from each other,” Hotch told him, even though he was wondering the same thing. “Now we need to figure out if this is somehow related to why he took her.” 

There was a moment of silence hanging over the room. 

“Garcia, look into the lives of the other women again,” he continued. “See if there is any kind of connection.” 

“I’m on it.”

There was a new kind of determination in her voice, like a fire was lit underneath her.

“Videos of the other victims were sent to the families of the victims,” Hotch said, looking back at the rest of the team. “JJ, contact her brother, see if he’s received anything and tell him to contact us as soon as he is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the rest of us?” 

Once again, all eyes were on Hotch, expecting him to have all of the answers. But he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. 

“Do your jobs.”

___

When the video was sent to her family, it wasn’t her estranged brother who received it. 

“Hotch.” Morgan’s voice was shaking as he picked up the yellow envelope on his desk. “Hotch!” 

As soon as Hotch saw the package he knew what had to be in it. He had seen four of them before all from the previous victims’ families. His heart constricted in his chest. He knew what they were about to watch. Their team member, their friend. 

Grinding his teeth together to keep his face straight, Hotch took the package from Morgan and started back for the briefing room. 

“Do you want me to round up the team?” Morgan asked. 

“You guys shouldn’t have to watch this,” Hotch told him. 

“You’re not watching it alone.” 

Without another word, Morgan went to collect the others. 

Once they were all in the briefing room, Garcia put the recording onto the big screen. 

“You don’t-” 

“We’re staying,” JJ said, her fingers laced with Emily’s. 

Hotch nodded once before looking over at Garcia and signaling her to start the video. 

As soon as Garcia hit the play button, Morgan put an arm around her shoulder and she put a hand up to her mouth. Hotch leaned against a chair, his knuckles going white. 

The screen was black for a few moments. When it turned on, Agent Evelyn Caro was sitting half naked on a cot. Bruises littered her body, her ribs on the left side blackened. A cut ran across a purple cheek with dried blood running down her face. One of her eyes was black. But Caro stared straight ahead of her, eyes made of steal. 

“Oh, baby,” Garcia breathed. 

The room was small, bland. It looked cold. 

A man stepped into the frame. Caro didn’t even look at him, she just kept staring straight ahead. Before he even said anything, he raised a hand and slapped her across the face. Reid flinched, but none of them turned away. Their attention needed to be on this video, gleaning as much information as they could to get her home. Hotch refused to let her suffering go to waste. He would watch every second of it, no matter how much his stomach burned with hatred. 

Caro barely reacted to the backhand, her head snapping to the side, but the rest of her body stayed in the same place, her hands clasped together in her lap. When she straightened her head, blood trickled down from her lip. She lifted a hand to wipe the blood away before looking up at the man. Her eyes carried the heat of a thousand suns as she looked at her assailant, almost as if daring him to touch her again. That was the Caro that Hotch knew. She would never back down, never give in. 

“What do you want?” She asked. 

Hearing her voice so raw sent a chill down Hotch’s spine. Everything about this was wrong. 

“I know what happened to you when you were young,” the man said, walking in front of her. 

Caro clenched her jaw and turned her face forward once again, seeming to pretend that he wasn’t there. 

“Does this feel familiar to you?” the man asked, spinning in a circle. “The room, the bed, the chain.” 

Hotch’s eyes shifted away from Caro and he looked more at the bed. There was indeed a chain attached to the metal of the bed frame. Caro’s jaw tightened again and Hotch watched as she ran a finger over a scar he had seen on her wrist a million times before but never asked her about. He could only imagine a young Agent Caro, chained to a bed. She carried that scar around with her and he had never even cared enough to ask her about it. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Caro said.

The man sat next to her and still Caro didn’t flinch. Not even her breathing changed. Amidst his anger and his fear, Hotch felt pride. Damn right she would not even acknowledge him. Hotch expected nothing less from her. Though he wouldn’t fault her if she did. 

The Unsub put his hand on her knee and Hotch’s eyes went red. His ears rang, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He watched Caro look down at the Unsub’s hand and Hotch noticed a slight tremble in her body. Her shaking was rage, not fear. He knew her well enough to know that. 

“What do you want?” The tremor reached her voice. Hotch could see her holding back from killing the unsub then and there. Her restraint told him that her captor was the only way out of her room. If she killed him now, she would be trapped. 

The unsub sighed and tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“I want to break you,” he said.

Hotch clenched his jaw, but still Caro’s face stayed straight. She didn’t even blink. The words ‘I dare you to try’ never even passed her lips, but it was a clear challenge in her eyes. 

The image cut and Hotch almost thought that was going to be the end. But then it suddenly clicked on. Caro was slowly sitting up from laying on the bed. The unsub was halfway in the frame, buckling his belt. Hotch heard a quiet ‘oh’ come from Garcia and when he glanced over at her, he noticed tears in Morgan’s eyes. 

Caro seemed stiff as she sat up. The chain that had before been only attached to the bed was now shackled to her wrist. Hotch watched her grimace as she moved her feet to the ground. Her toes curled, telling Hotch that the ground was cold. The entire room must have been freezing. 

A silence hung over the team as they waited for something to happen. 

“You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” the unsub said. Caro refused to look at him. “The other girls gave in at this point.” 

“And then you killed them.” Caro looked over at him, moving slowly and clearly despite the pain that was obvious settling into her bones. 

The unsub shrugged his shoulders, a proud smile on his face. 

“Some girls seem to think that death is better than what I did to them,” he said. “But maybe you kind of like it.” 

Caro pulled harshly against her chain, shutting her eyes and turning her face away from him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rossi breathed. Hotch refrained from looking back at him. 

“How does she not strangle him?” JJ asked. Her words were tight from the swelling in her throat. 

“He’s her only way out of that room,” Hotch told her. “She kills him and she starves in there.” 

“Not if we find her.” 

They fell quiet again, just soon enough to hear a low rumble of a laugh from the man. 

“I see I struck a nerve.” The unsub said. 

Caro steadied her breathing and straightened her shoulders. 

“I’m not surprised you’ve lasted longer than the other girls, being an FBI agent and all. I wonder how your friends are doing.” 

Caro pulled against the chain again, her eyes squeezing tighter. 

“Ah, another nerve. Should we poke at that one a bit more?” 

The unsub stepped out of the frame. For the briefest moment, with his back turned on her, Caro’s eyes flicked toward the camera. 

“She knows it’s there,” Reid said. “She knows about the camera.” 

Caro sucked in a deep breath and gave a short nod of her head. She knew her taker’s MO. She knew about the videos and the envelope. She knew they were watching her, and she was telling them that she was okay. 

When the unsub walked back into frame, he was holding something in his hands. With his back to the camera, they couldn’t get a good look at what he was holding.

“I am aware that your brother is the only remaining relative of yours who will speak to you, is that correct?” The unsub said.

Caro breathed deeply in once, her eyes staring straight through the unsub.

“This is him and his wife, their two daughters. Beautiful family. When was the last time you spoke to them?”

Agent Caro’s eyes moved from the unsub to the object in his hand and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. The unsub clicked his tongue.

“It’s the shame, isn’t it? It eats you up inside. You can’t bear the thought of tainting your brother and his perfect family with your past.”

She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“This is Penelope Garcia, yes?”

Garcia straightened her back, surprised at hearing her name.

Caro opened her eyes and Hotch noticed a drastic shift in her breathing. Once steady and calm, her chest now rose and fell at an uneven pace. Her eyes darted between whatever the unsub was holding and his face.

“Jennifer Jareau?”

The unsub tossed something onto the bed next to Caro. And then another.

“David Rossi?”

For the first time, Caro flinched as he flicked what Hotch was starting to realize was a picture in her direction.

“Emily Prentiss. Spencer Reid.”

Two more pictures were thrown at her and Caro flinched twice more.

“Derek Morgan.”

A fire lit in Caro’s eyes as she stared up at him again.

“Aaron Hotchner.”

Before he could even throw the picture her way, Caro jumped up from the bed and charged at him, pulling on the chair.

“If you touch them, I swear I’ll kill you,” she seethed.

The unsub shoved her backward onto the bed, but she scrambled up again. He hit her across the face, sending her back with a yelp. Breathing heavily, she turned to look at him, like a rabid dog.

“That’s a hard promise to make seeing as you are chained to a bed and I am not.”

“She has to know that he can’t hurt us,” Emily said, looking to Hotch for answers.

“She’s panicking,” Hotch replied. His knuckles tightened over the chairs.

“You think I won’t go after them?” the unsub said as he dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

Caro turned her face away from him and shook her head.

“You can’t,” she said. Her voice was growing weak, shaking more. “They’re FBI, you can’t just-“

She didn’t get the chance to finish before the unsub threw a fist across her face.

“I won’t even have to hurt them though, will I?” The unsub sneered, bending down close to her face. “I bet by now they know every dark secret about your past. Every skeleton in your closet. They know about the blood on your hands.”

Hotch had read her file that Garcia dug up a thousand times over in the last few days since she found it. Something in him told him he had to, though another part of him wanted to wait until Caro was there to tell him herself. But she deserved better than for her story to go unknown. She deserved to have someone know.

“No,” Caro whimpered.

“You really think they’ll accept you after that?” The unsub let out a laugh.

“Evie, we love you,” Garcia said as she took a step forward. “Evie-“

“Garcia, quiet,” Hotch said, putting out a hand.

“Sir, she has to know, she has to know.”

Morgan put his arm back around Garcia and pulled her in for a hug.

“She knows,” he whispered to her.

“You lost your family once because of what you did to your uncle,” the unsub said. “Now you’ll lose another.”

“No!”

Caro threw herself at the unsub once again, her fists flying. Hotch had seen her fight before. She was well trained, and she was calculated, confident. But this was animalistic. This was pure instinct. Her punches were weak and light, hitting the places of the unsub where very little damage would be done. The chain prevented any real effort from her, though the bed shook and rattled as she yanked against the metal. It didn’t take him long to wrestle her onto the bed, pinning her down by her arms.

Her face was clearly displayed to the camera. She breathed sporadically, panting and gasping for air. Sweat beaded down her battered face. Her eyes were wide and flitting back and forth, terrified.

“How would you feel if I paid one of them a visit, huh?” The unsub asked, his nose brushing against her cheek.

Caro struggled, a growl of frustration strangled in her sore throat.

“That Spencer Reid lives alone, doesn’t he?”

Rossi put a hand on Reid’s shoulder, who had suddenly gone pale.

“Don’t touch him!” She thrashed again, trying to throw the unsub off of her. She tried to kick her feet, but they were effectively pinned under her by the weight of the unsub. She grunted and groaned in the effort it took to try and get him off of her.

“I doubt it would take much to strangle that skinny neck of his.”

Caro suddenly stopped struggled. The sweat that pooled down her cheeks suddenly started to look more like tears as her body went still.

“Please don’t hurt them,” she said, her voice quiet.

“What, you don’t want me creeping into Emily’s apartment tonight, pay her a little visit?”

Caro let out a quiet sound, something that was almost like a sob.

“Please.”

“What will you do for me in return?” He asked, pressing still closer to her face.

Caro rolled her head back and forth on the bed and Hotch could see the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

She just nodded her head, lower lip quavering.

“Don’t give up, baby girl,” Morgan whispered. Garcia clung tighter to his hand.

“Well, well,” the unsub said with a sigh as he sat up, releasing Caro from his hold. Her body sagged even further into the cot. He stepped away from the cot and bent down to pick up some of the pictures that fell to the floor. “There isn’t really anything I want from you just now, so I might go and visit one of your friends just to keep you on your toes.”

“No!” Caro leapt from the bed and attached herself to the unsub’s back.

He threw her against back against the cot. Hotch could see him lift his hand to deliver hit after hit to his agent, but he was grateful that the unsub’s back blocked the view of the camera. He didn’t think he could stand to watch her get beaten.

Caro was surprisingly silent as the unsub hit her.

It was over relatively quickly. The unsub straightened himself out, squaring his shoulders. Without a word, he turned to the camera and walked toward it. Caro let out a quiet groan just before the unsub picked up the camera and shut it off.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the team.

“What the hell did we just watch?” Emily asked, setting her eyes on Hotch.

They were once again expecting him to have all the answers, but he had nothing to say. His hands were cramping from how hard he was clenching onto the chair. It took all the strength in him not to throw it across the room. Caro should be here with them, not in that room, not with that man.

“Garcia, can you play the end again and turn up the volume?” Rossi asked.

“No offense, sir,” Garcia said, teary eyed. “But I can’t watch that again.”

“Just the very end, as he’s walking toward the camera. Agent Caro said something.”

“Did she?” JJ asked, crossing her arms.

Garcia pressed a few buttons on her laptop and the video returned. Hotch was almost tempted to look away. The audio was louder as the unsub heaved out an exhausted sigh and started walking toward the camera. And then they heard it, the quiet groan. But it wasn’t a groan at all. She had said something, just a quiet name.

His name.

Aaron.

___

Sitting at his desk, Hotch couldn’t seem to lift his heavy head from his hands. The window, which was almost always closed, was wide open. His office was too stuffy, too hot. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t get the sound of his name from her lips out of his head.

A knock came to his door and he finally lifted his head. Rossi was standing there with his usual “something is wrong and I’m going to fix it” face. Hotch wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for this conversation.

“What can I do for you, David?”

“We have to talk about what just happened,” Rossi said.

“I don’t really think-“

“Aaron, listen to me,” Rossi said, walking into the room. “Evelyn needs you right now.”

“There’s nothing I can do that the team isn’t already doing.”

“She said your name.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?” Hotch’s tone was a little sharper than he meant it to be. He let out a sigh and stretched out his fingers.

Rossi sat down across from him.

“Why? We all know that she’s closest with Morgan, so why say your name?” Rossi asked. Hotch squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. The exhaustion headache that was plaguing him wasn’t helping the fact that thinking about who Caro was and wasn’t closest with lit a fire in his gut. “And why your first name? She only ever called you Hotch, like the rest of us.”

“That’s not true,” Hotch said, memorizing the lines on his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Rossi.

“What isn’t?”

“She’s called me Aaron.”

“When?”

“When she was angry with me,” Hotch said. The thought of it pained him. He could hear her sharp tone, the way she hissed his name like venom. When she thought he was too cold, too apathetic.

“Or….”

“Or what?”

There was another time when she called him Aaron. Three other times.

On the worst day of his life, when he held Hayley’s body in his arms, Caro had sat next to him on the floor. People were calling his name. “Hotch, Hotch, Hotchner.”

She sat there on the ground and whispered his name just once, “Aaron.” It was quiet, like a pin dropping during a storm. But still he heard her.

“Aaron, your son,” she said.

That decision, to stay with Hayley or go find Jack, tore his soul into pieces until she spoke again.

“I’ll stay with her.”

The second time was a few weeks after Hayley’s death. Hotch wasn’t handling it well, or at all. She saw right through the façade that he had put forward. He was at the office late one night and so was she. Even when he tried to send her home, she politely refused, saying there was a lot of work she needed to get done.

He spent hours in his office, the grief and the sorrow and the shame building and building and building until he was suddenly standing over his desk. Everything here reminded him of Hayley. The baseball, the picture of Jack, even the piles of papers that were stacked high, shaming him for not being there for her more.

The only way to keep himself from crying was to let the anger take over. Anger at Foyet, anger at the job, anger at the world, anger at himself. Forgetting where he was, Hotch had dumped everything off of his desk with one sweep of his arm.

Collapsing to the ground, Hotch didn’t remember how long he sat there, leaning against his desk, hyperventilating, until Caro walked in. She didn’t say anything to him. She just lowered herself to the ground next to him, letting out a long sigh. She just sat there, breathing louder than Hotch was used to her breathing, but he found after a few minutes that his breathing began to match hers. A calmness returned to his body, at least enough to breathe normally.

“Aaron?”

He turned to look at her, the edges of his eyes lined with red.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Hotch nodded his head. He pushed himself to his feet before helping Caro to hers.

“I’ll drive,” she said, stepping around all of the things on the ground.

“What about-“

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” Caro had said. “Come on.”

She talked to him all the way back to the car. She asked if he wanted to talk about what made him dump all of his stuff on the ground. When he said no, she asked him about Jack instead. It felt comfortable to talk to her about his son, even though he tried to keep personal life and business separated. He had never really talked to her about anything other than work, except for the times when the team would go out to eat, back when Hayley would come with them. She would talk about her brother, his family, but very vaguely.

Now he supposed he knew why she was always so vague.

The third time she called him Aaron, they were on a case. Young girls being kidnapped, assaulted, and dumped. This was one of many cases just like it. Hotch couldn’t even remember what town they were in now. All he remembered was walking by Caro’s hotel room and feeling like he needed to go inside. Something pulled him to a stop outside her door that night and he couldn’t ignore it.

He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a respond before he opened in.

Caro was still up, even though they had left hours ago. She had skipped the meal they all shared together, which was unlike her. She sat at her desk, the lamp on but not the overhead light. The case that they were working was laid out in front of her. When she looked up at him, startled that he had come in, her eyes were red and he couldn’t tell if it was all of the reading or if it was something else.

“What can I do for you, Hotch?” Caro asked, one of her legs propped up on the swivel chair.

“I….” He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “….wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

Caro’s lips pulled into an amused smile.

“You never check on me.”

“Maybe now’s the time to start.”

They were quiet for a few moments until Caro let out a sigh. She patted the bed, signaling for him to sit.

“These cases, the ones with the young girls, they’re hard,” Caro told him after he sat down.

Hotch felt like a foreigner sitting there and talking to her, awkward as he sat on her bed, like it shouldn’t be him here doing this. But she seemed so eager to talk, like she was just waiting for someone to ask.

“I understand,” Hotch said finally, looking at the carpet. “They’re hard on all of us.”

“Aaron.”

At the sound of his name, he looked back at her and he could see the tears in her eyes. He didn’t realize it then, but she had been begging him to understand so she didn’t have to say. She didn’t want to have to say it.

He couldn’t sleep that night and he didn’t know why.

“She called you Aaron when she was mad at you or….” Rossi’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Or she needs me to listen.”

“So, what does she need you to hear?”

___

“He knows her,” Hotch said suddenly, startling the life out of the half sleeping agents.

“What?” Morgan asked, sitting up.

“The unsub knows her. There is no way that he learned all of this about her at the meeting they went to. No way he could have replicated the room that she was kept in when she was a child unless he had personal information.”

“He knew everything about her…and us…before he even took her,” Rossi said, his voice laced with awe. “Which means….”

“All those other murders were about getting her here.” Hotch felt his heart restrict in his chest. “This has all been about her. She was the piece we were missing.”

“Sir?” Garcia hurried into the room, meaning she had found something. “The link between all the victims, I think I found it.”

The team turned toward her.

“Evie is the link.” Garcia swiped up on her laptop, a couple different screens popping up on the big screen. “Sarah Jordans went to kindergarten with Evie. Paulette Bobin was the daughter of the police officer who found Evie after she escaped her uncle. Robin Everard was her high school drama teacher’s niece. Celia Hough was the sister of a woman she walked dogs for in middle school. They weren’t close enough to Evie for her to recognize them, but they were all a part of her life in some way.”

Hotch looked over at Rossi and shook his head.

“It’s been about Caro all along. All of it.”

“That means that the place she’s being held is about her too,” Morgan said. “More than just making the room look the same. He’s holding her somewhere that means something to her.”

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning his attention back to the tech analyst. “Who owns the uncle’s house now?”

“You think he took her back there?”

“She said the room looked exactly the same. Maybe because it was the same.”

“The house passed onto his wife’s son when he died,” Garcia said.

“Where is the son now?”

“He is….” They all watched her carefully, waiting for the last piece of information. “…. He changed his name just after his father’s funeral to….”

Hotch turned back to the screen, where the picture of the unsub was plastered so none of them would forget it.

“Ralph Bennet,” Morgan said, venom in his words. “The unsub.”

“How did she not recognize her own cousin?”

“His father and mother got divorced when he was young. He didn’t even know he had a step-dad who was still alive until he was dead,” Garcia said.

“So, Ralph Bennet was the step-son of Caro’s uncle. He feels like he has to punish her for taking another father figure away from him,” added Reid.

“He wants her to pay. He wants to hurt her in any way possible.”

“He’s got her at her old house.”

___

Evelyn could barely see. Her eyes were weak and tired, partially from the crying and partially from the lack of sleep. She was terrified of letting her eyes shut, of letting her guard down. She needed to stay awake, to keep her guard up. But she couldn’t take her eyes away from the red stain on the floor.

The cot mattress was itching her skin. If she could ignore the itching, she would begin to feel the sting of the metal chain against her skin. She preferred the itching.

A thud from downstairs echoed to her room. The attic. Pretending like this wasn’t that room she had been kept in for all those years was the only thing that was keeping her from breaking down, but that wall between what she pretended was real and reality was growing thin.

Breathing in through her nose, Evelyn shut her eyes and imagined herself back in her apartment, safe and warm. In her hands was a cup of tea, chamomile with only one sprinkling of sugar. It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough that she could hear it pattering against the window. Her dog slept at her feet, breathing softly. In her lap was-

Another thud from downstairs, tearing Evelyn from her fantasy. She opened her eyes and looked toward the door.

“Ralph?” She called out, voice hoarse. There was no response.

When the door burst open suddenly, Evelyn yelped and jumped backward, curling her legs in on herself.

Ralph stood there, his face red and sweat beading down his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, curling up tighter.

Ralph let out a growl of frustration and started toward her.

“Ralph- no!” Evelyn kicked out at him, but he grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “What are you-“

“Shut up,” Ralph snapped, unlacing the chains around her wrist. “We’re leaving.”

“What-“

“I said shut up!”

He tugged down hard on the chain, making it dig deeper into the wound around her wrist. Evelyn hissed in pain, but she quieted as he told her. There was another thud from downstairs and Evelyn snapped her head in the direction of the sound. Things were slowly starting to come together; Ralph’s shaking hands, his red face, the thudding downstairs.

Evelyn looked between Ralph and the door. She sat a still as she could while his trembling hands, waiting for the just right moment. As soon as the chains were loose, Evelyn slipped her wrist out of the chain, kicked Ralph over with as little strength as she had, and ran for the door.

“Aaron!”

Her cry echoed through the house just before Ralph grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He hissed, dragging her back into the room.

“Caro?”

Evelyn gasped through Ralph’s hand at the sound of Hotch’s voice, trying to shout back. She struggled against Ralph as he pulled her back to the bed, thrashing her shoulders to try and break free.

“Agent Caro?”

I’m here, Hotch, I’m here.

Ralph threw the weak Evelyn onto the bed and backhanded her across the face so hard that her head started to spin. She stretched her jaw, blinking away the blackness in her vision.

“Evie!” From somewhere far away, she thought she could hear her best friend, Derek Morgan, calling for her. She opened her mouth to call back, but all she felt was numbness.

By the time she finally felt like she could see again, there was someone else in the doorway. At first glance, she thought it was Ralph, but he was still there in the room with her. The man in the doorway had a gun, the man in the doorway was Aaron Hotchner.

“Ralph Bennet, step away,” Hotch said.

Evelyn watched, head blurry as Ralph did as he was told, backing away from her. But he was going the wrong way. There was something wrong that way. Something she needed to tell Hotch about.

“You came for me,” she said, trying to smile.

“Are you okay, Caro?”

Evelyn could feel the headache behind her eyes begin to fade. She nodded her head once, letting her eyes close. There was something she needed to tell him, something really important.

“There’s something,” she said, shaking her head to try and clear it. “Over there-“

Before Evelyn could even finish, Ralph stepped forward and swung a bat at Hotch, the bat that Evelyn knew was in the corner. The bat that broke her ribs. That was what she needed to tell Hotch about. But now it was too late.

The bat knocked Hotch’s gun out of his hands and onto the ground. Hotch wasted no time in jumping into action, springing at Ralph without a second thought. Evelyn tried to shake herself out of her stoper. She would be no help to anyone weary. Even if malnutrition and the beating she got that morning were the cause of her exhaustion, she wanted to be of more help.

Hotch knocked Ralph backward, but Ralph held tight to the bat in his hands, using it to push Hotch backward. It was hard for Evelyn to follow the fight, her eyes not able of following every hit and swing. When her eyes finally caught up with what was happening, the ringing in her ears starting to fade, Evelyn found that Hotch was on the ground, Ralph standing over him with the baseball bat, ready to bash his head in.

Evelyn pushed herself off of the bed, her legs weak and shaking, and ran toward Ralph.

“Don’t touch him!” She growled, reaching up to grab hold of the bat.

“Let go, bitch!”

It didn’t take much for Ralph to throw Evelyn’s grip off the bat, but only by throwing the bat out of his hands as well. She hit the ground with a thud, the force rattling through her bones. Ralph immediately turned his attention back to Hotch, who was still on the ground but in a less vulnerable state.

On the ground with Evelyn were the bat and the forgotten gun, but they were all the way on the other side of the room. She didn’t know if she could make it there and back before her legs gave out.

She was laying on the ground by the edge of the bed, hearing Hotch and Ralph go at it. There had to be something that she could do. She had to do something. As she pushed herself up, Evelyn’s had grazed over the chain, the chain that had been used to keep her tied to this bed for days. Looking up at Ralph, Evelyn dug into all that bitterness and all the rage that she had been brewing for the past twenty years of her life and found some ounce of strength.

Strength enough to wrap her hands around the chain. Strength enough to pick to chain off the ground. Strength enough to stand.

With Ralph paying attention to Hotch, his back was left exposed to her. He didn’t think she had the strength left. He thought he broke her.

But she was unbreakable.

Wrapping the chain around one of her hands, she walked up behind Ralph and swung the chain around his neck. He let out a startled gasp, lifting a hand, but not before Evelyn grabbed the chain with her open hand and pulled. Ralph stumbled backward into her. He slapped at her hands. He tried to hit her with the back of his head.

But the adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her strong. She pulled tighter, tensing her hands.

Ralph gagged and Evelyn scrunched her nose. He let out a gurgling sound and Evelyn groaned as the muscles in her arms began to cramp from the tightness. But still she did not let go.

Hotch stood, his lip bleeding and his eye beginning to bruise. Ralph and Evelyn stumbled over; he fell to the ground and she landed on the bed, never once letting the chain go slack.

“Agent Caro,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

Evelyn only pulled tighter. Ralph smacked at her hands lamely, choking sounds gurgling from his throat. His legs kicked out, struggling in the same way that she had been. His legs kicked and his body twitched and his arms flailed out and he maybe felt an ounce of the terror that Evelyn had.

“Caro.”

Evelyn’s face twisted she breathed heavily, pulling tighter against the chain until Ralph’s eyes were rolling.

“Evelyn.”

She froze, looking up at him. All the tension in her face faded as her eyes met Hotch’s. She always used his first name when she needed him to listen to her, but now it was her turn to listen to him. Ralph gasped for the air that was slowly entering his lungs.

“You can let him go.”

Evelyn remembered that scared little girl she was all those years ago. There had been no other option then. It was just her, her uncle, and the knife in her hand. It was kill him or live the rest of her life in a prison. She felt like that again. Alone, terrified, trapped, cornered. There was no other way out.

“You’re safe now, Evelyn,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

She wasn’t alone anymore. Hotch was here with her. She wasn’t that terrified little girl with no way out. She was an FBI agent. She had grown and she had learned and she was no longer alone. Her team had come from her. Her family had found her.

She let go of the chain, pulling her legs onto the bed. Ralph heaved in lung fulls of air, but Evelyn kept her eyes on Hotch. He took a step toward them, pulling out his handcuffs. Evelyn flinched away, pulling her legs in tighter.

“These aren’t for you,” Hotch told her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Relaxing her muscles as best as she could, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

She sat there on the bed while Hotch roughly rolled a still coughing Ralph onto his stomach to handcuff him. Once the handcuffs were on, Hotch turned back to Evelyn, who was still staring at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

It was hard for Hotch to say that he didn’t enjoy beating Ralph into the ground. He shouldn’t want to keep beating the shit out of the man now that he was in handcuffs, but seeing those tears in her eyes made Hotch want to. He had been tempted to let Evelyn kill Ralph. She deserved that bit of closure. But he knew the guilt that she already carried, the guilt she would carry on top of that. He knew because he carried that same guilt.

Still, he wanted to see that monster dead. He wanted to wipe those tears from her eyes before they even had a chance to fall.

“Caro-“

“Evie!”

Morgan burst into the room, his eyebrows pinched together in worry. Evelyn tore her gaze away from Hotch at the sound of Morgan’s voice.

“Derek.” The relief in her voice as she said his name made Hotch’s stomach drop.

Morgan rushed toward the bed and dropped to his knees in front of it. He reached forward and pulled the tattered blanket on the bed up and around Evelyn’s shoulders, covering her. Evelyn just stared at him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. Morgan brushed hair from out of her face as a smile began to pull at his lips. His smile made her almost able to break a grin too.

When Morgan first put his arms around Evelyn, het body immediately tensed. She expected to be surrounded by Ralph’s smell, feel his clammy skin on hers. But it was Morgan’s smell; that expensive cologne she had bought for his birthday mixed with the laundry detergent he always used. He held her tight. Even when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to look down enough to see Ralph, which was probably Morgan’s intention. She would have done the same thing.

The adrenaline had succeeded in keeping her heart rate steady, but now that Morgan was holding her, her heart started to pound.

Hotch grabbed Ralph off the ground and hoisted him to his feet. Evelyn listened as he shoved Ralph down the stairs, Ralph grunting and groaning all the way down.

It wasn’t until they could no longer hear him that Morgan pulled away. She didn’t want to let him go, afraid that she would begin to crumble without him there. Morgan put a hand on her cheek and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s get you home.”

___

The first worst part about walking down those stairs was remembering the last time she had done this. That red stain on the floor had been there for twenty years. Evelyn had left her uncle bleeding out on the floor while she stumbled down the stairs, dazed, terrified. She knew the blood was the same because she had been covered in it too.

The second worst part was when everyone turned to look at her.

JJ, Emily, Reid, and Rossi were all in the downstairs of the house. They had holstered their guns, but Emily still had her hand on hers. The stairs were too narrow for Morgan to walk alongside her, so he held her hand as he walked in front of her. She was almost hesitant to take that final step, terrified of how the others would look at her.

When they heard the stair creak, they all turned their heads toward Evelyn. She froze, her blood running cold. She expected the concerned stares, the pitied eyes, it was all she got last time. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eyes.

JJ walked toward her, stopping only a few feet away.

“Can I hug you?” JJ asked.

Evelyn looked up to see that there were tears in her friend’s eyes, but a smile on her face. There was no pity, only relief.

Slowly, Evelyn nodded her head. JJ didn’t need to be told twice. She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around Evelyn’s neck. Emily was next, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head. Reid’s hug was awkward, shaky.

“If you ever need to talk,” he said quietly.

Evelyn nodded her head. She knew that he understood what it was like, to be taken and held against your will. She gave him a gentle smile that he returned. Rossi was the last to approach her. He had teary smile on his face as well. He didn’t hug her entirely, but instead put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her toward him to press a kiss against her forehead.

“C’mon,” Morgan said. “Ambulance is out here.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Evelyn said, looking over at him and giving a shake of your head.

Morgan raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Same old Evelyn.” He put an arm around her shoulder, as he always did. The action was simple, but it was enough to make her smile, to make her feel normal. “But yes, we’re taking you to the hospital.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but let him lead her outside to the ambulance. Hotch was already out there, talking quietly to the EMT. Ralph must have gone in a different police car. He was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital?” Morgan said once she had a quick once over by the EMT.

“You’re not going to ride with me?” She asked. Evelyn hoped that the fear of being alone again that she was feeling didn’t show through in her voice.

“Hotch’ll go with you.”

Morgan dropped a hand on Hotch’s shoulder, who wore his usual scowl, his arms crossed. He turned toward Morgan, who raised his eyebrows and walked away.

“I’ll be right back,” the EMT said before turning and walking away.

Evelyn sat on the bed, still wearing the blanket Morgan had wrapped around her. Her stomach twisted as Hotch walked toward her. She kept her eyes at the ground, chewing on the inside of her lip. She could feel only shame as he looked at her. Maybe it was because he could see the bruises and the cuts and the blood. Maybe it was because she was at her lowest and he was her boss who should only ever see her at her best. Maybe it was because he had to talk her down from choking the life out of a man. Maybe it was some combination of everything.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, leaning up against the ambulance.

Evelyn nodded her head slowly. She would have responded with a decisive yes, but her mouth had gone too dry to talk.

“That’s a stupid question, of course you’re not okay,” Hotch muttered and looked down at his feet.

“I’m okay,” Evelyn affirmed. “I’m okay.”

When he looked back up at her, Evelyn was surprised to see his eyes were watery.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get you sooner.”

Evelyn shook her head as aggressively as she could manage.

“I knew you would come, Hotch,” she told him. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault.”

Hotch let out an almost bitter laugh.

“I should be saying that to you.” Hotch looked at her in such a way that made Evelyn’s stomach squeeze. “All this time, and you’re still looking after me.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile in return.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course.”

The EMT returned, telling Hotch that they were getting ready to go. He pulled himself into the ambulance and the EMT followed after him.

“Lie back,” the EMT said. Evelyn did as she was told, feeling a suffocating feeling settling on her chest as she stared up at the white ceiling. The sting of tears returned to her eyes and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to hold them back.

Her hands tensed at her side, clenching around the blanket of the gurney. Hotch, now sitting in the chair beside her, reached out and took her hand in his. She turned her head to look at him, sniffing in deeply.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hotch told her before giving her a sharp nod.

Evelyn nodded back at him, breathing in deeply. She let go of the blanket and shifted her hand around until her fingers were laced through his. She didn’t know how comfortable he was with holding her hand, but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed someone’s hand to hold. She needed his hand to hold.

She wasn’t in the hospital for very long, which she was grateful for. Garcia got there as soon as Evelyn was released and put a pair of shaking arms around her, already dissolved into tears. Evelyn laughed, grateful for her friend’s antics.

“I love you so much,” Garcia said, her tears watering Evelyn’s neck.

She had ditched the gross blanket and was currently sporting a wonderful hospital gown and Hotch’s coat.

“Are you staying somewhere? Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got some clothes and a warm bed and I can make you some tea-“

“I really appreciate it, Pen,” Evelyn said, “But Hotch offered me a bed already.”

Garcia stopped her rambling to stare at her, glancing behind Evelyn to where Hotch was talking to the rest of the team.

“Hotch offered-? Right, okay. That’s good. I still brought you some clothes to wear. Come with me.”

“O-okay.”

Garcia led Evelyn to the bathroom to put her in some clothes.

“As soon as they went to get you, I went home to grab you some clothes.” Garcia dropped her bag on the ground. Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing. It was sweet of her friend, but Evelyn didn’t think she needed that many clothes for a few nights. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Evelyn stepped into one of the stalls and pulled a thin sweater on over her head and a pair of sweatpants. It wasn’t the cutest outfit, but it was comfortable, and it covered her ill looking body, so it would do.

Penelope was wiping tears away when Evelyn stepped out of the stall. Evelyn smiled at her and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“I’m okay, Pen.”

“Evie-“

“I’m really okay. I promise.”

Penelope let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Can I have a smile? It’ll make me feel better,” Evelyn said in a sing-songy, letting her hands fall back to her side.

A smile tugged at Penelope’s lips and she turned away, letting out a little laugh.

“There you go. Now the world’s right again.”

Evelyn and Penelope left the bathroom and rejoined the group just as Hotch was finishing his little speech.

“Go home, everybody. Get some sleep. We’ll come back to work on Monday,” Hotch was saying.

“Thank you,” Evelyn piped up before they turned to go their separate ways. “For everything.”

___

Hotch opened the front door of his apartment. It was dark inside, only one of the lamps were on. It was silent, still. Part of it was reassuring, the stillness. Part of it was unsettling, the quiet.

She looked back at Hotch and he nodded his head, so she stepped inside.

It felt better once she was inside. It was warm, warmer than the attic.

She had never even imagined stepping into Hotch’s home. She expected it to be stiff and cold like his office was, impersonal. But it was lively, with pictures hung on the walls and décor covering shelves full of books. Evelyn wondered absent-mindedly how much of it was Hayley’s sister or if Hotch had a secret interior designer in him somewhere. The thought made her smile.

“You’ll sleep through here,” Hotch said, his voice in a hushed tone. Jack was probably already in bed.

“Your room?” She asked, keeping her voice equally as low.

Hotch nodded.

“I’m not going to displace you,” Evelyn said. “I can sleep on the couch.”

On the couch, there was already a blanket and pillow set up.

“No, Caro. I can’t let you sleep on a couch your first day back,” Hotch said, giving his head a shake.

“Hotch, seriously-“

“Agent Caro…”

Evelyn tilted her head down and raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re using your boss voice on me.”

To her amazement, Hotch actually smiled. He was looser here, less uptight. Something about passing into his house must have been some kind of release. Domestic Hotch was very different than at work Hotch.

“Fine,” Evelyn said. “But only for tonight.”

“I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She turned down the hall as Hotch walked toward the couch. Evelyn stopped, turning to say one last thing to him, but she decided against it. He sat with his back to her, taking off his shoes. She watched him let out a deep sigh and roll tension out of his shoulders. Evelyn couldn’t help but think that she was the cause of that tension and the sooner she was out of his hair the better.

It was strange, standing by Hotch’s bed. This would be the first warm, safe bed she would be falling in to and it wasn’t her own, it was Hotch’s. It felt wrong to touch. It wasn’t hers. Even if he had said she could, it wasn’t hers. This bed belonged to someone else. Hotch’s permission didn’t feel like the only permission she needed.

On the bedside table, there was a picture. Hotch, Jack, and Hayley, all huddled together and smiling. Evelyn felt herself smiling as she looked at it. Reaching out her hand, she ran a finger along the picture frame.

“I hope it’s okay with you,” Evelyn whispered, looking at the picture of Hotch’s late wife.

They’d met a few times in the past and she was just the gentlest woman. She loved Hotch and she loved her son. There she was, staring up at Evelyn and smiling. But the only image that Evelyn had of her in her mind was Hayley’s limp body, the blood that stained her shirt.

Turning away from the picture, Evelyn pulled the blankets back before she kept overthinking. She dropped the bag that Garcia had given her onto the ground, flicked off her shoes and socks, and crawled into bed.

The warmth of the blankets was strange to her. Even her own bed wasn’t as warm as this one was. Still trying not to over think it, Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side. She breathed in deeply and was overwhelmed by his scent. With a heavy sigh, she rolled back onto her back and opened her eyes.

“Get over yourself, Evelyn,” she whispered to herself.

Breathing in slowly and steadily, Evelyn let her brain relax. She went to that safe place in her mind, that place far away. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, safe and warm in that room where no one could reach her.

It wasn’t until blood started to seep through the walls that she realized she was asleep.

She woke up to someone screaming. The sound echoed off the walls of the bedroom. Someone was crying.

“Caro. Caro.” Someone was calling her name. Someone close by. Someone far away.

“Evelyn!”

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. The room was still dark, but the bedside lamp was turned on. The blankets were half on the floor. She had been throwing them off when she kicked her legs. Hotch was sitting in front of her. Not just sitting in front of her, but holding onto her shoulders. He had been shaking her. There was worry on his face, his eyes wide. Behind him was Jack, tears rolling down his face.

He was the one who was crying. That must have meant she was the one who was screaming.

“You’re okay,” Hotch said. “You were just dreaming.”

Evelyn lifted her hands to her face to find that there were tears on her cheeks.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said, a scowl in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head. He looked tired. She must have woken him up.

“Is she okay?” Jack asked and sniffled.

“She’s fine, Jack, go back to bed,” Hotch said. When Jack hesitated, Hotch gave him a smile. “It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

Jack nodded and shuffled out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered again, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hotch said again and dropped a hand onto her knee. “You’re safe here, no one can hurt you here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

Her hands were shaking too badly for her to say anything else. She already couldn’t remember the dream, but there was blood, so much blood. And she remembered she couldn’t breathe, like there was a chain wrapped around her neck.

Evelyn shut her eyes and put her shaking hands up to her head.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

Hotch let out a sigh. He was frustrated with her. The thought made tears sting her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

Even with her eyes closed, the tears still managed to slide down her cheeks. Hotch reached out his hand and rested it on the back of her neck. The contact only made her tears fall faster. She moved her hands to cover her face, ashamed of her reaction. Hotch pulled her in toward him and the closer she got to him, the harder she started to cry.

He put his other arm around her and she lowered her forehead to his shoulder, the sobs shaking her shoulders. But Hotch held her tight, one hand on the back of the neck, the other on her back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what she was really sorry for. Sorry for waking him up. Sorry for sleeping in his bed. Sorry for invading his space. Sorry for getting kidnapped. For getting in the way. For making his life harder. For setting them back from work for days.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s okay.”

At the sound of her name, she stopped her apologies. She heard her first name come from his mouth so rarely, she didn’t want to talk over him. She just wanted to hear him say it again. Finally letting her hands fall away from her eyes, she let her hands fall into her lap.  

“It’s not your fault, Evelyn,” he whispered, hesitantly letting his fingers lace through her hair.

She sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault and none of us are upset with you,” Hotch told her.

Slowly, her breathing started to return to normal, sucking in short, gasping breaths of air, but they were steadier.

He pulled away from her, brushing her damp hair out of her face and resting a hand on her cheek. She wouldn’t look at him, still taking shallow breaths, tears still rolling down her cheeks, body still shaking.

“None of us blame you for any of it,” he told her, leaning down to try and catch her eye. “And there’s nothing that could have ever happened to you or that you could have possibly done that wouldn’t make us come for you.”

He brushed a tear off of her cheek as it slid from her eye.

“Evelyn, look at me.”

It took her a moment, but she finally managed to lift her eyes to meet his. They were wide and terrified, trembling like the rest of her body. Hotch tightened his jaw.

“We’re not going anywhere. I know your last family left you after what happened, but I promise you, we are not going anywhere.” Evelyn let out another shuddered breath and nodded her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It took a few more moments to calm her down and by the time she had stopped crying, her eyes were getting heavy.

“Sleep now,” Hotch said, slowly standing up from the bed. She was still sitting up, her head hanging and her hands in her lap.

“Aaron?” He paused at the door and half turned toward her. “Will you….”

She scowled and cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“What can I do for you?”

She breathed out heavily and looked up at him again.

“Would you stay, here, with me?” She felt stupid, asking.

But he wasn’t looking at her in pity or loathing. He nodded his head before walking to the other side of the bed.

Evelyn laid back onto the pillow, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She closed her eyes, embarrassed to see him, as if her request was ridiculous and gross. But she didn’t think that she could have fallen asleep if she was on her own.

She felt the other side of the bed dip in and the blankets rustle.

“Do you want the light on?” He asked.

“You can turn it off if you’d like.”

The light flickered off and they were shrouded in darkness.

“Goodnight, Evelyn.”

“Night, Aaron.”

___

When Hotch woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty. He got used to the empty bed a long time ago, but there was a pit in his stomach this time. Evelyn should be there. She should be-

There was a smell coming from the kitchen. A pleasant smell.

Sitting up and stretching, Hotch made his way to the bedroom door. He heard laughing coming from the kitchen. When he opened the door, he had a direct line of sight to the kitchen. Jack was already awake, sitting happily at the table. There were usually only two chairs at that table, but Jack had pulled up a third.

Standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face was Evelyn. Jack was saying something to her, barely incoherent through all his laughter. Evelyn was just laughing along with him. Hotch shuffled through the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the corner of the and crossing his arms.

“What is going on here?” He asked with a smile on his face.

Evelyn and Jack both turned to him, both smiling.

“Eggs, bacon, French toast,” Evelyn said. “Want some?”

Hotch couldn’t help the smile on his face. He nodded, walking toward Jack and sitting down at the chair next to him.

It was strange, seeing Evelyn this way. She was generally serious at work, like he was. She would laugh and tease with Morgan and the girls and Reid, but Hotch was so used to her being solid, so stoic, so ready. But here she was, smiling and laughing and making jokes with him.

Evelyn walked over to the table carrying three plates of food and set them onto the table. She sat down, the biggest grin on her face.

“Dig in,” she said.

Hotch and Evelyn both knew that this happiness on her face went only so deep. Her suffering and her pain were just starting to bubble to the surface. But for now, she could eat this breakfast, laugh with Jack, pretend everything was okay.

“Would you like to watch my soccer game today, Evie?” Jack asked as they took the empty plates back to the kitchen.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, hesitant.

“That would be great, buddy,” she said before looking back at Hotch. “Would you mind?”

“No, of course not.”

Jack’s grin was the brightest Hotch had seen in a long time.

Hotch knew of course about Evelyn’s competitive nature. They had been working together for years. He had seen enough games between her and Morgan to know that she liked to win. He still somehow didn’t expect that much competition to come out of her during his son’s soccer match.

She yelled from the sidelines, cheering for Jack and shouting at the ref and even exchanging glares with other parents. It was hard not to be distracted by her as Hotch tried to coach his team, trying to keep his laughing to a minimum. When the game ended, after Hotch had a word with the players, Jack ran straight for Evelyn. He stopped just in front of her, remembering what his dad had told him about not getting too close, and grinned up at her.

Evelyn put her hand on his head and ruffled his sandy blond hair.

“You were great out there, kid,” she said. “You got the most goals on your team.”

“We, uh, don’t usually keep score,” Hotch said as he walked over.

Evelyn looked up at him with the brightest smile.

“Well, I did and your team did a great job.”

One of the other moms walked over, her daughter and Jack immediately engaging in teasing and chatting about the game as they tried to kick each other in their still guarded shins.

“My name is Mary,” the mother said, reaching a hand out for Evelyn to shake. Evelyn startled, her heart rate spiking at Mary’s sudden movement. She recovered quickly, shaking Mary’s hand.

“Evelyn Caro.”

“Are you and Aaron-“

“We work together,” Hotch said.

Mary nodded her head.

“That explains the….”

She gestured toward Evelyn’s face before pausing and forced a smile.

“Right.”

Evelyn had forgotten how horrible her face must look. She had been absently rolling the scab on her lip between her teeth all day. Her bruised and cut cheek was sore, her other eye throbbing every now and again. The battered shape of her face hadn’t even crossed her mind while she offered to go to Jack’s game.

Evelyn looked over Hotch for assistance. His smile was still there, but thinner.

“Mary, how is your husband?” Hotch asked, clearly trying to direct the attention away from Evelyn. She was grateful for it.

She listened to their conversation with a smile until Jack walked back over to them and grabbed her by the hand. She turned to look at him with a smile. He beckoned for her to bend down and she did. Jack even stood on his toes so he could whisper in her ear.

“Can you ask Daddy if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Evelyn barely heard him.

Still, she let out a laugh and straightened her back.

“I can do that.”

Jack grinned and ran back toward his friends. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him run away. She had met Jack only handful of times in the past, but he was such a light. He meant so much to Aaron that it was impossible for Evelyn not to love him, too. The poor boy had been through so much already.

“What did he want?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn turned back around to find that not only was Mary talking to Hotch, but three other unaccompanied women were hanging around as well. She resisted the urge to tease him about it right there. Teasing Hotch was also something new. She never would have done it before. Their relationship was strictly professional.

“Jack wants to go to McDonald’s on the way home,” Evelyn told Hotch.

“Ah,” Hotch said, his hands on his hips.

“The kids always do,” a blonde mother said, no ounce of amusement in her tone as she glanced at Evelyn.

“I suppose he thought you asking would make the likelihood of me saying yes higher?”

Evelyn shrugged. The other moms stood there, laughing joylessly, but Evelyn didn’t even see them.

They did stop at McDonald’s on the way home. Jack happily sang a song to himself in the backseat, munching on his apple slices and French fries. Evelyn was sitting in the passenger seat with one of her feet propped up on the dash.

“This feels like cheating,” Evelyn sighed, staring at the fries in her hands.

“How?” Hotch asked with a short laugh.

Evelyn shrugged, shoving the fries in her mouth.

“Something about it. They’re too good, I guess. There’s gotta be a downside.”

Hotch opened his mouth to say something but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to profile my eating habits, Hotchner,” she said.

Hotch simply laughed.

When they got back from the game, Jack went to take a nap, leaving Evelyn and Hotch alone in the apartment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited the team over to watch the game this afternoon,” Hotch said.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Evelyn said. “This is still your home.”

“Right.” Hotch nodded his head.

She dropped herself onto the couch, her eyes tired, but she had no desire to sleep, especially if the team was coming over.

But her eyes were beginning to droop against her better judgement. The apartment was quiet, she could barely hear Hotch moving around until there was the soft sound of music flitting through the room.

Hotch sat down at the table, trying to be far enough away from the sleeping woman on his couch to help her feel comfortable. Light music floated through the room as he sat, flipping through a book that he wasn’t really reading. It seemed like every three seconds, his eyes would move from his book to where Evelyn was sleeping. He justified it to himself, trying to tell himself it was just to make sure she wasn’t having another nightmare. Last night had been hard on all of them and he didn’t want a repeat. But there was something else that kept drawing his gaze to her.

She just looked so at peace. Like none of the thousands of terrible things in the world could touch her. Her breathing was short, but steady and there was almost a bit of a smile on her face. His hands were tense around the book, just waiting for her breathing to change to signal to him that she was going to a place in her mind where she didn’t want to be.

He was almost tempted to ask the others to not come to allow Evelyn the chance to sleep. But Hotch thought it was best to allow her the time to socialize with the people she loved. She needed to be surrounded by support at this time and Hotch knew he couldn’t possibly provide enough of it to be any help.

An hour and a half later, fifteen minutes before the others were due to arrive, Hotch walked over to where she slept on the couch. Again, he was tempted to just let her sleep. But he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shake in hopes of rousing her.

“Caro,” he whispered.

She woke with a startled gasp, her eyes snapping open. Hotch was prepared for some kind of emotional response. He was ready in case she needed his help, but after the initial shock of being woken up, she sat up normally. Rubbing her eyes, Evelyn let out a yawn.

“Are they here?” She asked.

“Not yet,” Hotch said. “Soon. I’m going to wake up Jack. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” There was a little bit of a scowl on her face as she continued to try and wake herself up. “Anything I can do to help get ready?”

Hotch was already halfway to Jack’s room, but he shook his head.

“Everyone else is bringing food. We’re off the hook for this one,” he told her before slipping into Jack’s room.

Evelyn forced herself off the couch, even though her bones were still stiff and tired. She straightened the cushions she slept on before rubbing her eyes again. She didn’t think she had dreamed, which was the first time she hadn’t in a very long time.

She was rubbing tension out of her neck when there was the first knock at the door.

Evelyn started and reached for the gun that should have been there but wasn’t. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hand still on her hip where her gun should have been. She wanted to move, but her muscles felt frozen. Eyes wide and body tense, Evelyn struggled to breathe. There was a tightness in her chest she couldn’t shake.

There was a knock at the door again, but she still couldn’t move.

“Caro, you okay?” Hotch asked as he came back from Jack’s room. “Evelyn?”

He stopped on his way to the door. She saw him standing there, staring at her, but all she could do was watch the door. Her body began to shake ever so slightly from the tension in her muscles.

“It’s just the team, Caro,” Hotch said, slowly putting his hands out toward her. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

Evelyn heard what he was saying, but something in her bones told her that it was a bad guy, someone who wanted to come in and hurt her, hurt Hotch, hurt Jack. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Caro, I need you to look at me and just breathe,” Hotch was saying, taking a step toward her. There was another knock at the door and she flinched. “Look at me. Breathe.”

Evelyn sucked in one deep breath in through her nose before flickering her watery eyes away from the door and toward Hotch. He titled his head to the side, taking on a non-offensive stance. Her eyes strained to look at him.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Evelyn gave a sharp shake of her head, her body jerking forward but her feet not going anywhere. “I’m going to open the door. It’s going to be okay.”

He took a step toward the door and Evelyn shook her head again. Hotch turned away from her and kept walking toward the door.

“Hotch,” Evelyn said, her words just barely above a whisper.

When his hand touched the handle, Evelyn shook her head again, staring at the door unblinking. The door unlocked and the handle turned.

“Hotch-“

The door opened. Evelyn’s eyes widened even further, waiting for Ralph to be standing there on the other side.

But it was just Penelope and JJ and Emily, all grinning wildly.

Evelyn blinked her eyes hard and shook her head, dropping her hands back to her sides and relaxing her defensive stance.

“Come in,” Hotch was saying.

Evelyn forced a smile onto her face and went to greet her friends as they came in. She helped them set up the table with the food and drinks they brought.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked as she tore into the chips.

Evelyn sighed, still trying to smile.

“I’m doing okay,” she said.

“I might not be as good a profiler as any of you guys,” JJ said. “But I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Evelyn turned to face her, leaning her hip against the table and crossing her arms.

“I am doing as well as you can imagine I’m doing,” Evelyn said. “But most of the time I’m doing okay.”

JJ put a hand on her friend’s arm and offered a small smile.

“If you ever need anything-“

“I know you’re always there for me, JJ,” Evelyn said. “I won’t ever forget it.”

JJ nodded and they turned back to the table. It was only a few more minutes before the boys arrived. After greeting Hotch and Emily, Morgan came straight for Evelyn, who was still at the table rearranging everything for the fifteenth time.

“I swear I’m going to lose it if you ask me if I’m okay, Derek Morgan,” Evelyn said, moving the napkins off the plates where she had just put them.

Morgan let out his signature laugh before throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“I know how you’re doing, so I don’t need to ask,” Morgan told her. “I just came over here to give you a hug.”

Evelyn let out a breath and turned toward him, eagerly putting her arms around his waist. There was safety in his arms. Her muscles were still tense from her moment before, and it felt impossible for her to relax and fall into normalcy with her friends. But with Morgan there, everything seemed to be at least a little bit okay.

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s how you win.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She pulled away and quickly swiped away a stray tear before wiping her hands on her jeans. She back at Morgan briefly with a strained smile, glad to see him smiling back.

“Let’s go sit,” Morgan said to her.

Evelyn sat herself on the very end of the couch, knowing how much her team loved to cram in together and not really feeling comfortable being stuck in between Morgan and JJ as they shouted back and forth at each other about their opposing sports opinions. She sat with her feet up on the couch and her knees pulled up to her chest.

Reid sat next to her, still and quiet.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Reid.”

He didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t really want him to. Still, she leaned toward him and put her head on his shoulder. Reid tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered to her.

“It’s good to be back,” she whispered back.

A few minutes before the game had started, there was already yelling going on between Rossi and JJ about something Evelyn couldn’t really follow. Jack came out of his room, hair a mess and eyes looking tired.

“Hey, buddy!” Hotch said. “Come for some food?”

The newly awake Jack shook his head and hobbled over to Evelyn. She dropped her feet to the ground as he struggled to crawl into her lap. He dropped his head to her shoulder.

“You okay, kid?” she asked him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. He nodded and yawned.

A chip flew over her head that Morgan had definitely thrown at Rossi who sat in the chair next to Evelyn. Penelope was watching the commercials eagerly, shouting at everyone to quiet down. JJ had roped Emily into her argument with Rossi and Reid was telling Morgan something about some sports statistic that Morgan was desperately trying to refute.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, who was watching them with a look in his eye that she couldn’t really read. She was usually good at reading Hotch, but every now and again, he’d get this look that she didn’t understand. When he noticed her looking, he gave her a smile and nodded his head.

Part way through the game, Jack left her lap to go and grab some food. She offered him her seat when he came back so that she could go over to the table for some food and a breather. Hotch met her there, scooping cheese dip onto his paper plate.

“Intense game,” Evelyn said, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Very.”

“Oh, come on!” Morgan yelled.

Evelyn laughed quietly to herself.

“If you need to step out-“

“I’m fine, Hotch, really,” she said, turning toward him. “Everything’s good. What happened earlier-“

“Was a completely normal reaction.” Evelyn was startled by his rebuttal interruption. “You’re allowed to have bad moments or even bad days.”

“I know that.”

“You’re also allowed to have fun.”

“I know that, too.”

Morgan stood up quickly from the couch, letting out half a expletive before remembering Jack was there and switching it up half way through.

“I really missed this, though,” Evelyn said through a laugh.

Hotch looked at her and then looked over at Morgan and let out a sigh.

“He was really worried about you,” Hotch told her, his hands tightening around the poor paper plate in his hand.

Evelyn nodded her head, looking down at the grapes in her hand.

“I thought I’d never see him again. I thought I’d never see any of you again,” she told him.

“You didn’t think we’d find you?”

“Oh, I knew you would,” she looked back over at him. “I just didn’t know if it would be soon enough.”

“Evelyn-“

“Evie, come look at this!” Penelope called, waving her over.

“Pardon me, Hotch.”

Hotch watched her walk away and kneel on the ground beside Garcia. They laughed about something. Smiling looked good on her, but he knew that it only ran so deep. He couldn’t wait for the day that smile would be real again. He just hoped he was there to see it.

By the time everyone left, the sun was almost down. They stayed long after the game, talking and laughing and throwing things at each other like a bunch of children. Penelope was the last to go, always asking for one last hug while Morgan waited for her just outside.

“I’ll see you soon, Pen,” Evelyn laughed, trying to push her friend toward the door.

“I hate leaving you,” Penelope said.

“I think I’m in the safest hands I can be.”

Penelope pulled away at that.

“You’re right.” She looked over at Hotch. “Hotch won’t let anything happen to you. You’re perfectly safe here.”

Evelyn gave her a smile.

“Exactly. Now, go. Morgan’s waiting for you.”

Penelope straightened her jacket and nodded her head.

“Right.” She turned and walked out the door. “Let’s go, Derek.”

Morgan offered one last wave, tossing an arm over Penelope’s shoulders. He sent a look Evelyn’s way that she read perfectly. If she needed anything….

Hotch shut the door and the apartment was silent. Evelyn let out a heavy breath.

“That was fun,” Jack said, laying on the couch.

“Time for bed for you, buddy,” Hotch said.

The team was generally good at cleaning up after themselves and taking the food that they had brought with them, but there was always a mess to clean up afterward. The few times Evelyn had one of these gatherings at her own place taught her this well enough. Hotch walked Jack toward his room while Evelyn turned to start cleaning.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hotch said, emerging from his son’s room as Evelyn pulled the full trash bag out of the trash can.

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing this place is a mess,” she told him.

It was these quiet moments when it was just the two of them that Evelyn felt the most exposed, the most terrified. Not that he would hurt her because she knew he never would, but just knowing that all of his attention was on her made her almost sick to her stomach.

“I’ll take the trash to the can outside,” Hotch said, walking toward her.

“Alright.”

She handed the bag off to him, his fingers just barely grazing over her hand. Evelyn elected not to look up at him as electricity crackled up her arm. She breathed in deeply and turned toward the couch.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He took a few steps away from her and Evelyn just nodded her head.

She didn’t look at him as he left the room. With a pounding heart, Evelyn sat slowly onto the couch, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply until she dropped her head into her hands.

What was wrong with her? She had always been able to keep her emotions under control around Hotch. Always. Even when he was talking about Hayley, even when he cared so deeply about people it made him rage, even when he did that thing with his eyes that silenced even the haughtiest narcissist, even when he gave her a look that put all other looks to shame. She had always kept her cool because that was what she had trained herself to do.

But now her training was backfiring on her. Her training was making her think danger was there when it wasn’t. Her training was making her question the movements of everyone she loved. Her training was taking her sleep from her. Her training was crumbling and slowly revealing that terrified girl that lay underneath.

Evelyn opened her eyes, hoping to think of absolutely anything else than the heat in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart in her stomach.

Maybe keeping her eyes closed may have been better because as soon as her eyes were open, they landed on Hotch’s bag propped up against the coffee table. Someone must have moved it during the game. Sticking out of the top was a file. There was no name on the file, but Evelyn knew it was hers, or at least from the last job they’d done, which was hers.

Instinct took over and she bent down, snatching the yellow folding from his bag. It was thick, thicker than she’d have liked. Laying it on the table, her suspicions were confirmed as she flipped open the first page. It was this last case and the very first picture on it was the one they took in the hospital when she first arrived.

Evelyn didn’t realize how terrible she looked until just then. She was thin, trembling. Her hair was matted with blood. She looked dirty, covered in blood and bruises. Evelyn gagged, covering her mouth with her hand. That was how all of her friends had seen her that day. The thought made her shiver.

The picture just underneath it was the one they had taken when she was a kid. The similarities in the pictures made her even sicker.

She shuffled through the files, eyes scanning the pages just like Reid had taught her, until she found Hotch’s report.

She pulled it out, hands shaking as she held it in front of her. She had always wondered how Hotch managed to write these reports, summing up everything they went through during the case in just a few short pages.

Her throat swelled as she read through the beginning. She read about the women Ralph killed, how they were assaulted and murdered, how the team discovered it was Ralph. She read through them deciding to send Evelyn into the meeting to find Ralph and lure him in. She didn’t know then that he was the step kid of her uncle. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone in there empty handed.

Then she read how they had found out she was missing and what they did to find her. Her heart plummeted into her stomach, dropping from her chest like a ton of rocks. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, hoping swallow the sob that was threatening to come from her mouth. Sitting in that attic, Evelyn had wondered what the point of killing those other women was. She had spent hours pouring over ideas. She thought him running into her was an accident, pure coincidence. This case already put her on edge, seeing as it took place in the very same town she grew up in.

But the team had solved it. They had figured it out. All those women that Ralph had killed….

Tears clouded her vision, but she refused to blink. A quiet moan of distress came from her. She didn’t even hear the door of the apartment open.

“Evelyn?”

She didn’t jump at the sound of Hotch’s voice. Instead, she turned toward him slowly, those same tears gathered in her eyes.

“It’s my fault,” she said, holding the report in her hands. The tears dropped from her lashes, hitting her cheeks with the strength of a butterfly.  

“It’s not.”

“It is!” Hotch let out a defeated breath. “It says right here that-“

“That report says Ralph Bennet made the decision to assault and murder those four women.”

“Because of me!”

Hotch walked over to her and sat on the couch beside her, but not too close.

“Did you kill those women, Caro?”

“No, but-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Hotch, he killed them because I knew them. He killed them because he knew it would lure me in. If I hadn’t-“

“What? If you hadn’t what?” She was quiet. “If you hadn’t killed your uncle? You did what you had to do to survive, Evelyn. No one will fault you for that.”

“If I hadn’t….” she trailed off, staring at the paper with her teary eyes.

“If you hadn’t come with us to solve this case? More women would have died.”

“I fell right into his trap,” she whispered, her hands tightening around the paper. “I didn’t even know he existed, and he knew me well enough to set the trap and just wait for me to walk right into it. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

“Do you want to know what that tells me?”

She looked up at him.

“You returned to a town where you had been traumatized to help bring justice to these women. You went into that meeting trying to catch a killer. You stayed alive long enough for us to find you using clues that you gave us.” Evelyn sniffed, wiping the underside of her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re not stupid, Evelyn. You’re the bravest person I have ever met.”

She looked over at Hotch again, her lower lip trembling.

“They died for me,” she said and took in a shaky breath. A tear slid down her nose. “How do I repay them for that?”

Hotch was quiet for a moment and heaved out a sigh, just allowing him time to think of a proper answer.

“You live,” he told her. “You survive this and carry on for them.”

Evelyn closed her eyes. She was hearing him and her brain was telling her that he was right, but her heart wasn’t believing him. She couldn’t believe him.

Without saying anything, Evelyn pushed herself off the couch and made for the door, hoping to escape before he could see the tears that were threatening to run from her eyes again.

“Caro, where are you going?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“I need some air,” she replied as she struggled with the lock on the door.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need to be alone right now,” she said, finally getting the door open.

Hotch put his hand on the door and pushed it shut. Evelyn froze, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

Evelyn turned around slowly. Hotch was looming over her, his hand still on the door to keep her from opening it again.

“Let me out, Hotch.”

“You’re not a prisoner here, but you’re not going out there alone.”

She stared at Hotch unblinkingly. Evelyn’s breathing started to speed up, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but it wasn’t anger or fear that made her heart rate spike.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

Evelyn knew she was poking the bear, but she felt like she had to. Poke the bear yourself, make it roar on your terms before it decides to do it itself.

“Why can’t I go out there alone? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, I know you can-“

“Then why won’t you let me leave?”

“Because I want you to be safe.”

The calmness of his voice made her even angrier. It made her want to poke harder.

There was a gaping wound in her soul and it was still gushing blood. Hotch was trying to patch it up, help her to heal, but he was getting too close to the only thing that kept her breathing. He was getting too close to the wound and she was terrified of the idea of him seeing her, feeling her, so she recoiled. She would snap at him until he left her alone. Until he left her wound bleed in peace.

“Why did you come for me?”

“Why did we come for you?” Hotch repeated, astounded by her question. “You’re part of the team. Why wouldn’t we come for you?”

“I’m not asking about the team, Aaron. I’m asking about you.”

Hotch straightened at the sound of his first name. She knew why. She’d done it on purpose. She needed to convince him she was angry. That was the only way to keep him at bay.

“I couldn’t just let you rot there; the team needs you.”

“The team?” She let out a bitter laugh before pushing past him and stalking into the middle of the room. “It’s always about the team with you, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I could have died in that house, Aaron, and all you can come up with is the team needed me and that’s why you came?”

She hated the taste her words left in her mouth. She hated saying them. But she had to. She had to push him away if she had any hope for surviving. She had tied her heart to his and if she didn’t severe it now….

There was real anger in his eyes at her words. Finally, an emotion. A chink in his armor.

“If you had died in that house, I would have killed that bastard myself!”

Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath. It was so rare to see an emotion on Aaron Hotchner. In the last few days alone, she had seen more from him than she had ever seen in all her years working with him; fear, joy, grief, anger, relief. And it was mostly because of her.

“Enough with the team needs me bullshit.” Evelyn dropped the tone of her voice. “I’m going for a walk.”

She turned her back on him and walked toward the front door. She made it all the way there, her hand on the doorknob before Hotch spoke again.

“I need you.”

Evelyn froze, her hand glued to the doorknob as if it was ice and her hand was burning hot. Her blood ran cold and her heart stopped in her chest.

“What?”

“You don’t accept that you’re a vital member of the team as a worthy reason for us to come and help you? Fine.” There it was again, anger in Hotch’s voice. His dark eyebrows were pulled together. “I need you.”

Evelyn had started this argument because she needed to keep his hands away from the wound she was nursing, the wound that every breath seemed to tear open a little bit more. His kindness and compassion were just insult to injury. But his sincerity in this moment punched through every wall around her wound that she had been attempting to build up in the last few minutes.

He said it like he would say any other truth. He said it like he would say anything during a case; without a hint of uncertainty.

She turned toward him. For the first time in a while, she felt no shame as tears glimmered in her eyes.

“You mean it?” She asked, pulling on the edges of her sleeve.

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“I mean when, Emily-“ Evelyn stopped herself and cleared her throat. “No. You haven’t.”

Hotch stood there, clearly not wanting to say anything else that would set her off. Evelyn bowed her head, let her hand fall away from the doorknob, and she crossed the room, putting her arms around his waist before he even realized that she was coming toward him.

Hotch was frozen for a second, her change in mood so rapid that he almost couldn’t register it. Evelyn’s eyes were screwed shut as she prayed that he wouldn’t reject her embrace, though she could understand if he did. But, eventually, he put his arms around her, pulling her in closer and she could finally relax.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting the tears stream down her face, fast and hot. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he told her, his words just as quiet.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m trying.”

Hotch knew from the report what happened with her parents after she had escaped from her uncle. He knew how they turned their back on her in the following months. She had come back to them after four years, after killing her father’s brother, and she wasn’t the little girl they had lost anymore. They reported anger issues, lashing out, screaming and hitting and breaking things. They told authorities they couldn’t handle her anymore. They just didn’t know what to do.

But Hotch also knew that she was a child who was cut so deeply by someone she trusted and that she deserved to be loved and protected by her family no matter what. No matter how loudly she screamed, no matter the mess she made, they should have loved her. They should have fought for her just as hard as she was fighting to survive. He wouldn’t abandon her like they did.

“I promise not to give up on you if you promise me not to give up on yourself,” he told her.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Promise,” she said.

___

The following months were hard. Moving back into her own apartment where it was quiet and the silence was deafening was the hardest part. When there was no one to wake her from her nightmares or hold her while she cried, when there was no Jack to make her laugh even when she wanted to cry, when there was just her and the mirror. She hated being back home. She wanted to back at the Hotchner’s, but she knew she couldn’t impose on them any longer.

There were days when her promise to Hotch was the only thing that kept her going. He had made her promise not to give up on herself and she would be damned before she disappointed Hotch again. So, she fought, tooth and nail, just to stay afloat. Some days, that looked like lying in bed and letting the tears fall. Some days, that looked like calling Morgan or Penelope and asking them to play a board game with her. Some days, that looked like running until she couldn’t breathe. Some days, that looked like dancing around her apartment at 3 am.

Slowly, she began to remember what it was like to feel alive. And she started to love it again.

The day she came back to work, the smile on her face reached deep into that wound in her soul. It wasn’t healed, but it was better. It didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

The team acted like she knew they would on her first case. Hotch didn’t let her go anywhere by herself. Someone had to be by her side at all times. It was suffocating, but she knew it was for the best.

By the time the case was finished and the guy arrested, Evelyn almost felt like herself again. This is what she was meant to be doing. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting by herself in her room all day, wasting away. The field was in her blood. It was part of her.

They all went out to dinner that night and everything was right in the world again. Evelyn used to sit in her apartment, Hotch and Morgan and Garcia sending her updates as they went. She knew when she got the triple text that the case was over that they’d be going out to eat, celebrating, having a laugh to cope with everything they had seen. And she would sit in her dark apartment.

But now she was in the right place. They went to a pub downtown. She ordered fries and a coke with a little cherry on top. Morgan made fun of her for smothering her fries in ketchup. She stole a bite of Emily’s pasta as she talked to Rossi. Life had returned to normal, and it was just what she needed.

The next few cases went the same way. Hotch began to trust her being alone again, allowing her to have the space she needed to do her job. There were cases where she needed to step into the bathroom and cry. There were times when she stayed behind with the local police because she couldn’t even think about going in without panicking. And the nights in her apartment alone were the worst.

But as long as she was on a case with her team, things were actually okay. She could push away her fear and the anxiety that made her bones rattle and her muscles freeze. She could go back to be Agent Evelyn Caro, where she was at her best.

Almost a year passed. Evelyn knew that the anniversary fear was a thing, but she was determined to be fine. The case they came in for was the farthest away from anything that could remind her of what she went through. Men were being taken and killed. The pattern was easy to solve, the profile quick to figure out. Everything was going to be okay.

Until Hotch and Evelyn were hunting the killer on their own. Evelyn was walking through a suspect’s house with her gun drawn, knowing that Hotch was upstairs doing the same thing. There was a thud coming from the second floor.

“Hotch?” Evelyn called out. “You okay?”

There was no reply. Her heart started to seize.

“Hotch?”

Walking toward the stairs, her gun drawn, Evelyn told herself to breathe. She would be no help to Hotch if she was panicking. She took one step up the stairs before a sudden and sharp pain exploded against the side of her head, sending her into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

When Evelyn woke up, she was in a basement. Her head squeezed and ached, jaw stiff. She shook her head and forced her eyes open.

Sitting across the room from her, still unconscious, was her boss.

“Hotch!”

Evelyn scrambled over to him, barely standing at all before she dropped to the ground next to him.

“Hotch, hey, you good?”

She saw him breathing, so that was something, but he was unresponsive to her voice. She shook his shoulders, but still he slept.

“Please don’t fire me,” Evelyn whispered before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the face.

Hotch gasped and his eyes flew open, his body falling over to the side.

“Oh, thank God,” Evelyn breathed.

“Did you slap me?” Hotch asked her, sitting back up.

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you slapped me?”

Evelyn shrugged as Hotch rubbed his jaw with his hand.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” he told her. Evelyn felt herself almost smile. “Where are we?”

Evelyn looked around the basement and let out a heavy breath.

“Not sure,” she said. “We got the profile wrong, didn’t we?”

Hotch nodded his head and used the support beam in the middle of the room to push himself upward.

“There was a woman. I thought she was hurt, but….”

“She got the drop on the mighty Aaron Hotchner? I’m impressed.” Evelyn teased, needed to joke about something before her brain exploded from the pain or the panic she felt growing in her bones took over completely.

Hotch looked down at Evelyn with a stern look that told her maybe joking wasn’t his favorite way to cope with being kidnapped. Evelyn pursed her lips and pushed herself onto her feet.

“Lions got me, I think,” Evelyn told him, using the support beam to keep her standing.

“So there are two of them and one of them is a woman.” Hotch breathed out a sigh. “How does that change the profile?”

“We know that the men were chosen because Lions wanted something they had.”

“Position, status, money-“

“A certain woman.”

Hotch turned to look at Evelyn, who was scanning the basement as if it would hold the answers. There were blood stains on the ground. This was definitely where the victims were killed. There was a door at the top of the stairs, but if these guys were any good at what they did, the door would be locked.

“You think his partner could have been the wife of one of the victims?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn looked back at him and shrugged.

“A wife, a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter. Maybe the person he wants to take her from isn’t even dead yet, but he’s the reason Lions is killing.”

“Why would she help him?”

Evelyn breathed out again.

“Maybe she feels trapped where she’s at and he’s got her convinced this is the only way to save her? If she feels completely dependent on him, she might just do whatever he says.”

“Even kill?”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders again, but they both knew that the answer was yes. A woman caught in a corner was just as capable of killing as anyone else.

“Well, that’s good then,” Hotch said, putting his hands on his hips.

“How is any of that good?”

“It means I’m the one they want, not you,” Hotch said.

Evelyn’s eyebrows pinched together.

“That really doesn’t sound good, Hotch.”

“You can get through to the partner, Caro,” Hotch said, walking back toward her. Evelyn narrowed her eyes even further at him.

“Maybe, yes.”

“Good. That will get us out of here.”

He turned away from her again. He pulled off his blazer and loosened his tie and the temperature in the room raised about fourteen degrees. Evelyn had to shake away her imagination before responding.

“And what are you going to do?”

“What they brought me here for.”

___

“Please, stop!”

The female unsub, Rosalie, held tight to Evelyn’s arms, holding her back as the male unsub, Jeremy Lions, pounded his fist into Hotch’s face.

“You think you’re so strong,” Hotch laughed, taunting Lions. “Don’t you?”

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“You have to stop him,” Evelyn said to Rosalie. “No one else can get through to him.”

“He’s doing what he has to to keep us safe,” Rosalie whispered to Evelyn, but despite the strength in her arms, her voice was weak. “Your friend just needs to give in. It’ll be easier that way.”

Lions hit Hotch again and Evelyn cried out, pulling against Rosalie.

“Shut her up, Rose!”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie whispered in Evelyn’s ear, holding her right from behind. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No!” Evelyn struggled against the woman holding her, jerking her shoulders in hopes of breaking free.

“You really think that any of this will earn you manhood, Lions?” Hotch said with a laugh, turning the unsub’s gaze back onto him and away from Evelyn.

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“Stop it, damnit!”

Lions whirled around and backhanded Evelyn in attempts to get her to quiet down. Rosalie gasped and let Evelyn fall to the ground.

“Jeremy! You said we wouldn’t hurt her!”

Lions let out a growl and grabbed onto Rosalie’s arm, dragging her out of the basement and leaving Hotch and Evelyn behind.

“You need to get through to Rosalie, Caro,” Hotch said as soon as she took a single step toward him.

“I am,” she huffed. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “She doesn’t want me to get hurt, that much is clear. If she associates you getting hurt with me getting hurt, she’ll push for Lions to hurt you less.”

Hotch nodded his head once, stretching out his jaw.

“You trust me, right?” Hotch said.

“Of course.” Evelyn’s response was immediate.

“Good.”

That night, they slept in the basement on opposite sides of the room, even though it was freezing cold. Saying they slept was an over exaggeration. Evelyn could barely even close her eyes. It was the cold that kept her eyes frozen open, but it was also the reality of it all. She was trapped, once again. She was a prisoner, once again. She was at the mercy of a man, once again.

And Hotch was here but she had never felt more alone.

The door creaked open and Evelyn sat up with a gasp. She shuffled backward, away from the door, but it was just Rosalie walking down the wooden stairs. The woman locked the door behind her, but still flinched.

“Hi,” Rosalie whispered as she neared. There was a cup and a plate in her hand. She watched the sleeping Hotch as she walked by, only turning her attention back to Evelyn once she passed him.

“Hi,” Evelyn whispered back, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I…I’m not going to hurt you,” Rosalie said. She lowered herself to the ground a few feet away from her. Rosalie set the cup and the plate down and scooted it closer to Evelyn.

Evelyn looked between the food and the woman.

“You need to eat.” Rosalie’s voice was soft. Kindly.

Evelyn straightened her back and lifted her chin, giving a slight shake of the head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Rosalie let out a sigh and turned to look over at Hotch, who still slept soundly.

“Saving it for him won’t do anything for either of you,” Rosalie said, almost sadly. “Only one of you is making it out of here. I think you know which one it’s going to be.”

___

“Here, eat.” Evelyn pushed the plate of cold potatoes and toast in his direction, the cup of water sitting on top. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “Rosalie came in last night. Brought us some food.”

“Did you eat?” He asked her, sitting up from his sleeping position.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Caro-“

“I ate, Hotch,” she said, a little more harshly than she meant to. “You need to keep your strength if we’re going to have a repeat of yesterday.”

Hotch almost laughed as he hooked his finger over the edge of the plate and slid it toward himself. Evelyn watched, her stomach gurgling as he took a bite out of the bread.

“Stale toast is just ravishing, isn’t it?” Evelyn asked as she leaned up against the wall he also sat against. Hotch hummed his response. He ate slowly, took a sip of water.

“How are you?” He asked.

Evelyn rolled her head against the wall to look over at him.

“Just peachy, Hotchner. How are you?”

“I’m serious. How are you doing?”

Evelyn let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

“Taking it one breath at a time,” she said. “I’ll deal with the aftermath once we’re out of here.”

Evelyn looked over at him again and attempted a half-cocked smile. Hotch wasn’t smiling. He was staring at her, staring right through her smile and her outer shell of calmness and straight into her soul where her wound was, her wound that was slowly starting to heal.

“I’ll be okay, Aaron,” she said, dropping her smile. “Promise.”

Hotch nodded his head and turned away from her.

“Don’t do anything stupid today, Caro,” he told her.

“Do I ever?”

___

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Hotch sighed as Evelyn let out a hiss of pain.

“I didn’t realize that trying to stop you from dying was considered something stupid.”

“It is when you get put in harm’s way.”

Evelyn held a strip of her shirt against her bleeding nose. Hotch rolled up his sleeves.

“We’ve got two days left here,” Hotch said, pacing back and forth in front of Evelyn.

“The team will find us,” Evelyn replied. She lowered the piece of her shirt and scrunched her nose before stretching it out again.

“I don’t doubt it.”

The sun went down sooner than Evelyn thought it would, meaning she had slept longer than she thought she had.

“You should sleep,” Hotch said.

“I’m not tired.”

“He won’t hurt you, Caro.”

The dark concealed Hotch’s face from her, even though he was only a few feet away. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably.

“I know.”

“If I don’t make it out of here-“

“Hotch, stop. We’re both going to walk out of here just fine.”

“But if I don’t, promise to take care of Jack.” Evelyn breathed in deeply, ready to shake her head and tell him again that they were going to both survive this. “Promise me.”

Instead of arguing, which she knew would get them nowhere, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I promise.”

Hotch didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t sleep. The change in his breathing after a while told her that he had fallen asleep.

She didn’t know how long it was before the door creaked open. Evelyn startled and sat up straighter, gasping in a breath. But it was just Rosalie, coming down with more food. This time, she didn’t say anything. She sat right next to Evelyn and set the food between them.

“You have to eat,” she said finally.

Evelyn reached out and took the cup of water and brought it to her parched lips. She drank some, but set it down before it was finished.

“You don’t have to save it for him.”

Evelyn turned her head to look at Rosalie.

“He’s my friend. I’m not going to let him starve.”

Rosalie was quiet for a moment.

“I think he’s more than that.”

“How did you meet Jeremy?” Evelyn asked. She thought she saw a smile on Rosalie’s lips.

“I lived with my brother and his wife as their live-in nanny of sorts. Jeremy worked for them as a gardener. My father kept me locked up my entire life and when he died, my brother took over. His sister’s keeper or something. But Jeremy he…. he made me feel free and alive and seen. And so, so loved.”

Rosalie stopped there, her smile lingering for a few moments before falling.

“But he changed, didn’t he?”

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, her lower lip curling and tears starting to run down her cheeks. Evelyn just let her cry for a few moments, until the woman collected herself. She sucked in a sob and stuffed her hands full of her dress.

“He took me from my brother’s house, brought me here,” Rosalie said. “Said he needed my help.”

“He used you to lure in men that he saw as superior to himself so that he could kill them.”

Rosalie nodded again, tears still rolling from her eyes.

“I never wanted to…I tried to tell him that I love him as he is…that he doesn’t need to-“

“Rosalie, listen to me. Nothing you could ever do will convince him of that because his issues have nothing to do with you,” Evelyn said, turning to face her.

“I don’t….”

“Jeremy Lions may love you, Rosalie, but he is very sick. He is not killing people to be a better man for you, no matter what he has told you. He feels inferior so he thinks he has to kill to be superior. That’s why he wanted Hotch.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

Evelyn heaved out a breath.

“Hotchner is everything Jeremy thinks he’s lacking. Confident, strong. He’s got a high-ranking job. He’s respected by his peers. He’s good looking and has a nice home and great friends. Jeremy doesn’t think he has any of this and he wants it, which is why he wants to hurt Hotchner.”

“To take something he doesn’t think he has.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath and reached forward to take Rosalie’s hands in hers.

“No matter what you do, Rosalie, you will never be enough for him, do you understand? He has you, he has love, but that will never be enough for him.”

“No, no!” Rosalie stood up quickly. “No. Once we’re married, everything will be okay. We’ll buy a new house. Live a happy life.”

“Rosalie-“

“No! You’re wrong.”

“Rosalie….”

“You’re wrong!”

Rosalie hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Evelyn shut her eyes again. With a growl, she pounded her knuckles into the hard concrete ground.

“You okay?”

Hotch was barely awake, his voice gravelly and tired.

“I’m okay, Hotch, go back to sleep.”

He grumbled something and was soon asleep again. Evelyn could do nothing but sigh. Still, she didn’t sleep.

The next day went no better than the last. It was night again before Evelyn knew it. She sat on the ground, head between her knees. Hotch stood, leaning up against the support beam in the middle of the room.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said. Evelyn didn’t move. “Talk to me.”

“I told you, I’ll deal with it after we get out of here,” she told him, her words muffled by her knees.

Hotch walked toward her and let out a groan as he lowered himself to the ground.

“You can sleep,” he told her, his words even quieter than they were before. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Evelyn lifted her head finally to look at him.

“That’s not why I’m not sleeping,” she said, which was partially a lie. She didn’t sleep because she needed to be aware at all times. She couldn’t risk nodding off and letting her guard down. But there was another part to it.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked her.

“I thought I was going to die alone in that house, Aaron.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Twice. I stay awake because I can’t stand the thought of dying alone. And if you die while I’m sleeping-“

Hotch reached out and took her hand in his. When she looked over at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at her. She let out a shaky sigh and let him lace his fingers through hers. It was all the comfort that she needed.

“You’re not going to die alone,” Hotch told her. “You’re not going to die here at all.”

Evelyn nodded and let a few of the tears in her eyes fall, grateful for the darkness to cover her face. She lowered her head slowly to his shoulder, damning all protocol to hell, if there even was protocol for maybe dying in a basement with your boss. When Hotch didn’t immediately pull away from her or shake her off his shoulder, she settled in and shut her eyes.

“You’re not dying here either,” she said. “Not if I can help it.”

For the first time in days, Evelyn slept.

She awoke to someone grabbing hold of her hand. Her first thought was that it was Hotch squeezing her in his sleep. But when she gasped and opened her eyes, she found that it was just Rosalie sitting in front of her. It was still dark outside. She thought that the woman had brought her more food, but she turned out to be wrong.

“We have to go,” Rosalie whispered. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie put a shaking finger to her lips and pulled on Evelyn’s hand. “You were right. We have to go now.”

Rosalie pulled Evelyn to her feet, dragging her toward the door before she was even fully awake.

“Wait, stop,” Evelyn whispered, trying to shake herself awake.

“No, now! This is the only chance you have.”

Rosalie dragged Evelyn out of the basement doors and up the stairs into the house above. It wasn’t the same house that Hotch and Evelyn had been searching before, she could tell that even in the dark.

“Where are you taking me, Rosalie?”

“You have to get out of here, now! Jeremy doesn’t want to kill you, but he will,” Rosalie said, pulling her through the rundown and dirty home.

“Stop. Stop!” Evelyn dug her heels into the ground and forced Rosalie to stop. “I’m not leaving Aaron.”

“You don’t have time!” There was nothing but pure desperation in Rosalie’s voice. “Jeremy knows I left. He’s coming here. You have to go now or you’re not going at all.”

Evelyn wrenched her arm out of Rosalie’s grip.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Jeremy will kill you.” Rosalie sounded desperate, terrified.

Evelyn shook her head and took a step backward.

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving him.” Rosalie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Go. Call the police. Tell them where we are.”

Rosalie nodded her head.

“Go.”

Without another word, Rosalie turned around and ran from the house.

Evelyn watched her go. Her heart rate spiked when headlights flashed through the front window. All she could do for Rosalie was hope that she found some place to hide until Lions entered the house. If Lions was here, this was it. He was coming for Hotch.

Evelyn ran back to the basement as quietly as she could. She shut the basement door, hearing it lock with a heart wrenching click, just as the front door opened. She hurried down the stairs and dropped to the ground next to Hotch, startling him awake.

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked, still sounding stuck in sleep.

“Lions is here,” Evelyn whispered to him. “Rosalie is gone, she’s calling the police.”

“How-“

“We need a plan and quick,” Evelyn told him.

“We don’t know how long it will take for the police to respond,” Hotch replied quietly, his voice surprisingly calm. This might be his last few moments on earth, and he wasn’t terrified or angry or anxious. He was just calm. “All of his attention will be on me. You can escape then.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“This isn’t a time for heroics.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Before Hotch could argue, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“Like you said, Lions’ attention will all be on you. He won’t be expecting me.”

“Caro-“

She sunk into the shadows just as the door of the basement opened. Lions trudged down the stairs, grumbling to himself.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward Hotch.

“Where’s the girl?” Lions asked, his voice low and gruff.

Hotch was silent.

“Doesn’t matter,” the unsub grumbled to himself. With his back to her completely, Lions started for Hotch. Evelyn would make sure he never reached him.

She crept out from her shadows, walking toward Lions. The ever present ache in her head from when Lions knocked her out didn’t even stop her. She was silent as she moved until she was right up behind him. In one quick motion, Evelyn kicked the back of his knee, dropping him to the ground before wrapping her arm around his neck.

Lions struggled against Evelyn. He was strong and she was weak from days with little food and water as well as the head injury. But she held on as tight to his neck as she could.

Hotch ran to check the basement door, but Lions had closed it, leaving it locked.

As he did so, Evelyn was so focused on keeping her grip on Lions, that she didn’t see his hand moving toward his pocket. He pulled out a knife and rammed it into her shin. She cried out, falling back and away from Lions.

“Evelyn!”

Hotch turned away from the door and ran back toward her as Lions stumbled away. Evelyn fell back against the support beam, lowering herself to the ground as she pressed her hands against the cut on her leg.

Hotch ran toward Evelyn, but Lions intercepted him. Fire spread throughout Evelyn’s leg, dark blood seeping through her fingers. She clenched her jaw in hopes of easing the pain. Hotch and Lions tumbled, a blur of bodies that Evelyn once again couldn’t distinguish. This scene was all too familiar to her.

Hotch was trained, but he was weak. Lions relied mostly on his size and strength, but lacked any formal training. Evelyn needed to get back into the fight, that was the only way Hotch would win this.

With a groan of effort and a sharp stabbing pain shooting through her leg, Evelyn forced herself to stand. Using the support beam as her support as well, she allowed herself a few moments to breathe through the pain before lurching forward.

Lions had Hotch pinned against the wall, his arm across his chest to keep him there. Evelyn hurtled toward Lions, pushing through the pain in her leg and barreled into him. This knocked him off balance. Being unable to stop herself once she started, she and Lions tumbled over each other until they were both on the ground. Hotch started forward to help Evelyn to her feet, but Lions had an arm around her waist and the knife pressed to her neck before either of them could really react.

“Back off,” Lions said, his voice even more gruff than before. Blood dribbled down from a broken nose and he wheezed, telling Evelyn that Hotch had hit him enough times near the diaphragm to knock the wind out of him.

The cool of the metal knife pressed against Evelyn’s throat didn’t scare her. Especially when she met Hotch’s gaze. That dead calm he always put forward she now felt flow through her veins. Everything was going to be okay, she could see it in his eyes. Evelyn breathed as shallowly as she could, trying to keep her throat from extending too far into the knife.

Lions pushed himself off the ground and brought Evelyn up with him. The knife cut into the first few layers of her throat and Evelyn flinched, feel the cool of her own blood dribble down her neck. Hotch put his hands in the air, trying to show that he meant Lions no harm.

“She’s not a part of this,” Hotch said. “You know that, Lions.”

“She’s a bitch is what she is,” Lions snapped, pressing the knife harder against Evelyn’s neck.

Hotch flinched forward and Evelyn shut her eyes.

“You want me, Lions, not her.” This was the calmness that Evelyn had never understood before. Her negotiation skills had never been good. Hotch said that she was too emotional. She cared too much and it was too easy to read in her voice. But Hotch was too good at pretending not to care at all. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”

“No, Hotch-“

“Shut up,” Lions seethed in her ear. “You don’t get to talk.”

“Is that how you treat Rosalie, huh?” Evelyn asked, her hands on his arm that held the knife to her throat. “You call her a bitch and tell her shut up?”

“Be quiet!”

Evelyn could feel blood soak into her shirt, weighing it down.

“Lions, look at me,” Hotch said, pulling his attention away from Evelyn. “You can let her go.”

Evelyn felt her wounded leg start to grow numb and her balance shifted. In not too long, she wasn’t sure that she would be able to keep herself standing upright.

The door behind them burst open and Evelyn let out a gasp. Lions flinched and loosened his grip on her just enough that she broke free from him and stumbled forward, right into Hotch.

“Jeremy Lions, drop the knife and put your hands in the air!” Emily Prentiss said, her voice deep and commanding.

Evelyn’s leg gave out, every ounce of weight put on it causing a shooting pain up and down her entire body. Hotch held her up by her arms, her back pressed against his chest. He was the only thing keeping her standing and she could barely even do that.

Lions didn’t turn around, but he put his hands up in the air.

“Rosalie did this,” he said, his voice deadly low.

“Drop the knife, Lions,” Emily said again.

“You turned her against me.” Lions shifted his angered eyes away from Hotch and onto Evelyn. “You did.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, Lions, but I will.”

“You turned her against me!”

Lions took half a step toward them, the knife now facing her. Hotch turned Evelyn away, preparing to step between them, but Emily fired a single shot, the bullet tearing right through Lions’ shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry of pain, the knife falling out of his grip.

Evelyn, still unable to stand on her own, turned to Hotch, her neck still bleeding.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, noting the bruises on his face.

“Are you guys alright?” Emily asked, her gun trained on Lions.

“We need a medic,” Hotch said. Emily nodded her head, her eyes flickering down the cut in Evelyn’s shin and neck.

Emily relayed the information through her earpiece, as well as saying the offender was down. Evelyn stayed leaned up against Hotch, his hands clinging to her arms to keep her steady, as Emily took Lions away in handcuffs.

Morgan and Reid came running into the basement along with the paramedics.

“Evie,” Morgan stepped toward her and she just smiled.

“We’re okay,” she told him.

“Ma’am,” the paramedic said. “Let’s get you to the ambulance.”

The paramedics stepped forward, one taking hold of Evelyn. The other moved toward Hotch.

“How are you feeling?” the paramedic asked him.

“Can you make it to the ambulance?” the paramedic asked Evelyn, who nodded her head.

“I can carry you,” Morgan said, stepping forward. Evelyn let out a quiet laugh.

“I can manage on my own, Derek,” she told him. Still, he followed her and the paramedic, his hands out just in case she started to fumble.

They helped her up the stairs and she looked back at Hotch, to find that his eyes were still on her. He nodded her head and she smiled at him.

The pain that flared throughout Evelyn’s leg was white hot, but with the paramedic taking most of her weight and Morgan just behind her, Evelyn was able to make it to through the house and to the ambulance without letting a single tear fall from her eye.

Hotch came out of the house a few minutes later, the paramedic still trying to get him to sit for a moment while Reid filled him in on everything they missed in the case.

“I’d like to speak with Rosalie,” Hotch said.

“She’s over here,” Reid said.

Hotch tried not to look over at the ambulance where he knew Evelyn was. He still had a job to do and he couldn’t focus on that if all he could think about was whether or not she was okay. He knew she was okay. She was always okay.

Rosalie sat in the back of one of the cop cars, her eyes closed and silent tears running down her cheeks. Hotch popped open the door, but she didn’t look at him.

“Is he alive?” she asked.

“He’ll survive,” Hotch told her. Rosalie let out a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes. “Why did you help us?”

“I didn’t help you,” she said, looking away from him and toward the ambulance. “I helped Evelyn.”

Hotch scowled.

“She loves you, you know?”

Her words startled him and Hotch felt ice run through his blood.

“What?”

“She loves you. I gave her food at night but she’d only eat part of it, saved the rest for you. And last night I came to take her somewhere safe before Jeremy came back to kill you, but she refused to leave. I almost had her out of that house, but she ran back in. For you.”

Hotch looked down at his feet. He didn’t really expect anything less of Evelyn Caro. She always put everyone’s lives above her own. He shouldn’t expect her to act any different toward him.

But anger still bubbled up inside of him. She could have gotten herself killed and for what? She should have left him there and ran to get help. She should have….

“You better be damn sure you’re worth it.” Rosalie’s words were venom and Hotch could feel their sting deep in his blood.

Hotch shut the door, leaving Rosalie to her silence and grief. He turned to look at the ambulance, just as Morgan was stepping into the back. The paramedic shut the door, closing Hotch off from Evelyn. The siren started to blare, and the ambulance rolled out of the driveway.

“They’re taking her to the hospital,” Prentiss said, walking over to him. Hotch nodded his head. “Lost too much blood to just let her come back with us.”

“She kept antagonizing him,” Hotch said as he placed his hands on his hips. “If she had just let me go with him-“

“Caro was protecting you, sir,” Prentiss said. He looked at her, scowl deepening. “She knew that as soon as Lions had you, he would kill you. She had to make sure that didn’t happen.”

Hotch watched the ambulance as it drove away, the sirens ringing.

He never got the chance to ask if she was okay.

___

Evelyn lay back in her bed at the hotel, staring at the ceiling. A bandage wrapped around her leg and it itched, making it impossible for her to sleep. There was something else keeping her awake. Her mind reeled, the last few days playing over and over in her head. Trapped in a room with Hotch for days on end was the perfect time to talk to him about all the things that were bothering her, but even then, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t even know where to begin because she didn’t even know what she was feeling anyway.

Sitting up with a huff, Evelyn glowered into the darkness. She threw off her blankets that were making her too hot, lowering herself onto the ground and landing on her good leg. She hobbled over to her discarded clothes and threw them back on.

Air was what she needed. A breath of fresh air. And then she’d be okay. She could go back to pretending that everything was fine and normal, like she always did.

As she pulled a coat onto her shoulders, she opened the door and froze.

Hotch was standing there, wearing a broken down version of his usual suit. His tie and jacket were discarded, his shirt buttoned up sloppily. She wondered if he had ever even gone to bed. And he was standing in front of her door, his hand not even raised to knock. He was just standing there.

He looked at her with wide eyes, shocked to find her there.

“Um, hi,” Evelyn said, dropping her hand from the doorknob.

“I just wanted to check to see how you were doing,” Hotch said.

“Hotch, it’s like three in the morning.”

He looked down at his hands. He was actually fidgeting. Something had made him motivated enough to come here, but nervous enough not to knock.

“I know. I can go-“

“No, wait.” He froze. “I never got to ask if you were okay.”

Hotch nodded his head.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

They stood there in silence. Evelyn felt her throat tighten every time she wanted to say something. Hotch wouldn’t look at her. The silence seemed to drag on for eternity before Hotch finally broke it.

“I talked to Rosalie, after everything, and she said something,” Hotch said. Evelyn finally put her eyes on him.

“What…what did she say?”

There were a thousand terrible things that Evelyn could think of that the woman could have possibly said to land her standing in front of her boss at three in the morning.

“She said that you had a chance to leave that house and you came back,” he told her. Evelyn straightened her back. This was going to be a lecture, she could just feel it coming. She just didn’t know why it couldn’t wait until morning. “Why?”

Evelyn scowled and looked at the ground, her hand still on the door.

“Why?” She repeated. “Because I couldn’t leave you there.”

“You should have.”

Evelyn felt her temper begin to rise. What was it with this man?

“A ‘thank you for saving my life’ would suffice,” she said, her tone harsh. “If I hadn’t come back, Lions would have killed you. From where I’m standing, I made the right decision.”

“And got yourself hurt in the process.”

“I’ll survive.” Hotch fell quiet again. “Listen, Aaron, if you’ve come to pick a fight, I think it can wait until morning.”

Evelyn took a step back and started to close the door, but Hotch lifted his hand and stopped it from closing. She looked over at him, jaw tightened, and found him staring back at her.

“I’m not here to pick a fight with you,” he said.

“Then why did you come?”

She could see the question rattling around in his brain, as if he had been asking himself that very same question ever since he left his room.

“I’m sick of this, Aaron,” she said finally, when he didn’t answer. “I’m sick of neither of us being able to say what we really mean. I’m sick of running in circles around each other. Just tell me why you came here.”

“I came to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mission accomplished then. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She started to close the door again and this time he didn’t stop her.

“Rosalie also said you loved me.”

Evelyn froze, the door almost shut so she couldn’t see his face anymore. Which was good because it meant that he also couldn’t see hers and the fear that was etched into every feature. Her breathing became heavy, like every breath took so much more work. She closed her eyes, and slowly started to open the door again.

“Rosalie said that?” Hotch nodded his head once. “Did you believe her?”

He was quiet for a moment, letting out a long but quiet sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a profiler. Tell me, what do you think?”

He took a while to answer.

“I think you’re a deeply compassionate person who cares for the team. I think you would give your life for any one of us in a heartbeat.” Evelyn looked down at her feet and Hotch tried to follow her eyes with his. “I know that you would never do anything to jeopardize the dynamics of this team because we’ve become your family.”

“Okay.”

“So, I don’t know how much of what you say and do is because the team is your family and how much is because-“

“-I love you.”

The words came from her mouth like any other fact would. She had known it for so long, never said it, not even to herself, but she knew it. And she managed to say it so casually. She was just completing his sentence after all.

Hotch stood still, as if trying to decide whether or not she was finishing what he was saying or confessing. He searched her eyes, but she stayed motionless. It was time he figured things out for himself, she decided. They’d both spent so long trying to figure the other out, it was high time someone just made the first move.

“When you were at Ralph Bennet’s house,” he said finally, “I had these horrible dreams about finding you there already dead. I was too late to save you.”

Evelyn could have sworn there were tears glimmering in his eyes.

“You did though, Aaron. You did save me.”

“But was I too late?” He asked. “Did I wait too long for…everything else?”

“What do you want, Aaron?” Her voice was just at a whisper, her hand still on the door.

It was the last time she would ask. This was the last time and then she’d let it go, let him go. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life, however short that might be, pining after one man.

Hotch surprised her then. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t try to talk. Talking was clearly getting him nowhere. Everything he said somehow came out wrong. Instead, he took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. Putting a hand to her cheek, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

His answer was clear. It took her a few moments to over come her shock, but when she did, she reached out to grab hold of his shirt collar, pulling him in closer.

She pulled him into her room and shut the door, leaving the hallway empty and quiet.

Her room was still dark as he moved her backward, his hands never leaving her. He thought he had lost her. But here she was, with him, and that’s all he needed.

“You,” he whispered against her skin. “Just you.”

Every raging fire that made up Evelyn Caro met the calm seas that built Aaron Hotchner, burning and boiling and soothing in every possible way.

He kissed her lips, her bruised cheek bone, her jaw. His hands rested against the side of her neck, gently though, so as not to irritate her wound. She tugged at his wrinkled shirt, trying to pull him closer.

Hotch knew this was breaking protocol. But he left behind every rule in the book when he left his room two hours ago. Every inch of contact with her made his stomach twist, every time her teeth grazed his lip made his heart pound. For so long he had wanted her and for so long he had pretended otherwise. He was so, so tired of pretending.

He was pulling off her shirt and she didn’t stop him and he didn’t stop himself, but he couldn’t. He just needed all of her.

Evelyn gasped, her intake of breath so sharp that Hotch pulled away. She breathed raggedly, her chest rising and falling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes moving to her neck.

Consumed by her, he had forgotten the shape she was in. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

“I’m not that fragile,” she told him. There was a smug look on her face, her lips twitched up into a smile.

Hotch leaned forward to kiss that smile, soft and gentle. His hands dropped to her waist and he kissed her again. He intended to pull away, leave her be for the night, but every time he tried, he came back to her like a magnet.

Evelyn had just as hard as a time keeping away from him. His calloused hands were grazing over her sides, her waist, her stomach, her back. Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Her heart pounded like a drum beat in her chest, so hard that she could hear it in her ears and it made her hands shake.

She expected him to stop her, to realize what he was doing and take her hands a politely decline, but when the last button came undone, he pulled away from just long enough to take the shirt off himself.

Hotch put his lips back on hers as soon as he could. Evelyn smiled against his kiss.

As if she had burned him, he suddenly stepped away, leaving Evelyn leaning against the wall, heaving for breath. He stared at her, his own breath ragged, his dark eyes smoldering.

“Is something…did I…?”

Shame pooled in Evelyn’s cheeks, making them burn. There she was, completely and utterly exposed, barely able to stand well enough on her own to scurry away.

“You’ve had a very hard year, Evelyn,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at the ground, locking her jaw.

“Hotch….”

“And I can’t take advantage of-“

“Aaron!” She said with a laugh, forcing him to look at her. “I’m fine. This is fine, more than fine.”

“Is it what you want?” he asked.

She gave a small smile and heaved out a sigh.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said. “Have I ever done anything I haven’t wanted to?”

Lifting a hand, she curled her finger, beckoning for him. He stepped toward her until he was just a breath away.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” she said to him, just above a whisper.

Evelyn reached up and kissed him again. It took him a few moments to respond, but once he accepted what she said, he leaned into her.

He placed a hand on her chest, right over her heart.

And for once, in a very, very long time, that wound in her soul didn’t feel so gaping.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #hurt/comfort #tw: abuse #tw: violence #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #idk what else to tag this so that more people see it #because it took me three weeks to write #this is literally a quarter of a novel what am i doing with my life #anyway #i hope you guys enjoy

[silversatoru]

Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending! 

word count: 2.2k 

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have. 

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you. 

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern. 

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge. 

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed. 

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse. 

“That’s an order, cadet”. 

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety. 

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine.  Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself. 

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul. 

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions. 

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something? 

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again. 

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts. 

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face. 

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you. 

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”. 

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?” 

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head. 

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway. 

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?” 

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”. 

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore. 

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words. 

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up. 

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth. 

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again. 

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed. 

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”. 

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear. 

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least. 

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips. 

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”. 

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it. 

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long. 

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress. 

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

[rainguk]

perfect pitch | ksj

⁕ summary; your stand partner this year is, to put it simply, insufferable. with a rare sense of perfect pitch and a stunning face to boot, this boy's ego is absolutely off the charts... but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anyway.

⁕ pairing; seokjin x reader

⁕ rating; pg-13

⁕ words; 3.9k

⁕ genre; crack, fluff - stand partners idiots to lovers (with a lil bit of enemies in there), high school au, orchestra au

⁕ warnings; swearing, threats but like nothing violent happens LOL, seokjin's sense of humor: there's like one mildly inappropriate joke (i'm sorry bach), super cliche rain scene i apologize

⁕ notes; this is based off of infuriatingly true events in my life because people with perfect pitch just LOVE flexing it like i'll drop my fork on the table and my friend's just like "oh wow that was a B flat" aaaaggghjsdjsdf anyways... i had a lot of fun writing this and i'm nearing the end of another longer fic i'm writing so please look forward to that :D hope you enjoy!!! + if you ever want me to tag you in my fics just let me know and i will <3 plus this is unedited and disgustingly cringy as it nears the end so read at your own risk

⁕ tags; @imdamconfused @sunghoonight-x @iminchaosnow

⁕ song; butter (bts)

masterlist

You’re teetering dangerously on the edge, a mere few seconds away from stabbing your stand partner in the eye with whatever you can use as a weapon.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokjin cuts into your murderous thoughts, alarmed. “You look… truth be told, Y/N, you look like you want to kill someone.”

“If you don’t shut up about how flat my A is, that someone might just end up being you.”

“How romantic.”

Your bow slides off your violin with a cadence of squeaky notes. “Can you at least stop flirting with me while I’m trying to tune this thing?!”

He smiles, a bright, brilliant thing that shows off all his perfect teeth. You swallow, heart suddenly racing a thousand times faster; it’s no secret that Kim Seokjin is probably the biggest pain in the neck you’ve ever met, but it’s also true that he is insanely good-looking. And you’re not about to deny it.

“You like it, though.”

Well, shit.

“Not everyone’s head over heels in love with you,” you retort, trying desperately to throw him off your trail. You know what happens with popular kids like him; once it’s known that you have a soft spot for them, everyone pounces on you, bombarding you with questions and snide remarks and rumors.

Of course, it’s complicated — because how on earth could you want to rip off someone’s head and kiss them at the same time?

But you tell yourself that it’s only because he looks like that; not because he easily gets you to laugh like it’s nobody’s business, and certainly not because he looks out for you in the littlest ways; leaving his rosin out on the stand for you to use and lending you a pencil when you need one.

Kim Seokjin is an insufferable little shit, yes. But he’s a friendly insufferable little shit. And you would honestly be so down to hang out with him and get to know him better, save for one little thing that’s been getting in your way.

His perfect fucking pitch.

Being stand partners with someone naturally gifted with such a sense is both a blessing and a curse. Countless times, Seokjin has saved your ass from being questioned by Mrs. Choi by letting you know silently that you’re a little too sharp, or playing in the wrong key entirely. (That last one has happened before.) Sometimes you can’t hear Namjoon, the principal violinist, too well from where you’re seated, so you’ve relied on Seokjin on many occasions to tune your strings correctly.

However, it irks you equally as much when he uses it against you, stopping you mid-piece to let you know that your C# sounds more like a D to him. No one’s perfect, and certainly not you — but you try, and to be shot down every single time by someone who thinks it’s absolutely funny to watch you repeatedly attempt to fix your pitch issues is purely exhausting.

“Hey, Y/N—”

“What?” you demand, sighing as you turn to him.

“Wanna hear a joke?”

“No—”

“Why did Bach have twenty children?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god—”

He continues anyway, ignoring your plea with that mischievous grin, “Because he had no organ stops!”

Seokjin is trying his best not to laugh at his own joke, shoulders shaking at the punch line. You can’t help it yourself, a giggle bursting out of your own chest as you cover your mouth.

“That was horrendous,” you tell him once you catch your breath again. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Oh, worry not,” he proclaims, smiling widely, “I can do far better.”

“Wait, no—”

“What tone does a piano falling down a mineshaft make?”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “I don’t know,” you shake your head after a few seconds. “What is it?”

“A flat minor.”

Your jaw drops open as you process it, and Seokjin just watches you in amusement. “You should be banned from making these kinds of jokes,” you tell him. “Seriously.”

“Admit it, I’m hilarious,” he counters. “I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

He did, you’ve got to acknowledge. He always does, in some way, now that you think about it. Whenever you end up coming to rehearsal in a bad mood, it’s always because of Seokjin that you leave the auditorium with a smile on your face.

The realization startles you like nothing else — you hadn’t known before that he played such a role in your daily life.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he starts again, “We have a concert tonight.”

“Yeah…” You turn to him, eyebrow raised. “You forgot about the biggest performance of the year?”

Seokjin nods, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. My bad. You’re coming, right?”

“Duh,” you reply, fishing a block of rosin out of your case. “It’s almost half of my grade; no way I can skip. Besides, I like performing.”

“You do?”

“What are you so surprised for?” you ask him playfully. “I do enjoy it. I might not be good — not as good as you — but I like it. I like playing together with everyone, being able to hear every other part fit in with mine perfectly.” You frown. “Now if you asked me to play solo, I wouldn’t do it for anything in the world. Ensemble performances are far better.”

“You’re good,” Seokjin says quietly, looking at you — it’s like he’s taking you in, letting his eyes linger on you for a little while longer. “Don’t think that you’re not. You sound nice, Y/N.”

You hold his gaze for several breathless seconds before scoffing, turning away. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!”

“I don’t need empty compliments fr—”

Your bickering is cut short by Mrs. Choi walking onstage, a stack of sheet music in her hand which is promptly handed to Namjoon for him to distribute to the entire orchestra. You don’t offer your usual smile when he gives you two, and it’s with an impassive expression that you hand the extra to your stand partner.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Maybe you’ve made it more awkward between you two — but what else could have happened? Had you been hoping he’d magically fall in love with you and kiss you and you would have gone on dates?

No, of course not. This is Kim Seokjin you’re talking about; and besides, no matter how much you manage to soften up to him one moment, he’ll immediately make you want to murder him the next.

“Hey, Y/N… um — your D is just, you know, a little bit sharp—”

“Kim Seokjin, I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You, my dear, are just overcomplicating this for yourself,” Taehyung declares after listening to you rant about your problematic stand partner over lunch. “What’s the issue? You like him — don’t you shake your head at me, Y/N, you’re as obvious as an open book — and he clearly likes you. Why don’t you just date him?”

“It’s not that simple,” you grumble, brutally stabbing another piece of chicken. “I can’t just walk up to him and ask him out, Tae. Plus, he doesn’t like me, he just likes flirting with everyone he lays his eyes on.”

“From what you’re telling me, it sure does sound like it.”

“Taehyung…”

“Come on, you can’t possibly be that clueless, Y/N.”

“No,” you insist. “He’s a pain in the ass, and he enjoys getting a rise out of me, and he flexes that dumb pitch power of his whenever he can.”

“But you like him...”

“You’re not helping!”

This is where Jimin decides to intervene, tired of your back and forth arguing. “She has a point, Tae. But,” he says to you. “He’s also right. You need to take some kind of action.”

“Yeah, but what?”

Taehyung claps his hands, a telltale sign of a new idea. “Flirt back!”

“Okay, absolutely not—”

Jimin grabs you suddenly, shaking your shoulders. “Wait, think about it!” he exclaims, eyes wide. “It can work! That way you can see if he actually does like you, and you won’t publicly embarrass yourself by confessing to him, either!”

“On second thought, I’d have preferred to see the public embarrassment—”

“Shut up, Tae, you’re just making her feel worse!”

That makes you laugh; contrary to Jimin’s statement, your best friends certainly have succeeded in making you feel just a little bit better.

“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” you tease. “Maybe I owe him a dose, actually, because I’ve seen firsthand a particularly painful confession back in n—”

“Y/N! Don’t you dare bring that up!”

Amidst the chaos of Taehyung screeching while trying to attack you with a spoon and Jimin holding him back, someone taps on your shoulder lightly; a momentary distraction from this madness, if you will.

“Oh. You,” you respond when greeted with the gently smiling face of Kim Seokjin. “Did you need anything?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, instead showing you his closed fist. “Wanted to give you something.”

“If it’s another one of my strings that you’ve borrowed and also broken, then you can keep it, thanks.”

Seokjin shakes his head, chuckling. “Not that, Y/N. I always throw out the strings I break; don’t worry. I just thought you should have this.”

With that, he places a small wooden box on your lunch bag — at a closer look, you realize it’s a block of rosin. Brand new, too, by the looks of it — when you take off the bright blue lid, there are no scratches on the surface, no sign of wear and tear.

“For me?” You look at him, surprised to be met with a rather fond gaze you’re not used to. “Why?”

“Noticed the one you had was basically falling apart,” he says nonchalantly, attempting to mask the slight tremble in his voice and the blush on his cheeks. “I mean, come on — how are you gonna keep your bow in good shape with those tiny chunks of this stuff?”

“Oh,” is all you can reply, staring at the gleaming black cube in your hand. “I — thanks, I guess.”

“No problem.” He’s back to his bright, grinning self again, all self-confidence and smug smiles. “See you tomorrow,” he tells you, before waving to your friends. “Have a nice lunch, guys.”

It takes Jimin and Taehyung precisely fourteen seconds after Seokjin leaves for his own table to lose their shit.

“Was he looking out for you?”

“Did he actually just give you a new block of rosin?!”

“And you still don’t wanna date this guy?”

“You guys are violinists! Gifting each other supplies is basically your love language!”

You fidget with the rosin, smoothing your thumb over the lid. “No, that’s just how he is,” you defend. “He always lends me rosin when I need it.”

“And you always lend him extra strings,” Taehyung says, a teasing smile on his face. They’re kind of right, you realize when you think about it. Never has Seokjin actually given you a block to keep, and though you might be overestimating the significance of the gesture, it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

“Okay, anyways,” Jimin changes the topic, “How are we feeling about tonight’s concert?”

“I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “We’ve got everything under control — Mrs. Choi was afraid the cellos would screw up their solo section, but they managed to pull it together today and they sounded great.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Taehyung sighs. “Not when the tenors keep screwing up their long note—”

“That wasn’t me! That was Jeon Jungkook!”

“Yeah, sure—”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Come on, we are not arguing about this right now. I’m sure you guys will sound fine, you always do. Plus, Jeon has a really sweet voice.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung shrugs. “But I think the highlight of tonight is going to be Y/N getting to see her guy all dressed up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No!” You exclaim a little too quickly, cheeks red. “Why would you say something like that?!”

“Because you’re whipped for him—”

“I am most certainly not—”

Jimin laughs out loud, almost toppling off of his chair. “You know, Y/N, we might have believed you if you weren’t redder than a fucking tomato right now—”

“PARK JIMIN! NOT YOU TOO!”

As luck would have it, you’re a solid ten minutes late.

Call time was at six o’clock, and here you are; slamming the car door shut as you wave a hasty goodbye to your father and run to the main entrance, all the while trying not to get drenched in the rain.

(Your folder and the music inside it are probably already soaked, but that’s an issue for another time.)

You hurry down the stairs, pushing the double doors open with a quick apology to Mrs. Choi, who gives you a stern look but says nothing else. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you slide into your seat, already unlatching your case.

“You’re late.”

You twist your neck to give your stand partner a blank stare. “I’m aware.”

“You look really nice,” he blurts out next, blinking faster than usual.

“Thanks?” You try and laugh it off, fastening your shoulder rest to the back of your violin. You’re not wearing anything fancy, just a flowy black dress with your hair tied back, but his remark renders you speechless for a split second “So do you.”

You manage to compliment him nonchalantly, but your heart is beating twice as fast, eyes admiring his parted, fluffy hair, the white dress shirt impeccable on his figure. And his lips…

Shit. You really are down bad, but you don’t have time to dwell on it — Mrs. Choi is starting the last piece already, and you’re scrambling to have your instrument ready by the time the first violins start with their little intro.

Seokjin laughs at you quietly, but inhales sharply when you start to rosin your bow hair. “You kept it,” he says softly, nodding at the block in your hands.

“Yeah,” you swallow, suddenly self-conscious. “I did.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not that ungrateful,” you wrinkle your nose at him. “Of course I kept it, Seokjin.”

“Jin.”

“Huh?”

“Jin,” he repeats, flicking a strand of chestnut hair away from his eyes. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“Since when am I your friend?”

“Would you rather not be?”

“Would you rather be?”

Seokjin — Jin, rather — frowns down at you. “Stop asking questions to my questions!”

“You did it first!” you exclaim, laughing. “Hypocrite! Answer mine, then!”

He looks at you for a long moment, like he’s taking his sweet time choosing the right words to say to you. “Since now,” he decides finally, firmly. “You are now. I want you to be mine. My friend,” he clarifies, turning deep red as he says it.

“I thought you hated me,” you muse. “And I was pretty sure you thought I was the lamest kid ever because I couldn’t play a single thing right.”

“Of course not,” Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You’re cool, Y/N. A little tone deaf, but cool.”

“Take that back!”

“I’m sorry, it’s the truth,” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You send him your best glare, but contrary to your facial expression, it’s nice to laugh with him like this. You’ve been so caught up with telling yourself that you shouldn’t be feeling anything but annoyance when you’re around him that you ignored your blossoming feelings, and now they’ve fully bloomed, leaving no room for that initial irritation you so often experienced.

Friends. It’s not what you most want, but it’s something. You could get used to that.

The concert goes smoothly, and the choir performances were absolutely delightful to watch — but your father is late, again, which means you’re stuck waiting for him out in the rain that hasn’t let up for hours.

You’re about to call him for the fifth time in ten minutes when you hear a set of heavy footsteps behind you, running up the stairway. “Y/N!”

“Jin?” you ask, surprised by the boy making his way toward you, brown hair completely soaked. “What are you doing out here?”

“I lied,” he says breathlessly, like he’s in a rush, and if he doesn’t tell you now, he might never be able to. “I’m sorry, I — I lied, Y/N. I don’t want you to be my friend — God, I don’t think I could live with that. I want you to be more.”

“Jin—”

“I just,” he exhales forcefully, “I want to be able to take you out and hold your hand and hug you and kiss you—”

When your mind finally clears up, you don’t let him finish his sentence, instead grabbing his collar and yanking him down so you can press your lips to his in one swift motion. A quiet gasp leaves his mouth, but he quickly adjusts to the situation, hands dropping his violin so he can gently cradle your face, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. It’s all happening so fast that you barely even have time to think, to properly take it all in.

His lips are cold due to the nasty weather, and you’re both sopping wet — and this is most definitely the worst setting for this to have happened, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That,” Jin breathes when you finally let him go, pupils dilated, “that was—”

“My first,” you finish. Your prior courage all gone, you’re a bit nervous now, too embarrassed by your bold move to even meet his eyes. What were you thinking? “I-I’m sorry...”

“Sorry?” Jin asks, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“You know, because… of that.” You can barely speak up, cheeks burning. “I-I don’t know why I did that. Is this — is this a prank or something? Did you plan this? Was I just supposed to laugh it off and threaten to take your eye out with my bow instead?”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, laughing. “Can’t you tell, Y/N?” He lowers his voice to a gentle whisper. “I like you, you idiot. Ever since you waltzed into the auditorium sophomore year and nearly broke your violin falling down the stairs, I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You… you like me?” you ask incredulously, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Like, for real? You’re not just pulling my leg like you usually love to do?”

“I meant what I said, Y/N,” he tells you softly, fingers intertwined with yours. His voice is genuine, soothing. “I want to do all those things with you, if you’ll let me.”

It takes you a while to reply, but when you do, your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you can barely hear yourself. “A-And if I said yes?”

A wide grin breaks out onto Jin’s face as he pulls you into a hug, both your instruments forgotten on the pavement and your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. A few days ago, you would have thought yourself a fool for even thinking that a day like this would ever come; yet here you are, all those daydreams come true.

It’s all so new to you, and you’ll most likely screw up along the way — multiple times. But hand in hand with Jin and his vexing ability to pick out a B from a B flat, things aren’t looking so bad.

You’ll work it out.

Hanging out with your friends is always a chaotic (but fun) occurrence — but when you add your boyfriend’s buddies into the mix, it all goes down to shit.

Actually, it’s all his fault, if you really think about it. Why on earth did he think challenging Taehyung to a baking competition was even remotely close to being a good idea?

“That’s so not fucking fair!” the aforementioned best friend cries, angrily shaking a spatula at a playfully grinning Jung Hoseok. “You can’t just hide the bag of flour! I fucking forgot to put it in!”

“Nothing we can do about it now, Tae,” Jimin sighs, massaging his forehead as the three of you stare at the burnt, soupy mass your team has created. “We fucking lost, that’s it.”

“So,” Jin smirks mischievously, nudging your elbow. “I guess Hoseok and I win this one, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you shove him back, though you’re grinning; a plate with a slice of his impeccably made cake in your hands and a fork lifted to your lips. “You’re good at this and you know it. I knew from the start that you were just trying to fuck around with Tae.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Your evil, demonic, deceptive, satanic boyfriend—”

“Nice vocabulary,” Hoseok comments without looking up, and you’re sure he’s on your best friend’s hit list at this point.

“Well — anyways, he’s out to get me,” Taehyung continues, frowning. “I feel attacked.”

“Yeah, okay, keep saying that several years from now when you’re sitting in a church and Y/N’s walking down the aisle,” Jimin says nonchalantly, causing you to choke on your cake in complete shock.

“What the heck — we’re literally eighteen! You can’t — you can’t just say things like that!” you exclaim indignantly, fork clattering against your empty plate. Jin grins widely all of a sudden, tapping your shoulder all of a sudden.

“Jagi.”

“Hmm?” You turn to him, momentarily forgetting how flustered Jimin’s comment made you feel.

“That was a really nice C# just now…”

Your mouth drops open as you gape at your boyfriend; part of you wants to cry and part of you wants to laugh. You knew when you agreed to make it official that somewhere along the line, you’d have to deal with these kinds of things, but now that it’s actually happening…

You turn to Jimin, patience already running thin from Jin’s antics (actually, you secretly love it, though you’ll never admit it to his face.)

“And you have the audacity to suggest that I’ll actually get married to this man?”

“Y/N? Honey, wake up. I… I just realized something.”

“Oh — Jin? What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. You know, I was thinking about it, and I realized that...” Your husband bites down on his lip hesitantly, glancing down at the baby sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“Yeah?” you press, curious.

“When Aera cries — you know, when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs,” he smiles fondly. “It’s always — she always cries in either F# or C#. It’s,” he looks like he’s nearing tears, “the D major key. Y/N, she literally cries in D major. I’m—”

You sigh, smiling amusedly to yourself as you snuggle up to him for extra warmth, holding your baby close. Leave it to none other than Kim Seokjin to analyze his daughter’s pitch — isn’t that part of the reason why you fell in love with him, anyway?

Life with Jin is many things — a chaotic mess that includes the constantly screaming light of your lives, three pandemoniac best friends, and far too many notes for you to keep track of. And though sometimes you want to chuck a blue-lidded block of rosin at his head to shut him up, you’re more than ready for it all.

— feedback/questions/just wanna chat?

thank you for reading perfect pitch! ♡

#applejinie #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin one shot #jin x reader #jin fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts one shot #rainguk #jin high school au #bts high school au #bts orchestra au #violinist!jin

[wrenhyperfixates]

Not So Alone

Pairing: Loki x female teen!reader (platonic) Summary: Meeting a young fan of his gives Loki some renewed hope. Warnings: none :) A/N: Here you go nonny! Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki was never one any person thought of much note, a sad fact he’d near resigned himself to, setting his face and body into an unbothered mask. The outside, at least, convinced everyone else, though no amount of staring at an emotionless reflection could impress upon Loki that he didn’t care. His mind was far too tumultuous for that. Anyway, for being the God of Lies, Loki has never figured out how to effectively lie to himself.

Five years in the Avengers Tower was far more than enough for the downtrodden god, and now he lived in an unremarkable apartment building that held some kind of charm to him, if solely for the reason there was a small, privately owned bookshop beneath it. He enjoyed the neatly arranged books in the display window, greeting him as he walked up the three stairs to unlock the building crammed in with so many others every day. Once his courage had been gathered two months after his initial move, he’d begun frequenting the store often.

Regardless of whether he was able to escape the relative misery he found himself stewing in by living in the Tower, he still had to work with the team that still managed to hold some amount of contempt for him even after he’d proved himself repeatedly. Simply, they weren’t cut from the same cloth, and when trying to sew the fabrics together, they clashed something awful. A truly dreadful state for a team of superheroes to work in, remarked Loki to himself often, and had resolved to make himself as small and agreeable as possible, though the sharp wit never died in his tongue. Such an attitude as he adopted seemed to suit the others just fine, and missions were carried out successfully and without any major mishaps more often than not.

Today he was heading that familiar way up to his home after a trip to the supermarket, when he saw a young girl sitting on those slate steps he could take two at a time if he really wanted to. Midgardians aged differently than what he was used to, so he wasn’t much good at supposing someone’s age, but he thought you looked to be about in your teenaged years. You were sitting glumly upon those cold, grey steps, staring down at the blank, stark white pages of a sketchpad. Your eraser on the tip of the pencil made a dull thump-thump-thump as you tapped it against the emptiness waiting to be enlivened by strokes from the opposite, leaden end.

“Pardon,” he said, carefully moving on your side.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I-” you cut off with a heinous sort of gasp, the kind Loki would have thought fake if not for the raw feeling behind it. “Y-you’re Loki!”

“Ah, so I have been found out,” he chuckled, somewhat nervously. It seemed you said it with a sort of starstruck wonder, but he could hardly believe such a thing possible and figured it was wishful thinking on his part.

“Oh my gosh!! I’m your biggest fan,” you squealed before introducing yourself and brandishing your still unfilled sketchbook and pencil toward him. “If-if it’s not too much trouble, could I maybe get y-your signature... Please?”

Now the shoe was on the other foot, and he felt shock at this stuttered request. It felt almost like some long forgotten fever dream. Someone wanted his signature? At this point, it was a small thing for the other avengers at this point, but not so for Loki, who so many were still afraid to meet eyes with. He could have continued wistfully standing there as if reminiscing over some passed joy, but this was the present, and he did not want to disappoint his biggest, possibly only, fan.

“Alright,” he granted, putting down his bags of fresh produce and fish he was planning on cooking up for dinner that night. He took the offered paper and scrawled a quick note, made out to the name you’d given him moments before. He was never much of an emotional speaker, but he hoped it sufficed. He finished with his well-practiced, looping signature. “Here you go, little one.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Loki!”

He chuckled a little at the sound of the name. True, he went by no surname as he felt he didn’t belong to any one particular group or family, and would rather not be reminded of his lineage, true or otherwise. Still, hearing the honorific before his name was unusual, especially when your continued respect prompted you to offer to help with his groceries.

“I am certain you need to be running home soon, it is almost dinner time. But I appreciate it immensely.”

“Don’t worry about that,” you persisted, grabbing a bag anyway. “I lice in the building. We just moved here. But you save the city literally all the time, and your powers are so cool! You deserve a little extra respect.”

“If you say so,” he managed, still in a fit of disbelief. “If anything, it should be because I am elderly. Over 1,000 years old, you know,” he joked.

Indeed, you did know, and began to ask him a series of questions about things he might have experienced in history, though pausing to ramble about how you hoped you weren’t pestering and to stop you if you were, he interjected it was no bother at all. By the time you reached the third floor where his rooms resided, you were bubbling with uncontainable excitement, sharing that your new home was on the same level, just a few doors down.

Once you’d helped him deliver his things to his table, he showed you back to the door when you told him your father would be home from work at any minute, and the god thought it important to introduce himself to his new neighbor. In those few minutes, you began to shy away again, that stutter coming back, as if you’d realized anew just what exactly was happening.

Loki shook the hand of the man you’d identified as your father, a nearly middle-aged sir who was just on the cusp of graying. He exchanged a quick conversation with him that resulted in an invitation to dinner that weekend. The god was near sure you were ready to collapse with excitement when he said yes, but you managed to remain relatively calm, though there was a certain spark behind your eyes. Still, it was a school night, and you had some homework to complete, so you all said goodbye to each other and went your separate ways.

As Loki settled down for the evening in his favorite, comfy armchair with the book he’d started the night before, for the first time in a long time, he felt not so alone, and most thrilling of all, he felt appreciated.

#platonic loki x reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

#Shigaraki Tomura x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere Shigaraki Tomura x reader #yandere Shigaraki Tomura #0 to 100 real quick? #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki Tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #Yandere #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere Shigaraki #yandere Shigaraki x reader

[captainxsassafras]

Showered in Love

E voila! My first piece of filth (hopefully of many, regardless of how long it takes my dumb ass to write it!)! I have no excuses, no reason other than I just want to take care of one (1) beautiful, dumb birdbrain. In whatever way possible. But we all came here to be horny, so horny it is! 🤣🤣🤣

But seriously, I hope you enjoy this entirely self-indulgent smut! I tried to keep the reader pretty neutral physicaly and focus more on the feeling, but please let me know if you notice anything there I might have missed or that I could improve on! Ask or dm, just please be respectful and polite! I'm new so I'm sure I have ways I could improve and I'm open to editing/updating to make it more inclusive! 💗

Warnings: explicit, handjob, shower sex, very subby Keigo, nipple play, body worship (?), real tender smut, comfort sex

And here you go! Tagging some people who might be interested!

@queensynderella @heyitswhiplash @lovekeigo @keilemlucent @keiqos

It had been a hard day.

Not for you. Your day had been ordinary in every sense. Nothing alarming or even really exciting had interrupted the normal scheme of your work schedule. You had arrived home a bit tired, but in an innocuously pleasant mood and put an easy to make casserole in the oven before working on the various little chores that helped keep the apartment clean.

You had been in the middle of moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer when he’d come in.

He had used the window.

That wasn’t ominous by itself. He used the window more often than not. The large window with the spacious balcony had been a must have when the two of you had bought the place and was a much more frequent feature of take off than the intended front door to the place. You probably would have been more concerned if he’d actually used that door.

Ok, that wasn’t true. You were just making morbid mental jokes to ease your own tension.

You weren’t scared.

You were worried.

You were sad.

You were hurting.

Because… he was.

An anxious little ball was twisting knots in your stomach. Crinkles marked the edges of your eyes as you turned off the oven and stood at the counter, contemplating his arrival.

He didn’t call out to you when he came in.

That should have been the first clue.

Keigo always called out to you when he arrived home unless he knew you were already asleep. It amazed you that he was constantly excited to see you when he got home. The light in his eyes traveled across his entire voice and even lightened his voice, taking his normal boyish sarcasm and lifting it to almost child-like wonder. The happy way he greeted you made your heart dance like a butterfly every single time.

But he didn’t this time.

He’d surprised you. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin when he first walked by. Silent as a ghost, you’d only noticed the movement out of the very corner of your eye and adrenaline had shot through your veins. You whipped around into a low stance, ready to fight God and the universe if they were attacking you in your own home. But God was nowhere to be found.

Keigo had stood, frozen to the spot, looking at you with blank eyes and an uncomprehending expression. It felt like the world had stopped. Not in a figurative, emotional sense. He had just been so still that you weren’t sure the world hadn’t stopped with him. You stood, unmoving and waiting for Keigo to move. Say hello. Give you a hug. Anything.

He didn’t.

And you knew something was wrong.

“Kei,” you’d breathed, moving to rush over to him and engulf him in your arms.

“Dove.”

You stopped.

The strangled, heavy sound of his voice sent a shiver down your back even now. God, it grated on your heart. Simultaneously beaten by an unspeakable harshness and weighed down by all the abyssal truths you knew he carried like Atlas.

Without another word he’d passed by, red wings trailing on the floor behind him in evidence of his exhaustion. That was… different.

The click of the bathroom door closing had broke your heart to pieces.

The sound of the shower starting was normally soothing, but today it was just another layer to the tension that had swept into the apartment on crimson wings.

And now he had been in there for twenty minutes.

Keigo was not a long shower person. Didn’t like wasting water. Which was a convenient excuse to shower together, but also how he really felt about it. He was just too impatient and showering wasn’t one of those things he liked to devote his sparse time to.

But he was still in there.

With pursed lips, you took the casserole from the oven and found a spot in the fridge. Another night. The dryer was started and before you could let the hurt surrounding Keigo scare you off, you went to him.

The bathroom door opened noiselessly to your touch. A waft of steam wet your face and you could feel the intense heat of the room within seconds. A purring, mechanic whirr from the fan masked the sound of the door closing, but you were sure Keigo knew you were in there. His feathers wouldn’t have missed the vibrations of the door, even dampened by the buffer of the water.

You were quiet as you undressed. Eyeing his clothes piled randomly across the floor, you went to the cabinet in the corner and brought out something you’d been saving for a treat. Tender eyes flicked to Keigo.

A spike of worry knotted your chest.

He hadn’t moved since you’d entered the bathroom.

He was just standing, water colliding with his bare skin and streaming down his frame to join the small pool at his feet. You wished you could fully appreciate the sight of his naked body. You wished you felt better about being able to see drop after drop caress every plane and curve of his skin. He was so gorgeous.

But your heart wasn’t in the heated looks you wanted to send.

You entered the shower slowly, taking care not to slip on slick tiles. The extra treat was deposited on the shelf full of soap, shampoo, and other hygiene products.

He was so warm as you slipped your arms around his torso and molded your body into the curve of his back. Your hands clasped, pulling him close. And for a moment you just stood, as close physically as you possibly could be. It didn’t feel like enough. His mind was far away still, lost in the echoes of some terrible, terrible secret he could never tell you. Soft cadences of breathe left you drowning in the feeling of him, letting your mind drift away from the thoughts of those secrets and bringing your own worries back to the very real man held so closely before you.

Keigo often complained about his lack of height and how he wished he had more back muscle, but you loved the lean, corded muscles. They were perfect to you. You also loved the fact that you could lay your head perfectly into the curve at the back of his neck and murmur into his ear.

“Hey there, feathers.”

He pooled into your touch and the tension drained away with those wandering rivulets of water. It wasn’t completely gone but the edge was softened. It was a butter knife now, useful but it wasn’t going to cut you for getting too close.

“Dooove.”

This time, when his voice came out strangled it was less… heartbreaking.

“Yes, love?”

No answer. Maybe he needed a bit of help.

“Do you need something.”

A single, slow nod.

You breathed into the feel of him. “Do you need me to take care of you?”

Oh god. The tiniest, strangled whimper kissed your ears as Keigo nodded again, leaning back into your frame. The shower-wet feathers of his wings pressed themselves into your body. You could feel them against every warm, vulnerable inch of flesh. A quick shift left your wandering fingers trailing downward across his abdomen dangerously. Feathers ruffling against your body had you biting your lip and holding back a moan. Those fingers found the wet, curled hairs that framed his groin and the moan ripped free, settling on the weight of anticipation. The feathers on his wings positively shivered while you traced the tight swoops of those golden curls. You knew them well, but still loved twirling your hands through them. A bit more wiry than the hair on his head, they were still surprisingly soft and springy. Keigo assured you he loved your own curls, but the downy feel of his never ceased to make you the slightest bit jealous.

Wet flashes of red spun out the corners of your eyes as his wings shuddered and shifted against the onslaught of your hands teasing through Keigo’s hair. He cried out as your left hand reached up to card through the wet hair on his head. You matched the twirling of each hand, one at his brow and one at his groin and groaned loudly into the crook of his neck. His feathers were dancing against your skin.

Fortunately, you weren’t the only one making noise.

Pain mixed with pleasure as you kneaded your bottom lip. You reveled in the sweet, sweet noises that left Keigo’s throat with each tender swirl of your hand. They were soft, high, and so very needy. So very perfect.

“Keigo.” You placed gentle kisses into the space behind his ear. “I’m here to help, to take care of you. But I need to know what you need.” More kisses. “Do you want me to wrap you up in a blanket and feed you your favorite food? Or do you need to fuck this out?”

A moan escaped that was dangerously close to a whine.

“Ohhh, I love it when you cry for me, babe. But I need your words right now.”

“Fucking.” His words were full of heat and light with breathlessness.

“Ok, love. What kind? Fuck me senseless?” You paused, waiting for a reaction. Nothing notable. Your tongue found your lips as you considered your next words and the actions they might lead to. “Do I need to take care of my good boy?”

He went still. The sound that echoed across the empty bathroom tiles was the stuff of fantasy. You felt yourself clench and knew at that moment exactly what he needed.

“Mm, ok.” You moved away and delighted in the way Keigo’s entire body followed, trying to sink back into your hold. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, love.”

And he stayed where he was, so still you couldn’t believe it save for the heaving of his chest and nearly imperceptible trembling of his wings. You placed a kiss to the edge of his feathers and reached blindly behind you to grab the treat from before.

He sighed into the contact.

It wasn’t anything quite that special. Just a body wash that you knew Keigo particularly liked. The smell always had him burying his head in whatever piece of skin was available, to fold himself in the scent. It had been backordered for several months and you’d gotten your hands on it as a surprise for your lover. You’d planned to bring it out on some sort of special, happy day, but today it seemed like the perfect little surprise to pamper him with.

Covering your hands with the gel, you encompassed him again and started with washing his shoulders. Gentle hands smoothed over hot skin and worked at the tight muscles.

A gasp ran through his body when the smell reached him.

“Dove, you’re spoiling me.”

Hands slid to his back, carefully avoiding the sodden wings. Those got a special treatment and didn’t take well to body wash. Not friends with the mundane, human hygiene products.

“And?” You nearly sang. His tight ass was next and you knelt behind him to take your time carefully washing down each leg. Every curve and crevice was gently attended to. He whined as you swept your hands within touch of each area he wanted you to stroke most. Naturally, you pulled away as soon as it seemed like you might actually touch him there. Deep melodious laughter filled the spaces between his high, endless keening. You could tell the moment he felt your breath smoothing over the supple curve of his ass. The resounding whines cut off abruptly and the intense, broad heaves of his chest quickened and almost fluttered.

You hovered.

He stopped breathing entirely.

You began to stand and as you did, you placed a sweet, yet scorching kiss to the soft plane of each beautiful, taut, trembling ass cheek.

That earned you a whiny, desperate laugh. The chuckle choked off as soon as you melded into his body again, hands sliding around to cup his pecs.

You breathed into his ear and with each gentle word, your hands swept across his chest in ever tightening circles, slowly closing in on the sweet little jewels at the center. “If I’m taking care of you, it’s my job to spoil you. Don’t you think?” Tender fingers found his nipples, already pert and ready, and rolled the little buds in soapy circles.

His moans strangled and stuttered. Grasping hands reached back, clawing at something, anything, to hold to. He needed an anchor. He needed grounding in the midst of every bit of mind-numbing pleasure roiling and writhing through his weary nerves. He found your hips and clung like a man drowning, gasping for air and up to his head in a river of luxuriant ecstasy. He never wanted to surface again. He would drown in this flood of euphoria if you’d let him.

You slowed with his nipples when you felt his hips begin to make messy, haphazard, not-quite thrusts into thin air.

You knew without a doubt that your beautiful bird could and would cum right here without a single bit of direct stimulation to his cock. He was so worked up, you could see clearly in your mind the moment he’d burst, spreading hot cum all over from just the endless, maddening rolling of his nipples. It made you clench and squeeze like mad just to think of it.

But that wasn’t quite what you wanted. And you could tell it wasn’t quite what Keigo needed. Ok, you thought it wasn’t the right thing for him, but you felt like you had a pretty good grip on what this wonderful man needed at the moment. And he had put his trust in you. He had given over to you the gift of taking care of him. He had surrendered the responsibility of deciding himself what he needed and given that to you. You would never betray that trust by doing something you didn’t think was to his direct and utmost benefit. Or to his highest pleasure.

Your boy trusted you and you were going to take care of him thoroughly.

Previous conversations and past experience had revealed that, while the nipple orgasms were overwhelming and utterly consumed him with rolling, trembling waves pleasure, they weren’t as wholly sating as direct stimulation. They left him boneless and weak, but not finished.

You wanted him absolutely wrung out.

Those half thrusts quickened and you left his nipples alone.

He was too overwhelmed to even complain.

“Good boy.” Wandering hands ventured south. “My sweet, wonderful good boy.”

His head lolled back and wings twitched weakly at the feeling of your fingers in his curls again. However, you didn’t linger in those cute little whirls of hair for long. You had a prize to find.

And find it you did.

He was so hard you couldn’t help but bite your lip in excitement. Deep, reaching breaths wracked his torso as your hands moved down his cock at a torturous pace. As it was, several seconds passes before you found your way to the very tip. God, he was leaking. Mapping out the contours of his gorgeous, aching cock, you felt around the head and spent the time to rub at the slit as slowly as possible. Back and forth, over and over, relishing the tiny, twitchy thrusts that accompanied the motion.

A long, shaky, drawn-out whine from Keigo filled your head and you nearly lost it as the feeling of a fresh spurt of precum met your thumb.

“Oh, oh. My precious, precious boy. You like that so much, don’t you?”

“Yee-eeees!” Without warning, his hips canted forward just the slightest creating friction across the tip.

Oh, that was enough. He was ready to burst and deserved the reward of a full-force orgasm. What a magnificent, wonderful man. And he was all yours to equally ruin and cherish with each maddening stroke.

Without warning, you began the move your hands up and down the length of his cock.

Keigo’s reaction was instant. The long, never-ending whines raised in pitch and shortened, creating a rhythm in time with your stroking. His breathing became chaotic, devolving into a staccato mess of sharp, desperate gasps and bone-deep, shuddering exhales that reached into your core and drove you wild. And through it all, his wings pitched in erratic, arrhythmic twitches he couldn’t even begin to control. Starting at the top, where you nibbled and teased the sensitive skin connecting back to wing, they ruffled and writhed in waves all the way down to the feathers at the very tips.

It was a wonder to watch, but your attention was soon drawn back to his face. You could only see the edges standing behind him, but you knew your bird and you knew what he looked like when he was lost like this. His faces were rapturous. Brow scrunched, eyebrows tilted up. If his eyes were open, they’d be lifted skyward like he was praying to some unknown god of divine ecstasy. If they were closed, the corners would be crinkled. Every now and then, they’d crinkle even more, squeezing tight as he was undone by his own body. His head was angled back, leaning against your shoulder. He was too encompassed by the feel of your hands on his cock to keep his head up. But that was ok. More than ok. He didn’t need to keep himself up. That’s what you were here for.

His mouth was hanging open. That you could see. Soft, lush lips slack and loosing the melodic aria of fucked out whines to cascade around you like a filthy sonnet.

Those adorable, overwhelmed whines reverberated through Keigo and into your frame, consuming your mind with the sensuous joy of utterly ruining the gorgeous man leaning against you. The one struggling not to fuck himself into your hands. He was so good.

“C’mon, big boy, move for me.”

And he did, like the perfect man he was.

God, you loved to see him fuck himself senseless into your hands. You loved seeing him drive himself to that ultimate high while you got to coo praise into his ear and feel the way he throbbed and thrust with each tender, adoring word.

One of your hands left his dick and returned to torture his nipple.

God, you almost came right there.

Everything synced.

The stroking of your hand across the length of his aching cock, the squeezing of his sensitive, budded nipple, the endless, rasping circle of reaching breaths. The instant your hand found that pretty little bud, the thrusting of his hips shifted into a circular, full torso roll. They undulated in an involuntary, uninhibited dance of fucked out delirium. And the uncontrolled twitching of his wings changed to match, exactly, the rhythm of his hips. They beat in overwhelmed circles perfectly in sync with the smooth, svelte, seeking roll of Keigo’s hips into the tight grip of your hand.

And then he was lost.

He shattered. He was consumed.

A thousand pieces of brilliant, fiery, piercing pleasure shot through him and wrapped around his very center. A glorious flood overtook his senses and it was all he could do to stay upright with each roiling wave stronger than the last. Hot, white cum shot out and coated the shower wall and floor, rope after rope arcing with the crest of each radiant spike of pleasure.

As for you?

You came almost in unison, the orgasm a pleasant surprise. When Keigo came, his wings went utterly wild; shivering, shaking, twisting, ruffling, writhing. The sudden friction of unexpected stimulation combined with the height of desire you achieved from driving Keigo to Nirvana pushed you over that knife’s edge into a slow, deep, yet surprisingly powerful orgasm.

And there the two of you were, both glued to each other, hips undulating in a carnal dance of mind-numbing orgasm until finally, finally the two of you slowly began the careful descent from bliss. You buried your face in his neck and focused on the sensual feeling of two bodies moving against each other, labored breaths adding extra friction in the aftermath. Warm, milky cum gushed over your hand. Keigo’s cock was still oozing and his hips still jerking in tiny, uncoordinated rolls.

Humming into his skin, you relaxed into the cool down. That was so fucking sexy.

You let go of his softening dick before he could accidentally overstim himself. Not tonight.

However, you couldn’t help but keep your hand on his nipple, twisting and peeking down to see how his hips jolted weakly with each tweak of the perky bud.

You clenched as you caught sight of his softened cock spurting little bursts of seed with each tweak.

After a minute or so, you let up. It was time to let him come down.

But you didn’t let go of him. Instead you wrapped your hands tight around him, reveling in the feel of his breath slowing. A final, deep, shuddering exhale had him leaning back against you, completely boneless in your tender arms.

“Dove.” Keigo’s head turned and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he breathed against your skin.

“Mmm, don’t mention it.” Tired arms squeezed a little tighter in their embrace. “You all good? Or do you need to be fucked up a little bit more?”

His chuckle danced through both of your bodies. “I’m good, lovebird. You got me real good.” He wiggled around to face you. It was his turn to circle you in his arms, pull you close, bask in the way you molded to his body, melting into his hold. He kissed your hair and the two of your stayed that way for a while, spent and sated and utterly content together.

Keigo broke your silence, low voice weaving through the sound of the shower and caressing your ears.

“You know what I am good for though?” He paused, but didn’t wait for a real response. Which was good, because you hadn’t planned on anything beyond a wordless grunt. “You, me, some delivery, no clothes, and the fluffiest blankets we own.”

You hummed into his neck.

“Lights down low, we eat some food, then we snuggle together as close as two people can without fucking.”

A peal of laughter caught the tired edges of your voice. “Ah, you almost made that sweet.”

He spluttered. “That was super sweet!”

“Almost.”

“Entirely.”

“Mmm.” You dipped your head without warning and took his sensitive nipple into your mouth, pulling at it lightly with your teeth.

Keigo’s entire body spasmed, still sensitive in the wake of his earlier orgasm. His dick twitched against your torso as he groaned deep down inside his throat.

“Careful, babybird, or I’ll ruin you again.”

He whined at the pet name and crushed your body even closer.

Looks like he wasn’t as fucked out as he thought.

Your lips twitched in a small smile as you grabbed his ass, pulling him almost unbearably tight against you, and continued teasing his nipple with your teeth. Grinding slowly on his hardening cock, you drowned yourself in the sublime sound of his resounding moans.

#hawks #bnha hawks #mha hawks #boku no hero academia hawks #my hero academia hawks #bnha hawks smut #mha hawks smut #boku no hero academia hawks smut #my hero academia hawks smut #mha keigo takami #bnha takami keigo #takami keigo #Takami keigo smut #hawks smut #fluff #takami keigo fluff

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.” You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he’s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

#typetober #alktypetober #kofi request #ko-fi requests #kenma kozume #omega!reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu reader insert #kenma kozume x reader

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

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

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

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

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

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

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

#mkg #mkg smut #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson x reader #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #EST #XX #Pete Davidson #colson baker x reader #alpha omega #AU #mgk fanfic #machine gun Kelly fanfic #Colson baker reader

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | four

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 4.2k

warnings: implied sexual content, your friends are still extra, cussing / mature language, relationship issues, angst, making out, slight dry humping, you actually act on your hoe-ish thoughts because seokjinnie keeps testing you??

notes: 2nd member involved in this love triangle will be revealed next chapter and it’s actually gonna start getting messy. are you with me? 😈

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish​ @photographic-girl (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

A couple of days have passed and you were only getting more giddy as time passes. It sounds stupid as hell, and sometimes you can't help but curse yourself for having a crush on someone so unattainable. The thrill, though, is what excites you, and knowing that there's a possibility Jin may reciprocate the same feelings. Since he had placed his number in your phone, he had sent you random, occasional 'have a good day!' texts and smiley faces. Maybe it didn't help that he was only fueling the fire by sending you texts like this. You couldn't help but ponder on the thought that you had crossed his mind from time to time, and that my friends, was fucking attractive.

"Her head game was on point." Taehyung smirked and leaned back in his chair, making Ryujin roll her eyes at him.

"You're sick, no one asked about your night."

"Why do you sound so mad, sweetie?" He leaned closer to her.

"I'm not mad." She scooted her chair away from him. "Can you believe this right now?" She shot you a look, but you were too busy texting on your phone, responding to the messages you couldn't get to earlier.

[jin] 3:05pm: I hope your day has been treating you well. See you soon?

[y/n] 5:37pm: Been a little busy, but hasn't been bad. :) Excited for class!

You laughed at yourself because who even says 'Excited for class' like that? You were really playing yourself right now.

"Earth to Mr. Kim's mistress?" You shot Taehyung a look and immediately shoved his face away.

"Jeez, you've been glued to your phone so much lately. Did you find new dick, or something?" Ryujin asked as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

"No, god. I've just been trying to keep myself occupied." She shrugs and doesn't press any further. Thank god, because you hadn't told any of your friends how Jin comforted you that evening and how he had given you his personal number just to check in every now and then. You didn't plan on telling them anytime soon, only because they'd be dramatic about it and you didn't have the energy to calm the chaos that would ensue.

"Speaking of - have you guys started the assignment due next week for Mr. Kim's class?" Jimin kept his eyes on the work in front of him.

"No. I'll probably do that the day of." Taehyung says as he texts on his phone.

"I was going to ask him for help later."

"Were you now?" Jimin rose his eyebrow, shooting you a look.

"Yes, and it's only because I can't choose which topic to write about."

"Why don't you ask us?"

"Because this always ends up being an open-ended debate and the conversation ultimately ends with no decision made." Jimin nodded in agreement.

"Touché."

"Bat your eyelashes while you're at it, kay?" Ryujin giggles.

"You guys are free to join me."

"Mmm no thanks, I don't think I need any help right now." Jimin responds.

"Same. Besides, I'd rather not cockblock."

"Honestly so sick of you guys." You all end up packing your things to head to Jin's classroom, all four of you entering one by one and taking your seats near the front. Class goes by rather quickly, you and Jin stealing glances from time to time. Ryujin, Jimin and Taehyung offer to wait up for you near the library and you simply nod, letting them know you'll only take a quick minute to talk about the assignment. Once they've disappeared from the hallway corridor, you turn on your heels to make your way over to Jin at the front desk, where he's arranging his things and getting them together.

"Y/N, hey." He smiles at you, tilting his head to look at you from his stance. "What's up?"

"I uh, just wanted to ask for your opinion about the assignment. If.. you aren't busy?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not at all. What's going on?"

"Well, I've just been having trouble deciding on a topic." You placed your things down.

"Alright, try me." He nods towards the whiteboard, signaling for you to scribble your ideas onto the board so he could help you map out your thoughts. You quietly walk over, grabbing the only black whiteboard marker available and start talking through your thoughts. He sits on the desk, arms crossed, watching you scribble on the board. He chimes in every now and then, either agreeing or disagreeing, and providing his honest opinion as to what might work best for the assignment.

"Mm, okay. I think that makes better sense." You step back and take a look at the things you've crossed out and circled, leaving you to finalize the topic for your assignment.

"Yeah, I think so." He stands and nods in agreement. You turn to look at him, only to realize how close in proximity your body was to his. His hands are tucked into his pockets while he looks down at you. Both of you don't move, regardless of how close you two are at the moment. You feel stuck, and the only option that crosses your mind is something you shouldn't even be thinking about. Yet, you still act on it. You find yourself on your tippy-toes laying a kiss on his plump lips, but you quickly pull away and gasp, realizing what you had done.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-" You stutter as you step back to try and quickly grab your things. "I gotta go." You dash out of the room, your heart beating through your chest. As soon as you were far as possible from his room, you slowed your pace to gather your breathing. You facepalmed so hard because what the fuck! You felt dumb as hell for acting the way you did, let alone for thinking his texts and all the attention even meant anything.

Way to fucking go, Y/N. You could feel how embarrassing next class will be already.

As soon as you spot your friends, you try to put on a smile and brush the thoughts out of your head when you see them waving you over. Jimin instantly throws his arm around your shoulder, helping you feel at ease as you momentarily forget about the events that just transpired.

"Ready? We're gonna go grab some pizza before heading home." You smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm down."

Jin grabbed his things, feeling a little conflicted about what just happened. He knew this was something that shouldn't have happened, nor should it ever happen again. Yet, he wanted more of this feeling you gave him. He longed for it. He couldn't explain the feeling he got when he felt your lips against his, he just knew he was interested in more. It was bad as fuck, but it was the same thrill you felt that peeked his interest.

Jin pulled into the lot of him and Grace's house, seeing he was the first one home yet again. It wasn't a surprise to him anymore, and quite frankly, he was used to being home first all the time. It would have been a surprise if Grace was here before he was. Not gonna lie, after what happened, it makes him feel a little empty inside. He's starting to feel like he wanted more of you and to see you outside of campus grounds. He wanted your company and enjoyed your presence, inside of the classroom and even through simple things like text. It just made him happy, and like he was appreciated. Wanted.

Yeah, that quick. He was starting to crave you.

He kicked off his shoes by the door and changed into comfier clothes. He took some time to work out at their home gym before eating whatever leftovers were left in the fridge. He happily warms up his food and quickly gobbles it up, leaving the dishes in the sink for him to get to later. He hops into a hot, relaxing shower, letting the heat hit his back and relax him from all the stress he had been experiencing lately. It was so relaxing that he didn't even hear Grace shut their front door. He only found out he wasn't alone when he heard dishes being washed and slammed onto the dish rack and cabinet doors being slammed shut. He dried himself off a bit, before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading into the kitchen to see what the commotion was.

"Hey, you're home." He says with a smile on his face, but she continued to place dishes on the rack without looking at him.

"Yeah, and you couldn't even think to wash your dishes and clean up the kitchen?" His smile immediately turned into a frown when he realized Grace was far from being in a good mood. Over what? Dishes that he was eventually going to wash anyways?

"I was going to get to them."

"Jeez, Jin. I've had such a long day, the least you could do is help out and clean up after yourself." She glared at him.

"Woah, hey. I do my part around here. Just because I didn't do my dishes right away doesn't mean I don't do anything at all under this house."

"Hasn't seemed like it." She walked away, brushing him off completely. If it's one thing Jin could point out about his fiancé, it was the fact that she liked to project when she was upset. It was the one thing that drove him crazy, and the one thing he felt like couldn't be fixed. It was just in her nature, no matter how many times they've fought and argued about it. He tries to be patient and understanding. He tries to relate. Yes, I'm sorry you had a bad day. But just because you had a bad day, doesn't mean you bring the negative energy into this house.

"That's not fair, Grace."

"Grow up, Jin." She snapped as she headed upstairs. "I'm going up to pack and head to bed." He continued to watch her, appalled at the attitude she was throwing tonight. He really couldn't understand why this was happening over some dishes. He didn't wanna be here right now, and he wasn't going to deal with this shit. To be honest, he was feeling a little relieved knowing he'd get some space from her when she flies to New York for a week. She had some work to do for the opening of her restaurant down there, plus some related projects for her book.

He heads upstairs to throw on some jeans, a hoodie and a hat before passing Grace in their walk-in closet.

"Off for a drive again, huh?" She says as she keeps her eyes on the luggage laid out in front of her. It's sad that Grace knows what Jin does whenever he doesn't wanna deal with her attitude. But, no matter how many times he's tried to communicate and talk it out, it never mattered to her.

"Yeah, because it doesn't seem like you can communicate properly tonight."

"And how is a drive supposed to help?" She turns to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. She scoffs before returning her attention back to the clothes she was packing into her luggage. "Perfect. Run away from our issues, Jin. It's what you do best." He shook his head and sighed.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight, Grace. Not over some dishes that were eventually going to get washed and fixed." He walked out, but turned back on his heel to finish off his thoughts. "You know, I really wanted to have a nice night with you. Pop some wine and put on a movie, just to enjoy being in each other's presence since it feels like we haven't done that in a really long time. But, so be it." He threw his hands up in defeat and continued to walk out. He really did want to try, though. Part of him felt like he needed to because he was probably just longing for that attention from his fiancé, which is why he had been feeling the way he had been about you. Maybe it would have helped him brush it off like it was a silly, little crush. However, tonight just amplified those feelings he had for you and he wanted nothing more but to just see you and hear your voice.

He lowers the brim of his cap as he walks to his car, instantly starting it up and driving off. At first, he was conflicted. He wasn't sure if he was making the right decision or not, or if his judgment was cloudy. But something in him tweaked and made him say, fuck it. He was tired, and for once, he just wanted to feel wanted.

You sat on your living room floor, putting together a vision board for yourself. A ton of magazine cut outs and printouts laid alongside of you, waiting to be organized onto the small white board. You had been rearranging the layout for quite some time, feeling a little frustrated at the perfectionist in you. This definitely could have been quicker if you hadn't picked at the fine details too much. It was nearing 10:30pm; after you and your friends had ate pizza together, you all went your separate ways, tired from this week's events already. You especially didn't want to linger around, the thought of you kissing Jin in the classroom still haunting you. You felt your phone vibrating off to the side, signaling a call coming in.

Speak of the devil.

You hesitate, afraid that this had to do with what happened earlier and to be frank, you weren't sure if you were ready to deal with the repercussions just yet. The call ends, but a text notification pops up at the top of your screen.

[jin] 10:27pm: Are you free right now?

[y/n] 10:28pm: Sorry, yeah I am. What's up?

[jin] 10:29pm: Can we meet up?

You stare at your phone, unsure if you should take the opportunity to see him. It could mean a lot of things, or it could mean nothing. It could be about the kiss, or it couldn't be. But, you can't help but feel a little guilty that he had been there for you when you needed someone and here you were, contemplating if you should blow him off.

[y/n] 10:32pm: Sure. Is everything okay?

[jin] 10:32pm: I think, kind of just need some good company.

[y/n] 10:33pm: Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll come. Just let me know where.

You watch as he drops his location into the message, and it's not too far from where you live. You actually are quite familiar with the area to know that he's sending you up to a view that overlooks the Bay Bridge. You and your friends used to go there often during undergrad, just to eat edibles and eat hella junk food. Those were the days. You all quickly outgrew it though.

The drive up is a little scary, with only a few street lights posted as you drive up the hill. You catch a glimpse of Jin's car, being that he's already leaning against it, facing the view. You pull up into the empty spot next it, taking a deep breath and recollecting your thoughts before stepping out. Whatever it is, just be honest. That kiss was because you wanted to kiss him, but perhaps you misread the vibe about everything.

Not perhaps. You for sure misread the vibe about everything. He's fucking engaged. There was no way.

"I brought you brownie." Is the first thing you say as you hand him a ziploc with a huge brownie square. "There's no weed in it or anything, I promise it's clean." He chuckles as he takes it from you. "I just figured you could use a picker upper since you seemed like you might've need it."

"Thank you." His trunk had been open, so he takes a seat and invites you to sit next to him. You leave a bit of space just to be sure, since you already crossed your boundaries earlier and you weren't even sure how that was gonna play in to tonight.

"So, what's on your mind?" You dread asking him the question but you knew there was a reason he brought you out here.

"I, uh. Just had a pretty tough day and wanted to surround myself around good company." He turned to look at you.

"Oh, so I made the good company list?" You chuckle.

"Yeah, you did." He looks back out at the view. You examine him, his body language still a little tense from whatever he had just experienced.

"Was it Grace?" You ask softly and he nods in return.

"We've just been having issues. It's no biggie."

"No biggie, huh? Then why are we out here looking at the bay bridge?" He chuckles again. You think it's cute the way his dimples under his eyes pop out when he smiles and laughs.

"Touché. I mean, what if I just wanted to hang out with someone who could cheer me up?"

"Wow, then that's a lot of pressure on me." You laugh. "I can already tell something's wrong. You were there for me, so I just want you to know that I'm all ears." He sighed.

"It's kind of dumb? Maybe not? Me and Grace just haven't been the same for awhile now."

"How so?"

"We're just distant. We haven't done things together like we used to because we're both busy and so wrapped up with work."

"Jin." You smile shyly because this couldn't be a serious excuse. You always need to try and make things work! "You know being busy shouldn't be an excuse, right?"

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, it's difficult to explain. I question if we're still in love with each other or if we're just sticking to this because we're comfortable."

"Deep down, I know you still love and care for her."

"I do. It's been hard to show that these past months. I guess.. what I'm trying to say is that it's been easy to focus more on the negatives than the positives. There have been more negatives than positives."

"Why don't you sit her down and talk about this?"

"I can't. I try, but I really can't. She's always coming home in a nasty mood all the time."

"Well, she might have a lot to balance on her plate. Not everyone approaches things the same way and if you know Grace easily shuts people out when she's overwhelmed or stressed, then I think you just need to continue supporting her by simply being there for her."

"I know." He looks down at his hands.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking. I hear you loud and clear though." He smiles at you toothlessly.

"Try talking to her. Work it out. I know she's important to you."

"She is but," He shakes his head once more. "I can't shake off this feeling."

"What feeling?"

"It's going to sound stupid."

"Nothing is ever stupid." He simply looked at you before responding.

"Earlier, in the classroom—" Fuck, you thought. You thought you had just gotten lucky tonight and that you both had put it past you so that you could move on without ever mentioning it. But half of you knew you'd still have to confront your mistake either way. Nothing was ever that easy.

"Jin, I'm so sorry, I didn't think about—"

"I didn't want you to stop." He spits out, causing you to stop mid-sentence. Your eyes widened after you had just registered what he had said. Was he fucking playing with you right now? This shit really couldn't be real.

"W-what?"

"I can't shake off this feeling because of you and as bad as it sounds, I really don't want that to go away."

"Jin." You say softly. "You should really work this out with Grace. This feeling is just temporary and you know it is because she's your fiancé. What happened earlier was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened." It kind of sucks, but it's true. You don't really know why you did what you did and what you wanted out of it. You knew what this would entail and it would be too messy. People would just end up getting hurt left and right. It would be a domino effect.

"Was it though?"

"I'm not trying to get in between you two." You beat around the bush with your response.

"Then, what did you want out of that earlier?" He stares at you. You can't help but feel yourself melt at the way he's eyeing you and the way he's actually teasing the fuck out of you with his piercing eyes.

"I don't know." He continues to stare, but this time his face is edging closer to yours.

"You can't even tell me straight up that it was nothing." He says, almost at a whisper. Your knees are starting to buckle beneath you and although you knew you needed to stop this, you couldn't see yourself doing it right at this moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You whisper, his lips inches away from yours at this point.

"Then why aren't you stopping me, Y/N?" No response. Before you knew it, your eyes were shut as your lips pressed against his. The feeling of his lips sent chills down your spine, his hand now tugging you closer to his body. You waste no time straddling his lap, deepening the kiss as your hands rest on his face and your hips grind against his. God, he was so fucking attractive and everything about him drove your ass crazy. You wanted him.

But you couldn't have him.

"Stop, stop." You edged your head back, reality settling in once his hands start to dip inside your sweats. "We really shouldn't be doing this." You climb off of him and gather your things.

"Y/N, wait."

"Jin." You turn to look at him. "Listen to me. We would never work."

"I wouldn't say never—"

"Look, this is already difficult as is and I'm trying really hard not to make this even more complicated for anyone. At the end of the day, you're still with Grace. You're still engaged to Grace." You emphasized. "I can't get in between you two, and I don't want to hurt her." How in the fuck did things escalate so quickly? How did we get here?

"I know that, and I know you don't. But you can't tell me that you didn't feel anything just now."

"I'm not saying that I didn't. I did, I-I do." You stuttered on your own words. "But I shouldn't be acting on it and neither should you. You should really focus on working things out in your relationship. I know deep down you love her and want to make this work."

"That's the thing, Y/N. I don't know how else I can make this work with her. I've ran out of options."

"Jin, you planned to marry her! You do understand that you can't just give up on someone like that, especially your future wife."

"As much as I appreciate this and understand where you're coming from, you don't know our relationship."

"I just don't want you to give up on her. I want you to try for her, not just because I told you so." He can see how serious things have turned, and  he knew you were right. This would be complicated. But damn, was he undeniably attracted to you and he loved the feeling he got from all of this.

"I-" He sighs. "You make me feel things that I haven't felt in a long time."

"You have your life planned out already, and so does Grace. You obviously saw a life and a future with her, and that's what you should continue building. I don't even know how to get from point A to point B in life and I still have shit to learn. Like-like changing car lights or how to do a fucking oil change by myself! I'm a mess. I'm not the one you should be thinking about."

"I don't care about that." He spits out as he gently grabs your wrist and turns you to face him.

"Don't make this harder than it already is." With all this shit going on, you still found yourself wanting him the same way you did earlier. Looking at him made you want to do unspeakable things and it didn't help that he gave you the green light to do so.

The temptations.

"I'm not trying to."

"We should really keep our distance from each other, okay? You need to work things out and I'm going to give you the space to do so."

"Fuck, Y/N. I really don't want that."

"I'm sorry." You whisper as you break free from his grip and get back into your car. You hear him groan, causing you to cry to yourself as you drive off and get back home. One mistake turned everything upside down, and now everything was suddenly 10x more complicated than it ever was in the beginning. You couldn't help but curse yourself and blame yourself for letting this happen the way it did.

But shit is done. The mistake happened. There was no taking it back.

You just needed to give him space to get over it, and that would be the end of it. Easy.

Or so you assume.

#bts #bts fanfiction #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts jin #bts jin smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts au #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #kim seokjin series

[maple-writes]

WHG 17: The Reaping

whg tag list: @concealeddarkness13 @pen-of-roses @ratracechronicler @childrenoflight-darkness-nothing @knmartinshouldbewriting

---

No one paid Moraine much mind, limping as he made his way with the others to the check in line. At his shoulder, Willow stood with her usual wary eye cast over the heads of the potential tributes at the empty for now stage.

“This is your last year, isn’t it?” Moraine whispered. It never felt right to speak any louder standing in line here.

She nodded. “It is. I’m trying not to think about my odds though.”

Moraine swallowed. She’d always been a bit of a leader, and a risk taker for the sake of others. She’d rather put her name in an extra time than someone else and no one had ever been able to change her mind. Willow was right to worry about her odds.

“It’s fine though.” She kept going. “I made my choices and I stand by them.” She paused as they all took another step forward, casting him a glance. “Why keep your old body? Surely it must be easier not to keep changing back whenever you come around.”

“It’s familiar.” Even if it were easier to move as a god it felt out of place whenever he came back home. Wandering the mortal world didn’t feel right sometimes without the stiffness and odd aches that came with it. “And I don’t want to make anyone feel like they should defer to me. Not here.” If anything, it was because of all of them he lived as long as he did.

Willow snorted, rolling her eyes. “So sentimental. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Next!”

It was his turn to step up to the table. A bored peacekeeper sat there waiting for him, holding out a fingerprint scanner attached to a shiny computer. An upgrade from last year. Maybe it was to ward off some of the fraud he’d heard about in some of the previous games. Not that the ground level guards cared. He held his finger to the scanner. It beeped, the peacekeeper clicked something, and she frowned.

“Mica?”

He nodded.

“Says here you’re dead.”

“It does?” He tried to lean over to see the screen but quickly flinched back when the peacekeeper shot a glare. “I… I don’t know anything about that.”

The peacekeeper leaned back in her chair, eyebrows furrowing as she stared at her screen. She glanced at the clock in the center of the square, back at her screen, back at the clock, and finally back at the screen as she sighed.

“Must have been misfiled.” She waved him off. “Go on.”

He nodded again and left for the waiting area. Before now he hadn’t thought anyone actually filled out a death certificate for him. Huh. Did it have a cause of death included? Was that cause of death how he actually died, or a convenient lie spun by the supervisor who’d beaten him?

Standing in the square was just like he remembered. Heavy silence, averted eyes, and time that seemed to tick by far too slowly until finally the opening video played and broke the silence. The escort came out as it finished and made her speech short and to the point before her hand entered the bowl of papers and the silence fell again.

She opened the paper and read the name. Moraine didn’t recognize it, but he recognized the boy that stepped out. Twelve years old, a quiet kid he’d seen around for years. He’d seen that boy grow, seen him mourn the death of his sister, nursed him when he fell ill in the winter…

“I’ll go instead.” Moraine raised his hand and the boy froze in his spot.

The camera panned from the tears already falling down the boy’s face to Moraine, watching the nearest peacekeeper for permission to step out of line. He nodded, and he kept his head down as he made his way down the center aisle. The boy still hadn’t moved, standing scared in the middle of the path. Moraine paused as he passed with a gentle hand on his back. He gave a little nudge and the boy stumbled back to the crowd. He gripped the handrail going up to the stage for balance and tried not to notice all the eyes on him as he crossed the platform.

The escort looked him up and down, doubt apparent even past the layers of make up. “And who might you be?”

“Mica.”

“Well, congratulations Mica!” She clasped her hands together in front of her in a clap loud enough to echo through the speakers. “We have our first tribute!”

Oh, Day was going to kill him for this.

#whg 17 #prompt 2 #the reaping #moraine #may or may not have just made up willow when i was reading this #since i realized he didn't actually have any named friends yet

[talesofesther]

Anchor - Part 13

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: Oh I know you guys have been waiting quite some time for this part, and I'm sorry it took me this long. But I really didn't have much time lately and I haven't been able to focus. But anyway, it's finally here, I truly hope you like it. And I have to say that the next part might take some extra time to be posted too, but don't worry, I won't stop writing ♥. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

The first rays of sun painted the sky and birds could already be heard from outside. The curtains from the open window flew with the slight breeze that was coming in. The cold air made Five snuggle just a tad closer to the comfortable warmth beside him.

About a minute passed before his sleepy brain realized what just happened. Five tensed even before opening his eyes. The boy took in the feeling of an arm holding him close, a hand clasped loosely around his own, and soft and steady breathing just beside him.

Five's eyes opened and his heart almost stopped. It took everything in him to not full-on panic right then and there. She was so close. Y/N was laying beside him, their noses just barely touching and she was holding him. Five felt the skin in his hand prickle. What happened last night? He couldn't remember, he knew he definitely didn't fall asleep like this.

The boy felt his breathing become ragged and anxious. He felt lost, scared even. He shouldn't be here. He wanted to, but shouldn't. Five closed his eyes and gulped trying to calm down, he never woke up having someone beside him. He analyzed Y/N's features for a moment, she looked so peaceful, so relaxed... So beautiful.

Five's expression softened, and he gently touched her nose with his. He would gladly wake up to this every morning if he could. He felt guilty for wishing that, but it was inevitable.

With the softest movements he could muster, Five freed himself from her grasp. His chest tightened in protest, telling him to go back to her.

Sitting up on the bed, Five looked at her. Bringing one of his hands up to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes, he lightly caressed her cheek and brought her blanket up to her shoulders to protect her from the cold. Five let out a long sigh as he buried his face in his shaky hands. Feeling a drop of wetness escape his eye.

He wanted to punch himself. For getting so attached to her, for letting his lonely heart fall for her. He tried to deny but it was impossible now. Five curled on himself, bringing his knees to his chest, he was desperate. He told himself he had no right to feel like this towards her, that it was wrong and he didn't even deserve it. And yet the feeling never left. Five's heart was already hers.

If someone told him before that he would fall in love with a girl like this, he would laugh, say it was impossible. But he didn't take into account how damaged he was, how much he needed affection. And when she gave it to him...

Five shook his head and chuckled. He didn't know what was worse. Realizing that he loved her, or the fact that she would never love him back.

Shame and guilt washed over him as Five wiped his eyes and got up from the bed. His chest hurt with every beat of his heart as he looked at Y/N's sleeping form.

______

Y/N's eyes opened not too long after Five left. The girl instantly felt the empty space beside her, stretching her hand on the mattress where Five should be. She cursed herself for being so tired and not hearing him leave.

Sitting up on the bed, she stretched herself and ran a hand through her messy hair. Looking out the window to the rising sun, Y/N assumed it was still kinda early in the morning.

After she went to the bathroom and fixed herself, she made her way to Elliott's kitchen, and could already hear people talking there.

"... We only have one option. It's time to get The Umbrella Academy back together" Five's voice echoed through the kitchen as Y/N reached the room and braced herself on the threshold.

Diego and Luther were sitting at the table, Luther was eating a very large plate of scrambled eggs. Elliot was just beside Y/N and Five was braced in the counter with a coffee mug in his hand. "Morning guys" Y/N's sleepy voice greeted them.

"Hey Y/N" Diego smiled at her.

"You're.." Luther started, pointing an unsure finger at the girl's direction.

"Y/N. Klaus's friend, remember?" The girl smiled at him.

"Right" the big man smiled back and put another spoonful of eggs into his mouth. "Hey, can one of you get Allison please?"

Diego's eyes widened at his brother as he leaned a bit closer. "You two still a thing?"

As the two talked, Y/N walked to the counter to grab herself a cup of coffee as well, which was just behind Five. The girl's eyes regarded him with certain insecurity behind them. Five was tense. For all she knew, he could be mad about what happened last night.

"Morning Five" Y/N gave him a half-smile when she stopped just in front of him.

He didn't meet her eyes, his fingers holding the mug started to go white. Five stepped aside so she could reach the coffee pot. "Y/N" was all he said.

Pouring coffee into her mug, Y/N bit her lip in nervousness. Holding the mug between both her hands, she turned to face Five noticing he was wearing his uniform again. For some reason that brought a tiny smile to her lips, and she reached out a hand to touch his arm, but he took a small step away from her.

Five clenched his jaw and tried not to show any emotions on his face, even if he was feeling a million of them. "I'll get Allison" The boy put his mug down and walked past Y/N like she wasn't even there.

"Can you uh- get Vanya without squeezing her to death?" He stopped and looked at Luther.

The big man gave him a humorless laugh. "I'll try"

Five just nodded and started to walk away.

"Five, I'll go with-" Y/N started, but before she could finish, Five was gone. The girl scoffed and closed her eyes with an annoyed smile on her face.

Diego smirked at Luther upon seeing what happened, but Luther only shot him a confused glare.

______

"I'm not eating that" Y/N whispered to Vanya. Them both, and Luther, were sitting beside each other on Elliott's couch. While Diego sat in an armchair as Elliott excitedly shared the story behind an ambrosia he had just made. But it looked more like some kind of gone wrong slime.

"If we have some will you shut up?" Diego said with a bored voice.

"Maybe" Elliott proceed to put some of his ambrosia in a bowl.

"How are you feeling?" Luther turned to Vanya.

"Pretty shitty to be honest"

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to... Ending all life on this planet?" Diego stepped in, turning a knife in his hand.

"Diego, stop with the knife, she's fine" Y/N complained.

"Last time I saw her she had me suspended mid-air, sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles" he continued to play with his knife. "I think I'm allowed a little time to process"

"I would like to see an energy tentacle" Elliott said, amazed.

"You wouldn't" Y/N whispered to him.

"I don't remember what I did, but I'm sorry... If that means anything" Vanya sat up straight and said with an honest voice.

"It does" Diego's expression softened all of a sudden. "I'm just going through a lot right now"

Before anyone could say anything else. The front door from downstairs was opened and they all could hear people talking coming in.

A sweet "hello?" Could be heard as Vanya, Diego, and Elliott got up and looked down at the new arrivals.

"Oh, I know this is impossible but... Did we all get sexier?" A shiver ran through Y/N's body as she heard her friend's voice, she got up so fast she almost got dizzy and ran to the railings to look down.

Five, Allison and... Klaus stood downstairs, looking up at them. Y/N could already feel tears welling up in her eyes. "Klaus?" She said almost out of breath.

Klaus's eyes met hers and his expression softened. "Y/N" his hand came up to his mouth and he slowly walked to the stairs.

"Oh my god" the girl said as she ran down the stairs as fast as she could to meet her friend, almost falling down in the process when she slipped in one of the steps.

Y/N threw herself at Klaus and clutched to him like her life depended on it. The tears now falling free from her eyes while she held the fabric of his shirt between her shaky fingers. "I missed you so much" the girl chuckled amongst her tears.

Klaus held her body against his just as tight. One hand on her back and the other holding her head in a comforting manner, he closed his eyes and buried his head on her shoulder. "I missed you too, so goddamn much" he smiled as his own eyes filled with salty wetness.

Five watched his brother and Y/N with curious eyes. Feeling a weird sensation in his chest upon seeing them both so... Close.

All the siblings greeted each other as well and also shared some curious looks, none of them has ever seen Klaus be so sentimental with someone.

Y/N pulled away from her friend but her hands remained on his chest as a means to make sure he wouldn't disappear. "I- I love your hair" the girl said with a big smile, admiring Klaus's new look.

"I love yours too" the man said as he used his thumbs to clean what was left of Y/N's tears and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Five's breath hitched when he saw that, he felt uncomfortable and had to look away. "Let's get down to business" he said and made his way upstairs.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. All opinions and feedback are appreciated ♥

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