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atlabeth · 23 hours

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dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.1k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake.

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point.

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel.

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there.

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always.

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.”

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?”

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.”

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.”

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says.

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes.

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says.

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.”

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs.

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.”

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.”

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file.

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene.

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house.

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt.

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control.

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics.

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it.

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything.

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect.

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.”

“What has he been charged for?”

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail four years ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs.

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind.

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive.

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.”

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh.

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising.

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock.

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford.

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.”

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?”

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?”

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says.

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…”

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house.

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all.

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub.

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.”

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there��s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?”

He nods. “I had a change of heart.”

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.”

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.”

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Charles area.”

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him.

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things:

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be.

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school.

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts.

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says.

You glower at him, but you stay silent.

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.”

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.”

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?”

You nod. “He lives with me.”

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

“Why is that?” Hotch asks.

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too.

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going.

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.”

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.”

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?”

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you.

“Really?”

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him.

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her.

And he didn’t even know when she died.

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad.

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went five years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says.

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb.

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.”

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.”

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even.

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.”

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.”

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.”

“Do you want them to?”

“...No.”

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.”

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.”

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.”

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says.

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.”

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.”

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door.

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again.

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up.

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?”

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.”

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.”

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case—

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.

You’ve changed a lot. So has he.

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him.

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind.

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!”

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.”

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts.

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief.

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe.

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused.

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss.

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.”

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.”

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses.

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once.

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck.

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on.

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity.

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs.

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air.

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger.

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it.

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing.

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people.

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong.

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you.

Because god— what are the odds?

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother?

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years.

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time.

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you.

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.”

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties.

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you.

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?”

“Not one for small talk,” you remark.

“I never have been.”

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.”

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now.

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face.

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.”

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.”

“And home is?”

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.”

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says.

“Sources can lie.”

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.”

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up.

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had.

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened.

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”

“None of those sound like questions,” you say.

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“You don’t know,” he repeats.

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I don’t ask questions.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it.”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.”

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?”

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“You didn’t tell him—”

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?”

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse.

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.”

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.”

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.”

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply.

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly.

“And you’re wrong, by the way.”

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken.

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.”

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you.

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.”

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.”

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.”

“...I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least.

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.”

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.”

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.”

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.”

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You know th—”

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.”

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.”

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file.

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking.

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.”

“The profile—”

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.”

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly.

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this.

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right.

You have to be right.

The room feels even colder.

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do.

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him.

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room.

“She does not like you.”

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie.

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.”

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands.

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor.

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.”

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.”

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him.

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him.

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things.

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.”

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again.

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.”

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.”

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.”

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation.

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.”

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego.

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.”

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside.

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch…

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore.

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you.

“They sent a new one in,” you say.

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual.

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off.

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation.

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time.

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks.

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks.

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says.

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet.

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong.

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier.

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once.

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron.

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s head as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard.

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you.

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round.

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed.

Aaron says your name, and you hum.

“Are you listening?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?”

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly.

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully.

Your eyes open and you frown.

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate.

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.”

“...Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.”

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?”

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron.

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction.

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up.

“Go for it,” you finally say.

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?”

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.”

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you.

“Thank you,” he says.

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.”

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything.

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand.

Sometimes you need reminders.

“I love you too.”

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.”

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs.

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third.

No one expected this to happen so soon.

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt.

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work.

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation.

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved.

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it.

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press.

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.”

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.”

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.”

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on.

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.”

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight.

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city.

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information.

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.”

“What are they?” Hotch asks.

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says.

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks.

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.”

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.”

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.”

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests.

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.”

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?”

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.”

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully.

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.”

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.

“And?” Hotch asks.

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.”

Hotch frowns. You?

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.”

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again.

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.”

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.”

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up.

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.”

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.”

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.”

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died five years ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail last year.”

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.”

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.”

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.”

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.”

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.”

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says.

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods.

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him.

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says.

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks.

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.”

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him.

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?”

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.”

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?”

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—”

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.”

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.”

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up.

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him.

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze.

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind.

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”

And he does.

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear.

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale.

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame.

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner.

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff.

Of course you have to deal with this now.

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down.

“You’re already packed.”

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning.

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask.

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks.

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?”

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.”

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit.

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him.

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?”

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head.

You take the box from him and smile thinly.

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open.

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.”

“They haven’t been back, have they?”

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail.

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests.

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.”

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops.

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff.

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.”

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit.

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” he says.

“That’s it,” you muse.

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up.

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.”

“...Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.”

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?”

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to.

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.”

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.”

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.”

“What have they said about me?” he asks.

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…”

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.”

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.”

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.”

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.”

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home.

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up.

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before.

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard.

Then, there’s nothing.

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is.

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at.

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims.

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters.

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that.

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him.

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that.

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?”

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.”

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.”

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching.

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up.

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night.

And now…

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not.

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?”

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it.

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.”

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly.

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him.

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words.

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why.

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes.

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs.

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze.

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.”

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.”

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body.

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life.

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.”

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.”

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?”

“...You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.”

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.”

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.”

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say.

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.”

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises.

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother had divorced him by then, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided.

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?”

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!”

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.”

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.”

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to.

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly.

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget.

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out.

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here.

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now.

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.”

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.”

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.”

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says.

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats.

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.”

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.”

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?”

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.”

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you.

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns.

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think.

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.”

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave.

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.”

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.”

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?”

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.”

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.”

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.”

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.”

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.”

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you.

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.”

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you.

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it.

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you.

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force.

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead.

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake.

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms.

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment.

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers.

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron.

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!”

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours.

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete.

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.”

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name.

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die.

You wake up in the hospital alone.

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you.

The real surprise is that you wake up at all.

Lucas is dead.

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded.

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real.

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life.

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day.

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all.

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life.

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind.

He was going to kill you.

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU.

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner.

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him.

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you.

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside.

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.”

“And how long have I been here?”

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.”

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask.

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…”

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.”

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?”

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start.

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.”

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.”

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!”

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—”

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same.

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper.

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life.

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues.

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number.

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.”

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner.

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.”

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together.

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.”

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.”

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit.

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.”

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.”

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out.

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume.

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.”

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down.

“Okay.”

And he stays.

This time, he stays.

#i was truly possessed while writing this i can't understand it #i wrote 15k words in 5 days #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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dyaz-stories · 6 hours

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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

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milkweedman · 2 days

Text

Lots of fleece things recently; trying not to move with old dye or raw fleeces so I've been using stuff up. Also I always get into a fleece fever in the spring

From top to bottom, left to right:

Shetland scrap (as in, my last little bit of that beautiful fleece) after avocado dye with copper mordant, drying. Happy to add some light pink to my naturally dyed shetland collection. I've got some updates for that too but I'll wait until I've spun all of the different colors probably.

Hampshire fleece in the avocado exhaust. I'm using some old bottled avocado dye from last year plus the bits of avocados I had from recently. It's still a very dark dyebath so I oughta be able to get at least another round of full dye before actually getting exhaust. I forgot how crazy potent the avocado dye was (cooked it down from about 1 gallon to a pint which is about 80% less volume if my completely wild guess is correct). Oops.

White: shetland x clun forest, drying. The green is more hampshire that I mordanted quite some time ago, forgot about, and recently found. I believe its copper mordant because it was very green already, but after dyeing with yellow hollyhock and yellow marigold it is even greener. I know it looks vaguely brown here, but it's a sort of khaki green

And then more shetland x clun forest. This is the first batch; I moved it to the bathroom drawer that's directly over a vent and thus very good for drying things. It's still wet though. The hampshire is dry already and I dyed it at the same time.... I'm chalking it up to more weirdness from this crossbreed sheep. I want it to dry already so I can sample some and see if it spins up weird too. I hope it's good as a yarn. The lack of stickiness in the fibers is really odd for what the parents were... kinda reminds me of karakul ? Idk, I'm sure it will be a little easier when it's dry.

#wool washing #natural dyeing #avocado #marigold #hollyhock #shetland #shetland x clun forest #hampshire

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blade-that-was-broken · 1 day

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Well there’s child that bites that’s Bruce jr I believe, there is the one that got stuck in the ketchup bottle that one is also real hyperactive so maybe HC those two as twins make em identical nightmare children. I saw a fanfic where one of Bruce’s kids was like super allergic and intolerant to practically everything which causes problems cause Bruce owns a restaurant. And of course there is anarchist daughter. You should definitely give Bruce and brandy at least one pair of twins or triplets to justify him eventually having like 8-9 kids by the time he’s like 40ish.

Thanks for the ideas! Since we basically know nothing about them and most of them I don't even think have names at this point (?) it can be kinda of difficult. Bruce was about 13 when their parents divorced and it has been about fifteen years so Bruce is only about 28 at this point. He's not done having kids but he's got several already.

"Those two are twins, Jr. likes to bite," Bruce grimaced a little as he showed John some pictures. Brandy insisted on driving back home, even though Bruce said he could do it. He wasn't sure what her game plan was but she wasn't taking no for an answer. John just silently looked at whatever Bruce showing him at any given time and didn't seem to mind the rant and chatter. "And his twin is really... hyperactive. I love them to death but wow, they are everywhere, you have no idea."

"I can probably fix the biting," John replied.

He'd been doing that, insisting he could help or fix things or whatever. Bruce really wasn't sure what to make of it. His first instinct had been thinking that John thought there was something wrong with his kid that needed to be fixed and that made him upset. Sure, Jr. shouldn't be biting and they would work on that but he wasn't some broken thing to be fixed.

John said everything so plainly and Bruce couldn't really determine his meaning.

But he kept telling himself that John wasn't exactly himself either. The doctors said he would probably come back to himself. He just didn't really know who his brother was anymore.

"Uh... this one is allergic to pretty much life in general, especially cats, for some reason?" he said, flipping through the photo. "Which is tough because out neighbor loves cats and well... he's been kind of taking a liking to them too."

"Feed him eggs from a farm with barn cats," John replied.

"Uh... what?"

John looked up at him and tilted his head a little. Bruce had to take a moment to take that in. Clay did the same thing. Geez, how was he going to tell everyone else? He'd figure that out later.

"Helps with allergies."

"Okay...? It can be difficult with the restaurant since there is a bunch of stuff he's allergic and intolerant of but we are working on a medication regiment. And he's not really supposed to be around the kitchen anyways," he continued, trying to keep things normal but his speech just kept getting quicker and more excited. "They are going to love you. They have always wanted an uncle living close by. I know technically you don't have to stay out here but it is the best and you have an in!"

"An... in?"

"Me!" Bruce nodded with a grin. "I can get you set up with a fantastic place when you are recovered, if you want. You can stay with us as long as you want, I just know a lot of people tend to be independent so I thought hey, maybe he'd want a little place on the beach or something instead but then again, we haven't really seen each other in..."

"Alright, honey," Brandy interrupted. "You are getting a little excited."

"Where else would he go? We are by far the most financially stable and it's Hawaii for heaven's sake. People would kill to live here. There can't possibly be anywhere better. He doesn't even have an address."

Brandy just shot him a slight glare in the rearview mirror.

"Uh, he's right... uhm about the address thing," John confessed. "If I needed to spend my leave off base, I usually just found a camping spot or stayed with one of my squad."

Brandy's face twisted into something interested and possibly mischievous. John wouldn't have been able to catch it but Bruce definitely could. "Oh! We would love to hear about them! You must be very close."

"We are," John shrugged, lightly. "Might as well be family at this point. Kinda curated an orphans, losers and runaways club. Or in my case, all three," he chuckled.

It was the first time Bruce heard any sound that could possibly be classified as vague amusement from John, although Bruce wasn't entirely sure if it was genuine. He knew one thing; he didn't really like the type of humor.

"Except for Chaz, he's just a fool," John snorted. "They wouldn't let me get rid of him."

"What about the others?"

"Dickory is one of the best. He's very cunning but you can count on him even in strange plans. Pete is retired, not that you'd ever know he was there in the first place. Barely said a word. We useta call him Growly Pete cause that's generally how he was."

Okay. Best friend. Crotchety old man. This was okay. This seemed normal.

"Tresillo... hasn't been with us long but he's shaping up to be a good kid. Needed some discipline but considering his parents weren't exactly in the picutre, I get where he's comin from. He's grown a lot in the time that he's been with us, we're really proud of him."

Brandy glanced at Bruce again. He knew what she was thinking.

He wasn't going to think about it.

"Anyone else?" she asked.

He listed off a few more. "And then... and then Delta."

"Oh! Who is Delta?" Brandy asked with a smile.

"She's mah girl."

His what?

"My partner in crime, the law, whatever you wanna call it," John replied, rubbing his arm and looking out the window. "Go-to gal, best friend, right hand man or I'm hers, whatever you got, it's us. By some miracle the military thought it best to keep us stationed together. She ain't crazy but probably a good choice on their part."

"So, I suppose we will be seeing her visit sometime?"

"I'll haveta call her sister and see what all happened after well, this," John shrugged. "But maybe. It used to be where you found one of us, you wouldn't find the other far behind. I dunno how that'll be now. Things are different, but uhm... I'm hopin' she''ll come around sometime.''

#ask #soldier on au #i lost a whole page sobs #so I don't really remember what JD said about Tresillo and Delta and had to start over #I'm really sad about it

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frenchfry99 · 4 months

Note

Waitttt....you said Lilly has a *honkable nose???*

.....

*Fnaf nose honk insert*

Lilly does the fnaf nose honk canon ‼️🎉

She's inviting you to join the clownery!

Do you accept the offer??

Bonus Lilly with a couple of her many friends! (lil one befriends anyone in sight)

Haven't drawn my Home design in ages,, he's such a silly fellow (as much as a house can be silly and fellow lol)

#didn't post here for ages oops-#looking at the calendar- it's winter already?? wishing you all to spend the holidays well!#probs gonna try to post some stuff during my winter break #fun fact the first two scribbles here are from like July-#funny how I haven't changed Lilly's design even a bit since then (though now I forget to draw her whiskers 💔💔)#because I love to change my characters looks like a bajillion times before showing them #maybe that's why most of them are still in drafts #talking about planned ocs- Barnaby reminds me of Lilly's parents a lot- perhaps I should draw them some time #funny big cats..#welcome home #welcome home oc #welcome home puppet show #original character #lilly silly wh #lilly silly #barnaby b beagle #welcome home fanart #oc #oh and home my beloved old man! tho in my ver he's more of a creature?? abstract being??#heehoo I love writing a whole essay in tags #the silly siblings wh

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catgirlknighted · 16 days

Text

Big Sister Confesses, a Special Siblings Day

God, where do I even start? My big sister Wendy has always been so beautiful ever since we met. Very physically affectionate, but she was like that with a lot of close friends; so, I thought nothing of it. I’m sure some of you remember glomping? I’ve certainly taken a tumble or two from her, but never fully fell. She was more gentle with me. At some point she kissed my cheek on my birthday & I thought nothing of her kiss, her doting on me, & being so close to me all the time throughout that day. She’s such a wonderful & charming person to have around, I appreciated every bit of affection.

As we became physically closer, I would kiss her cheek regularly and I began to see her as more than just my big sis, she is hot. I can’t deny it, my elder sister is a hot woman & we’re exchanging kisses on the reg. My cheeks get red at such a realization as it dawns on me. Her cute & pretty face always lighting up my day with that beautiful smile. Her pretty legs & thighs that I lay my head on while she runs her fingers through my hair & pets me softly at the public park. Hell, even her breasts & her ass are gorgeous & perfect, now I can’t stop ogling her in my mind. Golly gosh, her in that one piece swimsuit too when we first met, her soft skin, those hips & curves. Every inch of my big sis is heavenly & what if I could kiss her soft pink lips even just once or feel my tongue on hers? What would big sis Wendy taste like? My cheeks are so flushed at this point! Surely such indecent thoughts are weird though, I better repress this! She’s my big sister, she’d probably feel weird if I told her I was developing a crush on her!

For some time into young adulthood we remained as physically close as ever, regularly hanging out, even as I went to college. We made time for one another, Wendy & I. Outside of my closed relationship, Wendy was the most physically intimate relationship I had going on. We could talk to each other about anything too, even our relationship problems. At some point during those years I told her I was bigender & I felt like a girl sometimes. “You’re a very pretty girl.” We were walking & talking casually through her neighborhood & I froze up hearing those words from her in response to my coming out. Tears formed in my eyes & my cheeks reddened. Not only was I just affirmed on my femininity, but I was pretty to her. My big sister found me to be pretty? I nearly combusted on the spot despite trying to shove my gay thoughts to the back of my mind throughout these years with her. “Are you okay?” “Y-yeah, I just wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” “You’ll always be my little sibling regardless of gender & I love you.” “I love you too, big sis.” We hugged & I cried into her shoulder a bit, taking in her scent & embrace. Big sis smells so good & despite not glomping me, I think I’ve fallen this time. She’s the best big sister I could ever ask for & I’ve fallen in love with her. The best part is, we remained just as close as before I came out, if not closer. Soon enough I would see just to what extent that closeness would go.

My partner, Cassandra, at the time had at one point questioned our physical intimacy of kissing each other’s cheeks, hugging often, & snuggling when we’d all hang out together. I’d respond by affirming that we are just siblings & that’s all there is to it, besides, she’s in a relationship & I’m obviously taken by them. This would put that conversation to bed, but in the back of my mind my gay thoughts would chime “but she’s still hot though & what if we kissed while caressing one another?” These indecent thoughts of mine would start popping up more despite the fact that Wendy had a boyfriend. I even felt a little jealous of the boyfriend at times too, but would shove that to the back of my mind. I needed to be happy that my big sister is happy!

In an ironic twist, she was in fact very unhappy as I would get called by her crying to me, lamenting about how shitty her boyfriend was to her, sometime later on. I had consoled her & kept her company on the phone for a little while. They had broken up just yesterday & her birthday was coming up very soon, she didn’t want people to see her upset on her birthday. She asked for the first time in all our years knowing each other if she could come hang out at my house. I was surprised & I asked my parents if it was okay with them. We were given the green light by both our legal guardians to go ahead & hang out. It was impromptu but I put on some clean pants & underwear, couldn’t find a clean shirt, but she lived like 10 minutes away so there was no time for that! I had to be there for my big sis! I hurriedly put on a zip-up jacket since I can’t find any clean shirts. A few minutes later, she arrives & I give her a big hug as she enters the doorway. “Can we go somewhere private?” “Yeah of course, let’s go upstairs.”

We go upstairs & I whisper softly “you doing okay?” She says softly that she isn’t sure. We get to a couch & sit down together. I wrap one arm around her and she lays her head on my shoulder. I blush a little & find myself smiling, I kiss the top of her head & rest my cheek on her. “Hey sis, I’m sorry he hurt you.” “Thanks little bro or sis, he ended up being a real asshole.” “Yeah, guys can suck sometimes & ‘sis’ is good for today, thanks Wendy.” “No problem sis, hey, is it okay if I lay down on you? I was crying a lot today & I’m kinda tired.” I was so focused on being here for her that for a moment I lived in a world where my gay feelings didn’t exist, but damn if they sure didn’t flare up from the back of my mind at that very moment. It took all my willpower not to blush, this wasn’t the time for that! “Yeah, of course! Hell, you can even take a nap on me if you want!” “Thank you, I’m pretty drained...” “Of course, just happy to be here for you. Want me to lay down & then you lay on top of me? I’ll be like an anime body pillow or something.” A hint of a smile spreads across her lips & she nods. “You sure I won’t crush you?” “I’d be happy to have you crush me like a weighted blanket.” I giggle and smile at her & a smile in turn finds it’s way across her beautiful lips, she takes off her glasses & places them to the side. I lay down on the couch & she lays down on top of me, face-first into my chest as I rub her back softly & soothingly. “Hey Rose, can I tell you a secret?” “You can tell me anything Wendy, of course, lock & key or whatever the saying is.” “Okay well... I have a crush on someone.” “Already? You just broke up with what’s his name, that’s kinda fast. No hate, just that seems pretty quick.” “No, it’s not like that, I’ve had a crush on this person for a while.” “Oooooh juicyyy, well, whose the lucky guy or girl or whatever?” She then moves her beanie in front of her eyes & burrows her face fully into my chest to where I can’t see her eyes anymore. “Promise me you won’t judge me no matter what?” “Big sis, you know I love you, I won’t judge, I promise!”

“Well, good because... it’s... you.” I let out an audible gasp, looking down at her in shock. “I know you look at me as your big sister & I see you as my little brother or sister too, but I can’t help it I’ve always liked you & you’ve always been there for me.” She gets choked up & starts to sniffle while clutching onto my chest for comfort. “Y-y-you like me...? Y-you-your serious?” I’m still taking in this information, awestruck as to what I’m hearing & trying to process. “Please don’t judge me or be upset, I’m sorry! This is probably stupid!” She says while sobbing into my jacket. I rub her back soothingly. “No hey wait- wait no hey... hey, hold on... hey, look at me, Wendy.” “Don’t wanna.” “Please?” “I don’t want you to judge me or see me crying.” “I don’t mind you crying & I'm not going to judge you, I promise on my life, I just want you to be reassured so please at least let me see your eyes.” I move the top of her beanie up out her face to see her pretty eyes sparkling with tears. “I know I’m in a relationship & that’s why you probably feel weird or bad about confessing to me, but the truth is, I like you too big sis & I have for a long time.” “You don’t have to lie to me.” “I’m not lying, let me repeat this while I maintain unblinking eye contact with you so you know I'm for real about this, I like you, I’m crushing on you too & I have been for years. I’ve just been pushing it to the back of my mind because I was scared you’d think I was weird or gross since we’re siblings & stuff.” “So you’ve felt the same? But you’re in a relationship.” “A polyamorous relationship.” “Okay, but would I have to date Cassandra? I don’t like her like that, she’s pretty I mean no offense, but I only like you.” “I’m not sure? It’s something we’d have to talk about.” “Mmm...” “That being said though I’m glad we got this off our chests, I’ve been holding that in for soooo long & I’m sure you have too!” Wendy nods & smiles a little. She’s stopped crying at this point & is only sniffling on occasion. We cuddle in silence for a few minutes. She takes her beanie off at some point because she got too warm in it.

“Hey sis, you guys got to play truth or dare at that sleepover you had recently right?” “Yeah, did Jessy tell you about that?” “Yeah, I heard some wild stuff happened, but she kept it pretty hush hush.” “That’s good, she better keep that stuff a secret.” “Yeah, she’s a good friend, though it got me thinking sis, could we play it together, just the two of us?” “Yeah sure.” “Okay because I’m sad I couldn’t stay for the sleepover haha, I really wanted to!” “Well, maybe next time you come over we can do that; so, who should start?” “Um what do you think?” “You pick.” In my mind at that moment I suddenly remember our friend Jessy saying that one of the dares they all did together was flash each other’s chests all at the same time after closing their eyes for 30 seconds. “Okay, I’ll start then, sissy, truth or dare?” “Hm well you already got a lot of truths out of me today; so, dare.” “Haha fair enough, if you aren’t comfortable with my dare you don’t have to do it, okay?” “Okay, so what’s the dare?” “Well, given I never got to stay overnight, I dare you to flash your chest at me, I’ll close my eyes & you just tell me when you’re ready.” “I um... I’m not sure.” She’s looking at the floor now & has sat up, her cheeks turned pink. She puts her glasses back on, still not meeting my eyes. “Perfectly okay if you don’t want to Wendy; just let me know & I’ll think of a new one. I’ll also flash you my boobs if you’d like? If that would make you um more comfortable.” I’m now looking at a different spot on the floor & also sitting up, red in the face. I can tell through my blind spot that she glanced over at me to ponder her decision for a moment. “Hmm okay... well, I don’t want to lose in round one so um how about you close your eyes? I’ll tell you when to look.” “Um o-okay big sis!” I blurt out nervously before shutting my eyes & turning around to face the wall. Oh my god, I’m going to see my big sister’s breasts! Holy shit, holy fuck, I’ve only fantasized about what she looks like & occasionally touched myself thinking of her! My hands are shaking as I hear her messing with her shirt & bra behind me. She’s actually going to show me her boobs, this is a dream come true! Big sis Wendy’s boobs, oh my god! The anticipation is making my cheeks hot & making me wet.

I feel her tap my arm, round one is just getting started. “Y-you can um look now if you want to.” “Y-you’re sure it’s okay for me to, big sis?” “Y-yes I... want you to look, pl-please look.” “O-okay, gladly Wendy.” I turn around to see her with her bra on the floor next to her, sitting on the carpet, t-shirt rolled up, & her hands covering both of her boobs. I come over & sit in front of my sister. “So um what d-do you think?” She asks me shyly. “I think I’d like to see the whole thing if that’s okay, but so far I’m absolutely head over heals.” “Oh okay um p-please move my hands for me, I’m nervous.” “You’re sure sis? Just checking to make sure you’re okay with this before I proceed.” “Yes, I’m sure little sis.” “Okay.” I gulp nervously & place my hands on hers gently, rubbing the tops of her hands reassuredly before lightly moving them off of her breasts. “Woah Wendy, they’re beautiful, your breasts are absolutely perfect!” “Y-you think so? I don’t like my visible veins.” “Oh sis, you have absolutely nothing to be insecure about, your breasts are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, okay?” “O-okay thank you, I’m glad you like them so much.” “Like them? I love them much like I love you big sis! Every inch of you is sexy to me!” Her cheeks are so hot by now and she’s looking away shyly. Her breasts were the biggest & most beautiful I’ve ever seen, I was getting so wet & had a visible boner by now poking up through my jeans. I couldn’t stop starring at my big sister’s voluptuous breasts & her soft tummy peaking out from her jean short-shorts was like icing on the cake. I had fantasized about Wendy’s boobs, but the real deal was so much better! “Please keep them out for a bit longer big sis, I love seeing them but only if you’re comfortable. C-can I show you mine please?” I ask her. “I-if you want to little sis.” “I do, um you don’t have to close your eyes for this one I just w-want you to see my breasts, please sissy.” I unzip my jacket slowly, nothing on underneath & she’s watching me take out my breasts for her. My big sister is looking at my soft tummy & boobs, this just gets better & better. At this point my boner grows even bigger & is throbbing visibly as I’m sitting back against the back of the couch with my tits out for sis to ogle at. “W-what do you think of them?” I ask her shyly. “They’re very cute & pretty like you.” I blush so hard at those words & it makes me so happy to hear that!

She puts her shirt back down & comes over to sit right beside me, leaving the bra out which doesn’t help with my increasing gay thirst. “Now it’s my turn” she states, “truth or dare.” I look up at her, completely flustered, with my jacket still unzipped. She puts a hand on my leg & rubs my leg a bit. “Looks like you got a wet spot” she says, while looking down at my lap. “It’s um... because I got really excited looking at you, big sis.” “O-oh yeah you’re really wet then.” “Y-yeah... also dare.” I’m looking away, I can’t meet her eyes all embarrassed about how wet I am. “I... dare you to kiss me.” “K-kiss you?” I ask, absolutely flabbergasted. “Yeah... wherever you want.” “W-wherever I want?” “Mhm.” She lays her head on my shoulder & I ask if she’s sure. She nods. Me being a nervous wreck, I go for a forehead kiss initially, stop myself close to her face, & ask “actually, may I kiss your lips, Wendy?” “Y-yeah you can.” “You ever kiss a girl before?” “N-no, you’ll be my first.” I can't help but to grin playfully, I'm her first gay kiss! I’m nervous, we both are, but we both close our eyes & lean in, our lips collide & our hearts flutter upon impact. Our cheeks as pink as the skin on our lips as we taste one another, not letting go. My big sister‘s lips feel perfect on mine. We part but if only for a moment to open our eyes & stare at one another longingly. “Big sister, can I please kiss you more?” She nods & we kiss more, I suck on her lip a bit with the next set of kisses & my sister moans for me, gripping onto my jacket while we lock lips. “You like that Wendy?” “Yes.” I kiss her more while I wrap my arms around her lovingly. I love my older sister so much, she’s perfect & so fucking hot! We hold each other as our kisses begin to get a bit sloppy, our saliva trailing between our lips as we break from kissing.

This is like my fantasies come to life, my older sister’s pretty pink lips all over mine! “Let’s have a siblings day, just you & I, like this. I promise we can forget all about it when we’re done, if you want.” I told her at some point while we were making out. We both agreed to those conditions & to go all out, then keep it between us as siblings afterwards.

“Indecent” thoughts? I'm so silly! Seems we were both having them for quite some time! We both craved this sisterly love making! I’m running my fingers up her warm soft skin while I look at her longingly, t-shirts are great for feeling up my sister’s arms. We lean in to kiss each other more while I rub my fingers along her arms, up & down softly. This is the best way for me to bond with my big sister by kissing her & swapping spit with the girl who knows me best! I ran my fingers up her shoulder & lightly across her neck as I looked at her with the utmost desire. I giggle and say “I suppose it’s my turn again, sissy. Truth or dare?” Round two begins.

“Dare.” She says with a look in her eyes that tells me she wants so much more. I smirk & say “I dare you to keep your bra off & let me put my hands on your chest.” “O-okay.” “That okay with you Wendy? You can back out at any time, just a reminder.” “Yeah I know.” “Guess you aren’t trying to lose to me are you?” I grin at her & a big smile spreads across her flustered face in turn. This has become a little competition to see who taps out first? Challenge accepted! I slowly work my hands up to her shoulders. “You know, big sis, you could just tell me what you want.” “I-I’m not really sure what I want, this is my first time doing this stuff.” First time? I’m her first time?? Me? Once again, I feel like I’ll combust on the spot, but I maintain composure. “First time huh? Then we’ll just take our time & explore together.” I’ll be the first person to corrupt my big sister, what an honor. I slide my hand down onto her chest & press on her right breast. She withdraws a breath. I begin to caress her through her shirt, cupping her boob & rubbing it around. She lets out a soft gasp for me. “Wow big sis, you're so sensitive here! That feel good?” “Mhmm.” She moans softly as I squeeze her breast lightly and rub it around more. She’s looking up at me desperately like her mind is in a horny haze just from me rubbing one of her breasts through her shirt. This really must be her first time! Well, as her little sister, it’s now my duty to make some of her firsts are great ones! I use my other hand to grab her left breast, caressing it & rubbing it around lightly for her. Meanwhile I try something new on big sis and grab her left breast again, though this time I run my fingers across her until I find her hardened nipple poking through her shirt. Oh, this is going to be so much fun! I grab hold of her bosom & begin to tease my thumb across her erect nipple on the left side, she lets out a loud moan for me in turn. Sissy sounds so perfect too, so beautiful, like music to my ears! “Shhhh we can’t let my parents hear.” “I’ll try, but it's very sensitive and feels so good.” I smirk & tease her nipple with my thumb more, running it across over and over. Sis biting her lip as an attempt to try not to make any sounds. “Let me help you, sissy.” I start kissing sis on her lips as I move my hands into position & simultaneously tease both her nipples at the same time. I feel her body tense up as she moans into our kisses. I can feel her body reacting every time I press & rub across them, she really does have some sensitive nipples! I start to rub her them around faster & she breaks from the kissing to let out a nice moan just for me. “Ffffuck that feels so good.” “I know right & you’re being so brave for me, you’re doing so good for your little sis!” “T-thank you Rose.” “No problem, big sis!” I say as press on both her nipples really hard just to mess with her. “Mmm more gentle plllease” she says while moaning out for me. “Of course, sissy! Thank you for telling me!” “I don’t know how much I can take & I don’t want us to get caught.” “Yeah that’s fair.” I rub them lightly for her & she gasps.

“Now then Wendy, I did say I wanted to put my hands on your chest & I already have through your shirt, so may I reach under & feel them with my bare hands, if that's okay?” She nods & I try something new on her once again by leaning in to kiss her neck while I slide my hand up her leg to the hem of her t-shirt. I slip my fingers gently underneath the hem. Her soft tummy feels so warm & good on my hand, I caress her as I run my fingers up her body. The skin on her neck is just as soft & warm as I plant my lips on it. Gentle smooches landing like rain drops on her tanned skin. She lets out a quiet little moan for me & deposits a breath every time a smooch hits her beautiful neck. I think I’m in Heaven, never did I think I’d be doing such things with my hot older sister! She holds onto me as I work my fingers up to her chest. Oh my god, my hands are on now her boobs! Holy shit, holy fucking shit! They’re so soft & squishy! Those perfect & voluptuous breasts are being squeezed between my fingers! She makes more lovely little sounds for me as I press on, rub around, squish, & squeeze her tits. All the while I lightly suck on her neck & lick it, planting little kisses up & down my sister’s beautiful neck. Now that I think about it, why don’t I just bite her neck at least once while we’re here. She clenches onto me as I bite her softly, letting out a nice audible moan for me once more. Big sis Wendy makes the best noises I’ve ever heard! “Wendy, your breasts feel so good in my hands. They’re the best! Are you okay? I hope I didn’t bite too hard sis.” “I-I’m glad & yes, but maybe be a bit more gentle with the next bite.” “I can do that, thank you for telling me.” She seemed to be in a horny haze mentally; but as long as she gave me the okay I would pleasure my big sister & show her something incredible before her birthday! I must cheer her up! She just kept looking at me with those longing eyes; so I bit her neck again but softer & in a different spot. She gasped & gripped me hard again. I continued to caress & fondle her big beautiful breasts under her shirt, they feel so good to squish & play with! I started teasing her nipples too, just like before, but this time skin-to-skin & I knew kissing her would deafen her beautiful noises. As much as I longed to hear her symphony of sounds, getting caught wasn’t an option! I teased her nipples with my thumbs as I kissed her soft lips. Such perfect nipples, so soft & warm in my hands. Every part of my big sis is perfect!

“I think it’s my turn, little sis.” “Your turn?” “Y-yeah, truth or dare?” I stop fondling my big sis for a moment & grin, “dare.” “I dare you to let me sit on your lap.” My lap?? My face heats up. My hands are all up on this girl’s boobs, but her sitting on my lap? Once again, I’m extremely flustered & my cheeks are hot! She was gonna feel how hard I am underneath her. My ladyboner was gonna be a dead give away for how turned on I was if it wasn’t obvious already. “Oh uh okay sis, yeah let’s do it!” I slide my hands off & sit against the back of the couch. I was about to feel her ass on my lap. I'm Instantly more throbby as she sits down on my lap, back towards me. Her ass in those short-shorts is so perfect, holy shit. My sister has a perfect butt and it’s now sitting right on my cock! I’m freaking out internally, but externally I hug her from behind & kiss the back of her neck between her pigtails. “Oh sis, your neck is so kissable.” I kiss the back of her neck more as I reach a hand up under her shirt to fondle her tits more. Cupping, squishing, rubbing, & squeezing her beautiful breasts with her squirming, aroused on my lap. She gasps & moans for me, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this together! I can’t believe I’m fondling my big sis, hearing her, & seeing her like this! I take a whiff of her scent & whisper “You’re being so good for me, big sis.” She whimpers from my praise. I lift up the back of her shirt & kiss up her pretty back while running my fingers across her bare skin. She’s so perfect! I’m reaching my hands around to caress her stomach too, she’s so soft & warm, I just wanna feel her up everywhere! I go for her legs & rub my hands upwards towards the hem of her short-shorts, caressing her inner thighs with my fingers. She lets out soft breaths & gasps throughout & it’s absolutely delightful! I slide my hands back up & tease her pretty pink nipples between my fingers, rubbing them in circular motions. She gasps again & whimpers for me. I giggle, taking pleasure in her sounds in response to my touches & my lips on her back. “P-please don’t stop, that feels good.” “Good girl for telling me, that’s what I like to hear! Can I try pulling on them for you.” “Yes, just be gentle.” “Of course, sissy!” I pinch her nipples lightly between my fingers & grab them softly. Oooh that elicited quite the verbal reaction, how nice. Let’s try this then! I pull on her nipples lightly & tug on them a little. A loud moan escapes big sister’s mouth as she leans forward. I’m so fucking wet & hard! “Are you two okay up there?” One of my parents ask, creating panic in both of us for a moment, but I use my tone faking skills I’ve developed over the years to keep us safe. “Yeah, it’s just been a while since I stretched & my back felt so good, sorry about that!” I said & they never came upstairs to check on us thankfully, so they must have bought it. I playfully pull my sister’s nipples again, she’s covering her own mouth this time & I twist them lightly for her. She grunts & moans into her hand. Big sis is such a good girl! “You okay, Wendy?” “Mhm.” She uncovers her mouth and looks back at me, breathing heavily & nodding. It was time for round 3 to start!

“Hmm you know, big sis, I think it’s my turn now. Truth or dare.” “Dare.” “I dare you to let me taste your boobs, I want to lick them & suck on them for you.” “O-okay, but how will you do that with me on your lap?” “Turn around for me & sit on my lap facing me instead, I’ll show you.” “Okay.” She nods before standing up, turning around, & sitting on my lap facing me.She’s looking at me with those pretty bedroom eyes that tell me she craves her little sister. I take my glasses off & set them aside, meeting her bedroom eyes with my own. “Good girl, Wendy!” I grab her ass & back from behind to keep her from falling off my lap & bury my face in her bare breasts. She lets out a small breath in response. I rub my face in between them, taking in her scent & feel. Her cleavage smells so good! My big sister is the best! “Wendy, your boobs feel so good on my face, thank you, now for something more enjoyable for you sis!” I plant little kisses on her boobs & in turn hear little whimpers & gasps from her. Gods, I love this so much! I stick my tongue out & rub my face around in her bosoms, licking them all over as she lets out more breaths in response. I then focus my area of tasting & lick her nipples slowly, hearing her gasp as I swirl my tongue around them. I flick them with my tongue & every time, without fail, her body & vocals react to me. Big sister tastes so good! “Mmm sissy, you taste so good! I’m gonna suck on them now, okay?” She nods & wraps her arms around me gently. I support her back in my hands as as I lean down & start sucking on her left tit. She moans & gasps for me as I suck on her breast, grabbing hold of my jacket with both arms wrapped around me. I begin to suck harder on her nipple & swirl my tongue around it too, her grip on me tightens & she whimpers & moans softly, music to my ears with every noise my big sister makes. She’s so beautiful & makes such beautiful sounds, how fitting! I stop & start sucking on her right breast, right on the nipple, while I use one hand to reach up & play with her already sensitive left breast. Can’t leave either of them unattended, my sister deserves only the best! She squeaks out a loud moan despite trying to hold it in, how lovely! I’m getting so fucking wet & hard beneath her, I’m sure she can tell. Surely she can feel me poking her? She must not mind feeling me throb for her. What a lovely big sister! She’s so good to me! I start licking, sucking, & taking turns doing so to both of her voluptuous breasts, I just can’t get enough! Her grunts & gasps, her back arching into my hands as she reacts to my mouth on her. Everything about my older sister is divine! I stop & check in on her again. “How are you feeling, big sis?” “Good.” “That’s good, I’m glad, cutie!” She’s looking at me longingly for more like she wants me for dinner! The lustful look in her eyes as we make eye contact makes me throb even harder beneath her, creating even more of a wet spot on my jeans. As if I wasn’t soaked enough already! “Little sister, I think it’s my turn now.”

“O-oh yes right, of course.” She leans onto me & kisses my lips suddenly, passionately, her arms wrapped around my shoulders. “G-go ahead, sorry, I just really missed this. Truth or dare?” I rub her back and kiss her lips now for a good minute or so, taking in the taste & feel of her soft pink lips once again. “Nothing to be sorry about sis, your kisses are amazing! As for truth or dare though hmmm...” she suddenly kisses me more & sucks on my lip, I moan into our kissing. She then slips her tongue onto mine & I grip her hard as we keep going. Big sis & I are swapping spit just like I dreamt about all those years ago! Her soft wet tongue feels just as perfect as I thought it would! I’m so fucking wet & hard, holy shit this is amazing! I reach up under her shirt & caress her bare back, running my nails along her soft warm skin lightly. We both pull away for a moment with spit trailing between our mouths & chins, breathing hard & longing for each other like animals ready to mate. “Okay, this time for real. Truth or dare?” she asks me. “You know my answer, you hottie.” I say, smirking playfully. “I-I dare you to let me feel your cock. I want it, I want to feel it please!” My soul nearly left my body on the spot, she wants my girldick, holy shit!! My face is as molten hot as a volcano! “Y-you w-want to f-feel my cock?” I ask her, flabbergasted & the most flustered I’ve ever been in my life up to that point. She nods, affirming that she did in fact ask to feel my dick. “W-well big sis u-um h-how do you wan-want to um feel it?” She shrugs. “I just want to.” “You just want my cock really bad?” Her cheeks get absolutely flushed & she nods shyly. I take a deep breath, okay, this is her first time & she’s a little uncertain, what should we do? “O-okay let’s um- h-how about you uh take one of your hands and um put it on my lap?” She nods shyly, pulls her shirt down, & gets off my lap to sit right beside me on the couch, laying her head against mine softly. I move one of her pigtails out the way & kiss her cheek. She was so warm in the face & hasn’t touched me yet. “It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to if don’t want to, okay?” She nods & then nervously places her hand onto my lap, her cheeks a bright pink. “Down a little more, dear sister.” She nods again & slides her hand down until she gets right onto my bulging hard-on. “Oooh fuck.” I moan out for her, gripping onto the couch tightly with my hands at my side. She curls her fingers in a bit, essentially wrapping them around my cock through my jeans. I whimper a little, I'm so sensitive! Oh my god, my big sister is touching my cock! This is the best day ever! “W-Wendy your hand feels good right there!” She starts to rub on it softly with her fingers, up & down through the fabric, it takes everything in me not to be too loud & get us caught! I, her little sister of many years, was now singing a symphony just for her! I lean into her ear & whisper quietly through my gasps & moans, begging her “mm f-fuck Wendy p-please don’t stop, it feels so good!” She nods & starts rubbing my cock faster & having now applied more pressure. I grip onto her with one hand, moaning & gasping into her ear. “W-Wendy, your pretty good at this for your first time.” “T-thanks.” Her beautiful hands feel & look so good rubbing me through my jeans. “Heheh no problem big sis. May I do another?” “Sure.” Round 4 was starting since we just couldn’t keep our hands off each other!

“Truth or dare.” “Dare.” “I dare you to take that hand of yours & touch my ladyboner through my underwear.” “O-okay.” I slide my jeans down & my throbbing wet member pops out via my boxers, a big wet spot right on the tip. “It’s really wet.” “Yeahhh because of you sis! Again, you don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” “I’ll touch it above there then.” “Sounds good to me, whatever you’re comfy with!” She slides her hand across my underwear & I gasp, already feeling her close makes it throb even more. Even just the anticipation is killing me! She gets to below my tip where the surface area is still dry & starts to caress & rub my cock around with her fingers. Oooooh fuck this feels so good! Sister’s hands feel so good on my cock, holy fuck. If this is wrong then I never wanna be right! I stick part of my still unzipped jacket in my mouth to deafen my verbal reactions. She stops rubbing & looks at me concerned. “You okay?” I stop biting the jacket & giggle, blushing & smiling at her. “Yes, I’m okay, it’s just your touch feels so good & I don’t want us to get caught. No worries, please keep going.” “Oh okay.” She’s blushing so much & smiles shyly before she starts rubbing my shaft again, stroking it up & down now through the fabric. She’s got her whole hand around it now, holy shit. I bite down on my jacket, but I’m still moaning through it & she can tell how good I feel as she starts stroking me faster. Ooooh fuck, big sister pleaseeee! Your hand feels too good!! My precum starts getting everywhere & she keeps stroking my dick despite it getting all over her hands. I’m getting so soaked from my sister that the fabric of my boxers is making sopping wet noises as she jacks me off! I’m looking up into her eyes like the needy little girl I am. I love big sis Wendy so much! She’s doing so good jacking her little sister off! I let go of my jacket, whimpering & moaning softly, I need her, I need my sissy! “Oooh fuck Wendyyyy mmmm feels so good ffffuckkkk!” “Heheh I’m glad!” She jacks me off more & more, not stopping. I’m really bringing out the pervert in my big sister, she doesn’t even care that I’m getting her hand all wet as opposed to earlier. She must love that I’m making all this juice just for her! What a naughty older sister, I love that!

“My hand is getting tired.” “Okay well, that’s okay, let’s change my dare for you then. I dare you to show me your panties & then let’s try something special together.” “Okay.” She nods & moves her hand off my cock. My boxers are absolutely soaked all over! “Um what should I do about all this?” My face turns bright pink as she shows me all the precum on her hands, her palm & fingers are coated with it! “Uh umm well, there’s no napkins up here or towels so uhhhh just use my jacket, it’s black & it’ll dry quickly so no one will notice!” “Okay!” She wipes all the precum onto my jacket & I giggle, a bit embarrassed by my mess. “Sorry about that, I didn’t expect you to get so into it & you made me super wet.” “That’s okay little sis.” She’s smiling at me with rosey red cheeks & climbs onto my lap. We kiss once more, arms wrapped around one another, both smiling into the embrace of our lips. We’re so in sync right now, it’s incredible! I love Wendy! “So um you just wanna see them?” “Yeah, I wanna see what my big sister’s got going on, your butt too maybe if that’s okay!” “Okay.”

Not so much as a few hours ago I never would have thought I’d be seeing my older sister unbuttoning her jean shorts in right front of me, on my lap no less! I can’t help but bite my lip as I watch her hands work at the buttons. “So what was the thing you wanted to try with me?” “Well, I wasn’t gonna put it inside or anything as that’s kinda risky & I’m not sure if either of us brought condoms & I don’t know your comfort levels since this is all new to you aaaand I’m over explaining! Anyway um... I wanted to try f-fucking you t-through our clothes like from behind.” “Dry humping?” “Y-yeah!” “Okay, well let me show you my underwear first.” “O-okay!” She slides the tops of her shorts down a bit revealing Batman panties.“W-wow sis those are really pretty on you!” “T-thanks, I just kinda threw these on before I left.” “Y-yeah no problem! You look really good in them!” We’re both awkward blushing messes trying to keep our composure for whatever reason. She was above me looking down at me with her panties out, I felt like I was in Heaven & looking at the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen!

I wasn’t good at handling silence back then as I always felt I needed to fill up that space so I moved on saying “well, why don’t I try dry humping you?” “Okay, so; um... where do you want me to be?” “I’ll help show you, get off my lap first though. Not that I don’t love you being on top of me heheh!” She blushes, climbs off my lap, & sits beside me. “Okay so keep those shorts unbuttoned, now go ahead & bend over on the couch for me, sis.” “On the back of the couch or on the floor?” “On the floor so we don’t get caught, the couch will hide us.” “Okay.” She gets on her knees & leans her upper body on the couch. I sit on the floor & caress her voluptuous ass with both hands, give it a little squeeze. I hear her let out a little gasp. “Good girl, Wendy!” “Thank you.” I can hear the desire in the thanks she gave. Her craving tone, big sis wants me so bad. I lovingly kiss her ass before I get on my knees & press my body up against hers. I reach my hands down & hold her hips, caressing her in both my hands. I rub my right hand under her shirt & up her back, feeling her soft warm skin. God, she’s so beautiful, even bent over in front of me like this. My older sister’s soft sides are gorgeous too & such grabbable hips, perfect for holding! “You ready, sissy?” “Mhm.” She nods & I grab a good hold of both her hips & I start thrusting into her ass. “Mmm!” She moans out for me & grunts with each thrust. The skin of her beautiful legs vibrating every time I collide with her, her pig tails bouncing around lightly. Big sis makes the best noises! I start thrusting harder & faster into her & she uses one hand to stifle her sounds. I wish she wouldn’t, but I know for both our sakes that she must! “May I slide your shorts down now?” “Okay, just not all the way.” “Is it okay if I slide them down enough to see your butt?” “Um y-yeah.” “Are you sure? I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable.” She turns her face to look me in my eyes & says “I’m sure, it’s fine.” We’ve built up so much trust over the years that I knew she was telling the truth. I slide her shorts down more to where I can see her beautiful butt & I caress her sweet ass with both hands. I tease one thumb slightly under the waistband of her panties, running my finger along her bare butt & onto her butt crack, I rub there affectionately, wanting to tease her a bit, “good girl Wendy.” She moaned in response to feeling my touch against her bare skin, I take my thumb out of her undies & lightly pat her butt. “Your butt is absolutely perfect & so beautiful Wendy.” “Thank you.” “My pleasure dear, now is it okay if my underwear touches yours?” “Yeah.” “Okay, it’s only fair I expose mine to you too, heheh!” “Heh yeahh.” I slide my jeans down to where my underwear is fully exposed & press my wet throbbing member right up against her ass. She lets out a soft little whimper. “You feel how hard I am?” I ask in response to her sounds. “Y-yeah kinda.” “Alright let me make sure you feel it even more then.” I reach down & adjust my cock’s direction to slide in as deep as it can into her panty-covered backside & press myself as close onto her as I can. She moans lightly. “Oh yeah, now you feel it don’t ya, sis? You ready for me?” “Mm yeah I’m ready.” I grab a good hold of my sister’s hips again & start thrusting my cock into her. She whimpers louder & I start pumping it into her panty-covered ass faster. Her ass bouncing as I collide with her, my cock rubbing against her somewhere between her butt & her pussy. She’s loving it, gripping the couch tight as my boner rocks into her. My cock feels so warm pressing into her here, holy shit it feels so good! Even I have to stifle my own noises from how good this feels! My older sisters body is so perfect, I can’t get enough! At some point I’m just rubbing my cock up against her buttocks as it loses it’s initial position, but it feels so good up against her ass!

“Hey can we stop?” I was surprised, but alright. “Yeah, of course!” She pulls up her shorts & buttons them up. I pull up my jeans in turn. “Wait, you don’t have to... um I have an idea I wanna try.” My face instantly heats up again. I’m so gay for her, holy shit! “Oh? What’s your idea?” I’m surprised she’s taking the reins of our little homoerotic dance now. “Lay down on the couch for me.” WHAT did she just say? “L-lay down? W-where at?” “Against the back of the couch as low & far back as you can.” She’s um really taking initiative huh? Well, who am I to say no? She clearly has an idea she’s invested in trying & I’d love to indulge my big sister’s whimsies! Though she’s so much more innocent than me seemingly so I wonder what she’s thinking of trying... hmm. “Yes ma’am! Your wish is my command, big sis!” I smile at her & she’s smiling back at me with flushed cheeks. I lay back against the back of the couch with only my head tilted up a bit against the back of it. She takes off her glasses & places them on a side shelf this time. “I’m good for whatever you want to try so just go for it, alright? Surprise me!” I’m sure that whatever she wants to try, I’ve already done with Cassandra before; so, it’s not like it’ll be anything I wouldn’t be used to already. She suddenly climbs up on top of me & pins my wrists down! Oh, she’s taking full initiative! Cassandra never does anything like this. I’m... speechless! All I can mutter out is an, “oh!” while my cheeks become the hottest they’ve ever been! “You okay?” “Y-y-y-yeahhh... please continue, I’m just surprised!” Her knees are at my sides, her ass is on my cock, & I’m pinned down unable to escape my older sisters clutches, just how I like it!I’ve never had anything like this happen before!It figures that one of the most physically affectionate women in my life would be so assertive in the bedroom. I just had to get her out of her shell. Now the beast has gone wild & I had no idea what was next! “Good.” She starts grinding her crotch softly & slowly on my bulge! I whimper & moan, “mmm ooooh fuck!” quietly as to not get us caught. Upon hearing that, she grins & starts rubbing herself on my dick even faster, she’s grunting & gasping too while looking down at me. I can’t escape & she’s rubbing herself on my cock, I think I might just explode! My older sister is the best! Fuck oh fuck her crotch is getting so warm too, holy shit! Warm & damp on my cock! She must be super wet if I can feel this through her panties & short-shorts! “Oh fuck fuck fuck Wendyyy, that’s it beautiful, oh fuck oh fuck I love you so much big sister!” She manages to utter out an “I love you too little sister” while losing herself in pleasure. Rocking forward & back on me, she’s so good at this! She’s using me like a fucking sex toy & I’m the little perverted sister who loves it! Oooh fuck her crotch feels amazing! I’m in heaven, I must be because she’s a fucking angel! Her crotch perfectly shaped & rubbing on my cock through both of our pants just feels so fucking incredible! Her warm damp crotch only making me harder & bigger for her to get herself off on. Her breasts swaying beneath her shirt, her thick legs rubbing against me too. Her eyes lustful & longing, looking at me as she fucks her clit on my dick. Her soft little moans & whimpers. This is so fucking perfect! She leans down & kisses my lips while rubbing her clit on me. Fuck I’m tasting my big sister while she fucks her clit on my dick! She slips her tongue into my mouth & I’m moaning, whimpering desperately into our kisses. She’s a goddess! She pulls away & her spit falls onto my chin. She’s looking down on me once more while getting her clit off against my bulge. She’s riding me, frotting with me. My own big sister fucking herself on me & here I thought I was the one having "indecent" thoughts all those years ago! This is a dream come true! “Mmm fuck sis can you show me your boobs again please?” “Sure.” She takes them out quickly & continues desperately frotting against my cock, her beautiful breasts swaying as she rides me. Fuckkk she’s so hot!

She folds her legs up & is just sitting on me now, her hands on my breasts for support. She’s riding me up high now & I can see her beautiful boobs so much easier. I reach up & fondle her while she rubs herself against me. She lets out a loud moan, but no one seems to notice so squeeze them & she stifles out another loud moan. She’s so cute & hot, holy shit! Big sis is riding me like I’m her personal dildo & I would gladly be her toy any day of the week if this is what that entails! I flick her nipples while she rocks back & forth on my cock. She gasps loudly. I then pull them a bit & she ceases up for a moment, covering her mouth & letting out a long moan into her hand. “Heheh my bad sis, maybe that one was a bit much.” “No it’s okay!” She leans back down & kisses my lips, our boobs pressed together, as she continues to ride me relentlessly! This is her first time & she’s made me her personal sex toy! This girl is wild & I love it! I reach around & grab her ass with one hand, squeezing & caressing it, & rub her cheek softly with the other as we kiss sloppily. I slide my hand beneath her pants & panties grabbing her bare ass as we start tongue kissing. She moans loudly into our kissing, but doesn’t stop; so, I just keep a hold of her like that & help push her rocking motions on my cock. So many wonderful touches & tastes all at once! If we weren’t worried about getting caught, I’m sure she could have overstimulated me & I would thank her for it! She’s so flexible too, riding me with full force like this, legs up, ass down! My big sister is amazing in all ways! “I-I think I’m starting to feel something!” “Good girl Wendy, chase that feeling!” She nods. She starts rubbing herself against my cock faster & harder, rolling her head back as the pleasure overtakes her whole body! “There you go there you go, that’s it! Keep it up! Good girl!” Oh fuck I’m staring to feel something too actually, I think I’m gonna climax soon just from my sister’s clothed crotch! I gotta wait until she does though, that way she can use my big hard dick as her toy! Her head is rolled back & she’s moaning out just for me! This is so hot! She’s practically pumping my dick with the warm damp crotch area of her pants & her weight combined! I grab onto her ass with both hands now & rocking her back & forth, helping her clit get rocked even harder against my girldick! She’s rocking against me so good! Doing such a good job! “Oh oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck!” she sputters out, it seems like she’s getting close! I can’t believe I’m gonna make my big sister orgasm from frotting! That’s it, ride your little sister’s cock like a good girl! This is what little sisters are for after all! This is my purpose as your younger sibling, I’m meant to pleasure you! I can feel her riding desperately, I’m rocking her ass back & forth as best as I can! We can do this! Such a desperate needy girl, I never knew this side of her! I feel her tense up on my cock for a moment & then she’s catching her breath on me.

“Hey, you okay, sissy?” “Yeah I just felt so good, it all felt so good.” “Awww, good girl! I’m glad dear.” “Did you cum yet, little sis?” “No, not quite yet, but you certainly got me close!” “Okay.” She puts her hands back on my chest & starts grinding on my cock super hard & fast! She has a second wind?!? “This feel good, little sis?” “mmmmf fffffuckk yes yes yes yes!” I’m moaning out for her desperately! “I love you big sister!” “I love you too!” “You wanna make me cum that bad?” “Hhh fuck of course I do!” She leans down & starts kissing my neck & licking it whilst riding me & flicks my nipples, teasing them with her fingers & even going so far as to lick them & suck them while putting all this pressure & movement on my cock! Her damp wet crotch rubbing up on me, making me so so neeedy ffffuck! She takes her boobs back out for me to see, knowing how much I enjoy seeing them. They’re swaying with her as she rides me so good! Oooooh fuck big sis is so sexy, I’m getting close hhh fuck!!! She’s grinding as fierce as she was before, her crotch pumping my cock through my jeans! “Good girl good girl good girl that’s it, just like that don’t fucking stop!” Oh my god oh my god I’m gonna- fffuckkk I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum ffffuck she’s riding me so hard, her pigtails hit my face at some point & hair got in my mouth, but she feels so good on me that I don’t care, I’m moaning out for her. I need my sis I need her I need herrr! I’m gonna cum for my big sis! I’m gonna fucking cum for my older sister ffffffuuuuuuckkkkk! I can barely keep a hold of her ass she’s making me feel too good! I suddenly cum so much as she rides me some more! I let out a long moan for my big sis Wendy, looking up into her eyes desperately as she milks my cock! Hhhhh fuckkkkk! I’m catching my breath now, “I love you so much Wendy.” “I love you too Rose.” “Let’s lay down big sister, you did a great job making me cum & I hope I got to make you cum too.” “I don’t know if I did or not since this was my first time, but thank you little sis.” “My pleasure.” We kiss each other a few times & sit up for a bit against the couch together. She gets up to put her beanie back on, her glasses, & her bra as well before coming to sit back down with me, bringing my glasses over too. I put them back on before I wrap my arm around her shoulder & she rests her cheek on me. “So Wendy, for your first time, how was it.” “It felt so good.” “God, I’m so glad & I know right! Pretty amazing huh?” “Mhm!” “You’re an amazing older sister, you know that?” “Well, you’re an amazing younger sibling!” “Aw shucks, we’re both pretty great, aren’t we? Though I will say I was pleasantly surprised with the way you took charge during that last bit. You really know how to get a girl going!” “Thank you.” She turns her head away a bit shyly. She’s so cute when she’s shy like that. “You know for someone who was telling me not too long ago that you weren’t sure if you were bisexual or straight, you sure just did have your first real sexual experience with a woman. That’s kinda gay!” “Heheh yeah, I guess I am bi after all!” “That’s the spirit, welcome to the gay club, haha!” She goes to the bathroom to clean up & stuffs some toilet paper into her undies to avoid a yeast infection since she didn’t bring a change of clothes with her. When she came back she told me “you know that thing I felt earlier was probably me cumming because when I looked, I was soaked!” “Aww yay, well, I’m glad I could help do that for you & help cheer you up a little bit today sis!” I was so happy that I could help her reach orgasm & seemingly one of her first orgasms at that! It was such an honor! I’m such a good little sister! I quickly & quietly snatched some underwear from my room & changed into that, but I had no other blue jeans so for the entire rest of the visit I had to keep my jacket covering my crotch by having my hands in my pockets if I went anywhere else in the house. I was stuck with the mess my big sister made me create that had leaked through my boxers. How lewd!

“Wait, which one of us won Truth or Dare?” Wendy asked. “I think we're far beyond Truth or Dare at this point big sis, heheheh, but let's say we both won today! I lost track honestly!” I smile at big sis & hold her hand. “Heheh! Yeah same, it was really fun though!”

“I love you, big sis Wendy.”

“I love you too little sis.”

We cuddle quietly for a bit & she ends up falling asleep on my chest for 30-60 minutes. I kept rubbing her back soothingly until she passed out. She’s so pretty when she’s asleep; so at peace, I love her so much. I never want this moment to end. Her mom arrives to come pick her up gives her 20 minutes to wrap things up. We kiss a bunch, a little lip sucking, a little tongue, and cheek caressing tenderly. We both wished this could happen more often, that this could last outside of today, but it would complicate things for all of us. Cassandra probably wouldn’t like it either & so we hugged & didn’t let go for a whole minute or so. “Back to normal I guess, huh sis?” We both sigh & look at one another. “Yeahh, but that was nice.” “It sure was Wendy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forget.” “That’s okay, I’m not sure if I will either.” There was a bittersweet energy in the air between us; we both got a bit teary eyed, but neither of us regretted a thing. We kept it our little secret from Cassandra, Jessy, & everyone else.

A week later it was birthday bash time! A hang out at my big sister’s place, I was one of the first people invited apparently! Now’s the time to act normal, we just fucked like a week ago, but it’ll be okay! Just play it cool. As I got there I was welcomed with open arms by Wendy & she squeezed me tight, I squeezed her tightly in return. “You doing okay sis?” “Yeah, you?” “Yeah!” We smiled at each other & exchanged a knowing bittersweet look in that moment, we both remembered everything that went down on that special impromptu siblings day, but we couldn’t say it. Not in front of all these people. Not in front of my parents or hers. Not when Cassandra was also invited along with a few others. She held my hand & brought me into the living room where everyone else was & for a moment I lit up once more. I was hers again, the target of her affection, if only for a fleeting moment. I wonder if she felt the same for those few seconds. The party was amazing, Cassandra showed up & sat in my lap. Wendy playfully sat in Cassandra’s lap for a minute much to Cassandra’s surprise “woah Wendy-.” Was there any meaning to that or was it just Wendy being Wendy? We’ll never know. Then everyone else proceeded to try & join in on the lap sitting sandwich & they all fell over except Cassandra and myself. Back to normalcy I guess. Then the funniest thing happened late into the night near when the party ended & Wendy was in the bathroom. Jessy pulled me aside into Wendy’s room with her other friend Laurel asked me like, “hey you hung out with Wendy most recently & you see her often, do you think she’s straight or bisexual?” The entire gay sex scenario that we just had a week ago flashed back through my mind at light speed & I just stared at the floor for a few seconds. Wow, this is the worst possible question! “Hmm you know, I think she’s bi, but that’s just my speculation!” “What’s the basis for that?” Jessy responded inquisitively. “Eh, nothing really, just the vibes, y'know? There’s just something about her! Not really sure it's our place to speculate though!” I shrug & take a big long sip of my drink, staring at the floor once again. She was absolutely bisexual, her first orgasm & sex was with a woman! You’re asking the girl who gave it to her, who unlocked the bisexuality! These two would never know the truth, nor would anyone irl as far as I know.

💖Author Note: I’m only sharing this because I wanted to write a love letter to my past, to her in how we felt about each other back then, & those beautiful moments we shared together. Also I wanted to try my hand at writing more smut & sometimes you just like to think back on past sexual experiences. Really stepped into my own past memories, feelings, & POV with this one. I wanted to get this wonderful story out there for the world to see/hear without giving away the secret. A few tweaks, a few name changes, some added details, some details left out. This is all based on truth & a love I felt so deep but couldn’t have in this life. I still absolutely love my big sister, love her to death, but it’s not like that now (as far as I’m aware) & I’m perfectly content with that reality! If you see this; no, I’m not gonna make it weird unless you want to, though I doubt you would. We’re both older adults now than we were when this story took place & we’re at different places in our lives than we were back then. Hard to ever forget an experience like that though, you gotta admit! It was pretty gay! 💜

#I’m taking some creative liberties with this for the sake of story telling but this is rooted in truth; at least the majority of it is #little disclaimer of course that this is all just young adults playing pretend; we weren’t actually raised together or anything like that #no genetic relation whatsoever between parents; siblings; etc. I know this disclaimer shouldn’t be necessary but I’m trans so yeah lmao #also this is very reminiscent of early 2000s queer sisterhood relationships & is apparently way more common than I had thought #found family turns gay moments; I’m also changing names & things a bit for privacy reasons obviously; if she somehow finds this though #then we’ll just cross that bridge & have that conversation when we get there if she wants to; I’m not too pressed or stressed about it tbh #I’m making up names for everyone in the story but I honestly could never forget an experience like this #I don’t know if she ever forgot either seeing as she’s now seemingly a part of a polycule? or might be? I think that's neat #yknow polyamory the thing we talked briefly about? yeah so I must have awakened something in her; awakening times 2 #a bi discovery wasn’t the only thing made this day lmaoooo I put a lot of heart and soul into this story; I’m sure that’s probably obvious #it has a happy ending; at least one I’m satisfied with; but that’s because it’s literally based on my life & events & relationships irl #fauxcest #siscon #siscest #sibcest #sibcon #trans nsft #nsft trans #nonbinary nsft #trans ns/fw #tagging it with all the labels since I know how some people on here are about stuff #this took me like a whole 3-4 days to publish so please reblog it! I worked hard on this & I worked on this hard! lmao #be loyal to your partners; don't cheat. I wanna clarify that. do as i say not as i do or whatever; I was young; this was a long time ago

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