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ptersparkers · 1 year

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reckless (aaron hotchner)

summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.

warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably.

***

Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.

You just wish you liked your job.

You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures.

What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you.

In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.

You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected.

Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you.

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness.

It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.

Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late.

But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job.

“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say.

Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”

“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”

Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale.

For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that.

What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions.

“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case.

“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.

Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen.

“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”

“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning.

“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks.

“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.

“New flame?” Emily wonders.

“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”

“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file.

“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter.

“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.”

***

The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights.

“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud.

“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”

“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”

“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons.

“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”

“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”

“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”

“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.

“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”

“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask.

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”

All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.

“Go on.”

“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?”

“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”

You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly.

“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report.

At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues.

His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.

From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best.

When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole.

And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning.

What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you.

All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it.

He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.

He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.

The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.

It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals.

Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.

***

The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction.

The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team.

Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry.

“You okay?” he asks.

You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.

“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”

He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”

“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”

You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”

“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”

You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases.

But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.

“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”

“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.

You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”

“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”

“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.”

Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.

“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides.

“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”

“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”

“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.”

“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.”

“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read.

“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”

“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.

“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”

***

You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself.

But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t.

You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team.

But you don’t dwell on this too long.

Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.

You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.

Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.

Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.

He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area.

Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns.

Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house.

LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you.

You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you.

Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages.

“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.

“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.”

And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it.

“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”

“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace.

Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right.

You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct.

It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being.

You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.”

Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing.

“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”

“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”

“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”

“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”

That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.

“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”

“We have to catch Scott.”

“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.”

Unbelievable.

You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.

The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside.

Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety.

The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive.

You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico.

But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare.

You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck.

It’s black after that.

Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head.

“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”

“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies.

“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”

“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”

“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.”

Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare.

He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.

Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat.

“Get back to work.”

***

When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist.

The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.

The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.

The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.

The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from.

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott.

He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun.

“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”

Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”

“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself,

“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.”

“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”

Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you.

“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.”

He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.

“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.”

Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.

Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.

Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.

You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.

Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.

“Remember now?” he asks.

You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”

He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”

“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.

“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”

“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.

“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”

“No chance in hell.”

Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire.

“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.”

He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”

He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.

***

When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you.

The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep.

He wakes up to a cold sweat.

Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you.

You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t.

His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct.

The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.

When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property.

He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct.

At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day.

But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him.

“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.”

Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is.

He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.

But you never walk through the door.

“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.

“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out.

JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.

Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone.

When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place.

It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.

“L/N?”

“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.”

He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it.

“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good.

“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.”

From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer.

“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second.

“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.”

Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?”

Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”

“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”

Nobody says anything.

“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”

Aaron doesn’t like that answer.

His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.

This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim.

The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake.

It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct.

Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.

When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already.

It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it.

Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors.

The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words.

Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it.

“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.”

Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct.

The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.

“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”

Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott.

“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”

“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”

“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking.

He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you.

“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues.

“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.”

Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it.

“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.

“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”

“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”

He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.”

“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too.

“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”

Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything.

When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle.

“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.”

Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place.

It’s empty.

Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be.

“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment.

“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.”

It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do.

Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close.

Then he hears a gunshot.

Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.

But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands.

You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it.

He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you.

The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself.

Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital.

You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go.

His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.

“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.”

Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.

Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.

Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.

Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.

Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.

The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy.

Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates.

Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.

When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.

His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group.

“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.”

When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.”

Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.

“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.

“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.

“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”

Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.

Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.

It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.

“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.

Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t.

You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months.

“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.

“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says.

“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.

“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.”

“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.

You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.

“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.

Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.

“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”

“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly.

“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”

“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”

“I just–”

“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.”

Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.

***

You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep.

This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep.

The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.

You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case.

The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside.

“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.”

Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.

She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.

“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.”

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”

You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.

Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly.

“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”

You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.

“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.

“Did you sleep well?”

“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.

Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.

But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.

But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence.

“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out.

“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.

Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.

He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.

Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something.

“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted.

“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it.

“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”

There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me?

But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.

“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”

“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”

You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”

“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”

You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate.

Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.

Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”

“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”

“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”

“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him.

“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.”

You blink out of confusion.

“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”

The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay.

“Absolutely,” you say immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”

“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.

Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first.

“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts.

***

Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later.

“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.

“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.”

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”

“It’s no problem,” you downplay.

But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.

Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.

“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”

The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”

“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”

“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”

Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.

“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.

You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.

Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.

Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.

His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.

Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.

“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping.

Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him.

Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy.

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.”

You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.

True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat.

Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again.

You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep.

***

When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place.

JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched.

You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.

Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home.

The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.

The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.

When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.

He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow.

When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower.

But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.

Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”

Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.

“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.

“Please,” you croak.

Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake.

“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”

You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”

“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.

Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.

You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.

Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.

“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”

Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.

“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.

“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.”

You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.

Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.

You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.”

You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much.

Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot.

Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.

You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.

Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.

“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily.

Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.

“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”

Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.

“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.”

Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.

You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.

Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,

A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.

Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly.

It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.

But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering.

“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”

Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?

“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”

Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone.

“That would be great,” Aaron says.

You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.

“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.”

Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.

You settle with two pillows.

You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes.

“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest.

“Thank you,” Aaron says.

“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”

“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”

He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment.

But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while.

“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.”

“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess.

“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly.

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.

You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself.

You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much.

Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.

Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.

He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.

“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice.

He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric.

He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past.

Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere.

When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him.

“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.

Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.

“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm.

Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.

***

D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth.

You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right?

Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again.

This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up.

Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.

And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.

When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.”

“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it.

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”

Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”

“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock.

“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”

“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.”

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding.

“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”

“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”

“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.”

Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.

You can’t say no to Jack.

Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.

It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.

Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.

At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.

Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions.

Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.

Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.

It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.

A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.

Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.

It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.

Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.

Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.

And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.

Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.

Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”

“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”

“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely.

JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.

Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.

The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be.

In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.

Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.

The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.

But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.

You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.

Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.

“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”

You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.”

Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes.

Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.

You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment.

Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.

Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.

“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.

“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.”

You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave.

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly.

They leave soon after that.

You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there.

You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.

It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.

You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.

“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”

And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.

But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too.

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

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hello! for the 2k celebration: how about brothers bff!jk x reader (where jk has had a crush on Jimin’s big sis foreverrrrrr & now that they’re older he wants her to see him as a man) <3 all I can think of is seven jk w his tattoos & hair & abs!!! anyways happy 2k 💖💖💖 MWAH

thank you so much!! 💕 mwah 💋 x

big boy

You finally fall for Jungkook's charms.

pairing: brother's best friend!jungkook x fem!reader

genre: brother's best friend au

warnings: implied age gap, jk's needy but also kind of cocky??, she touches his abs lol, 600 words.

a.n.: ok like HE'S NEEDy but this is how i like it 😏 laundromat jk is my fav 🤞🏻

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍 (requests are closed!!)

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

"Jungkook," you say his name a bit in a scolding way, but the smile gracing your features tells otherwise. You pull your clothes out of the drier, folding them neatly on top of the machine before dropping them in your basket. "I don't know, it's... it's not-"

He interrupts you as you stay indecisive, his eyes round and so, so filled with hope. He helps you fold your clothes while you're talking together. This time he stops after having dropped your folded jeans in the basket, gently grabbing your bicep to make you face him.

"Just... why not?" He softly asks, your eyes finally meeting him. You still haven't folded the piece of clothing you're holding, but you look at him anyway. "One date, that's it! Nothing more if you don't want to, but if you want... you know I wouldn't mind," he grins and you can't help but do the same.

You sigh, defeated, because there's really nothing holding you back other than yourself. You would like to, but you keep overthinking.

"But what happens after? You'll still be friends with Jimin and..." You bite down on your lip, stopping mid-sentence, not sure what you're worrying about exactly.

The past, maybe. The implications, the consequences, how you'll see yourself after that. Things with Jungkook started being different when you came back for the summer break. You haven't seen him in years because you were studying abroad and seeing him again is, to say the least, special.

Jungkook is someone very loyal, he stayed in contact with your brother and made plans the minute he knew Jimin was back in town for the summer.

The loyalty he has for your brother you would have never noticed it before, but now it does something to you. You like it, you like that he doesn't forget years of friendship, that it still means a lot to him.

"And what? Jimin's a big boy," Jungkook justifies. "And so am I," he adds, making you smile. He is a big boy, that's for sure. "We'll handle it."

You look into his eyes when he says those words, staring back at you with a serious expression. He often laughs, but you know it when he speaks seriously, like right now.

You think for a moment, a short moment, comparing the pros and cons. You realize the cons are just things you worry could happen, that you're not even sure they would end up being true. Thinking twice, you don't think it's worth it to rely on the cons.

"The real question is... can you handle me?" You flirt and Jungkook surely likes this.

He smirks, his eyes looking at you up and down. Before, he would have responded no, that he can't handle you, that you're too good — too much — for him.

But now, heck yes he can.

He steps closer and takes your right hand, a stupid little grin on his face. "Can you..." He begins, passing your hand under his tank top, your fingers brushing against his abs. "Handle that?"

You're surprised, but you appreciate how he's blunt with you, not scared at all to shoot his shot. You voluntarily don't take your hand away immediately, though you remember you're not exactly in a private place.

"Jungkook!" You scold, but still giggle it off.

"Don't reject me," he pouts, and he genuinely looks sad.

You sigh again, knowing you don't really want to refuse his proposition. You enjoy his presence, he's funny and he always manages to make you laugh even when you're not feeling well.

He's an adult and so much more mature than other guys your age. He's attractive, so kind and attentive. He's a good man and Jungkook's right, it doesn't matter what others will think — aka Jimin.

"Okay. Go for a date."

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines

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francesderwent · 5 months

Text

been thinking about the whole “women in their thirties are refusing to get married and have kids because they’re selfish and ungodly and that’s what’s wrong with today’s society” shtick and what I think is this.

sometimes, women are single on purpose through their own choice. I’m one of them. I wasn’t in a relationship from the ages of twenty-two to thirty. I went on a very few first dates and even fewer second dates, and in every single one of those cases I was the one who said "thanks but I don't think we should pursue this any further", which isn't even to say anything about all the dates I turned down right off the bat and all the casual overtures I rebuffed. and those men weren't vicious monsters, they were all more or less basically decent. I could have married any one of them - even the ones I wouldn't go on first dates with. if I wanted to be married, I could have been. I chose not to be.

and it does have something to do with the fact that I was used to being single, but not in the sense of not having any room in my life for somebody else, not wanting to put in the work, not wanting to live for someone else. because anybody who's been single for a long time will tell you the only saving grace is filling your life with meaningful friendships and family relationships you can sacrifice for and be vulnerable in. a single life isn't necessarily a life where you're accountable to no one. sometimes it's a life where you're accountable to a whole lot of people, all at once, pulled in a lot of directions, trying to balance a lot of plates.

and the kicker is, when you have a life that's full like that, and you're used to it - when that's the firm status quo and you're not caught up in the rollercoaster of dating a lot and comparing new partners to old partners - then, when you do let a new person into your life, you can tell very quickly whether they make your life better or not. some people, you can comfortably date them and they're not going to make your life worse, but they don't add anything besides an excuse to get out to coffeeshops and restaurants and the movies. and some people, as soon as you start getting to know them, their influence starts creeping into the whole of your life because they make you want to be better all the time. I like to think the second kind of person would shine no matter when you met them, no matter what else was going on at the time. but in certain circumstances the first kind of person can shine, when they’re surrounded by a muddle of people who have made your life worse. so taking a step back from the muddle and being very careful who you let into your life in a big way isn't selfishness, or disrespect for marriage and family. it’s actually a kind of prudence.

I could've married any of those men who asked me out in my twenties. I chose not to, because they were just okay. and eventually, I met my current boyfriend, who makes me want to be a better daughter and sister, who encouraged me to stop bottling everything up and suffering in silence so that I could actually be emotionally vulnerable, not just with him but with my friends and family!, who has deepened my faith by showing me what agapic love looks like.

and I wasn't guaranteed any of that. when I was turning down dates and ending fledgling relationships, I had no way of knowing that this was even possible. but I think I made the right decision - and if he'd never turned up, I still think I would've made the right decision. Lizzie didn’t know that she would marry Mr Darcy, a man she loved and truly respected and admired, when she turned down Mr Collins. but she was right to turn down Mr Collins.

#it ALL comes down to the right to refuse Mr Collins in the end!!!!!!#in which cate tells stories #I will still not be elaborating at this time

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devildom-moss · 2 months

Note

How about MC returning the favour and giving roses to the others?

Okay, so I thought it would get a little boring if I did roses all over again, so I picked different types of flowers for each character. I hope that's okay and that you'll like what I came up with. (part of me wanted to add pictures of each flower but I don't know... so I didn't.) This took a long time. I will eventually get to the brothers, but it'll be a bit.

Flowers for them (the others)

Kind of a part. 2 for the Roses for You series (links here)

(Suggestive for all except Luke)

Word Count: +6,100 longest post yet?

Diavolo

red freesia

“The Young Master should be finishing up his work shortly,” Barbatos spoke as he escorted you to Diavolo’s bedroom, eyeing the vase of flowers in your arms. He chuckled and teasingly added, “I suppose I should make myself scarce for the night.”

You could tell from the mischief in his tone that he was insinuating your gift would charm Diavolo straight to bed – which wasn’t necessarily your intention. With a soft huff, you teased back, “You pervert.”

“If so, I’m in good company – My Lord, for instance.” Barbatos smirked at you, following your movements as you set the vase on Diavolo’s coffee table. “He’ll love them. It’s a lovely pick.”

With that, Barbatos left you alone in Diavolo’s room, waiting. Your fingertips gently ran over the length of bright red blossoms that sprang up from the stem like an offshoot of a branch, with the largest flower sprouting at the bend. As the minutes passed, the sweet, heady, citrus aroma of red freesias – the most potent variety – filled the room. It was that distinct scent that welcomed Diavolo as he returned to his bedroom, to you.

Diavolo’s lips parted in hesitation before a smile graced his face with a chuckle. “Barbatos told me I had a present waiting for me in my room. I wasn’t expecting two gifts.”

“Two?” You knew what he was hinting at, but you wanted him to say it.

“Such beautiful flowers, and you.” Diavolo made his way to the couch where you were sitting, tossing his jacket over the arm of it. He tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours with a softness befitting a delicate petal. When he pulled back, his eyes were pleading for something he could not speak of – a need that escaped detection in his mind after a long day of work. All he knew was that it involved you. “What have I done to earn this thoughtful gesture?”

“You didn’t need to do anything to earn them, but I suppose I wanted to return the gesture – when you gave flowers to me.”

Affection swelled in Diavolo’s chest, and he pulled you up into his arms so that you might feel his heart pounding for you. His eyes fell to the flowers on the table. He was no expert, but he was nearly certain that you had procured them from the human world – which only delighted him more. Red was typically a romantic color for flowers, but he was eager to know more, to make you say it.

Diavolo released you from his grasp and asked, “what type of flowers are these? Can I assume you picked them for a specific reason?”

“They’re called freesias, and yes, you can,” you admitted with a grin. “They usually carry a meaning of friendship, thoughtfulness, and trust; but the red ones, in particular, symbolize love, passion, admiration, and appreciation. There is also an association with strength and perseverance. When I think about you – you’re so dedicated to your goals. You have so many obligations, and you show so much courage, rising to meet those challenges. I want you to know how much I admire you, and I’ll be by your side, loving you through everything to come.”

Diavolo’s eyes were wide, stunned into silence. He couldn’t find the words to thank you. Instead, he kissed you with the urgency of a man on the verge of tears – who would burst if he didn’t express his love for you that instant. He gently pushed you down onto his couch and began to sneak his fingers beneath your clothes.

“Diavolo,” you muttered his name sweetly.

“Shh, just let me unwrap my other present,” Diavolo hushed you affectionately, peppering your neck with tender kisses. Barbatos was right.

Barbatos

pale purple and pink aster

“A little demon told me I would find a handsome butler baking in the kitchen,” you announced your presence with a sultry affection that caused Barbatos to freeze up ever so slightly. He turned from his spot at the counter, still holding a piping bag in his hands. His cheeks were slightly pink, but you were generous enough to consider it a symptom of his proximity to the oven. “You don’t mind that I showed up unannounced, do you? I won’t stay long if you’re busy.”

“Not at all,” Barbatos laughed and set the piping bag down. “I’m delighted to see you. May I be so bold as to assume you came here just to see me?”

“You may – in fact, you should – because I did.” You kept the bouquet of flowers tucked behind your back as you took a few steps closer.

“What are you hiding?” Barbatos tilted his head with a joyous curiosity. “I’ll have no secrets kept from me in my kitchen. If there are secrets, I’d rather they be between us.”

You couldn’t ignore the seductive hint in his tone, but you gathered yourself to instruct him, “close your eyes.”

“That’s not a new one, but we haven’t tried that in this particular room yet.” Barbatos followed your command. You knew he was turning up the charm to distract from the fact that you had flustered him by showing up today. He was overcorrecting to maintain his composure.

“Stop flirting; I’m trying to be sweet here.” You sighed and thrust the flowers out towards him. The light floral scent – previously masked by the cookies he had baked – finally hit him. Before you could give him the okay, Barbatos furrowed his brows and opened his eyes.

“Did you get me flowers?” His words were filtered through a grin. You nodded. Of course, he had expected as much, but the heat rushed to his cheeks at your confirmation. It had been a long while since he received flowers, and getting flowers from Luke and Diavolo – as sweet and precious as it was – elicited an entirely different feeling than the one that filled him now. Although there were traces of affection and gratitude in all three cases, only you could make his blood rush. He studied the flowers you held out for him, noting the combination of both blue-ish purple and pink blossoms, before slowly bringing his hands up to the bouquet, cupping over yours gently. “And where, my dear, did you get human world flowers – asters, I believe?”

“Sorcerer’s – well, apprentice’s – secret,” you teased, pulling your hands back. “How did you know what they were?”

“Oh, please don’t tell me Solomon was involved in their procurement.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Wonderful. That would ruin the mood,” Barbatos flashed you a smile – almost threatening with its undertones of envy. “And as for how I know that: the Royal library is vast. We have a good number of books on human world horticulture. But perhaps you could give me a brief floriography lesson.”

“You don’t know?” A part of you was shocked – as it often seemed that Barbatos knew everything.

“I could fathom a guess, but it would be far less accurate than hearing the words directly from your lips.” Barbatos held the bouquet in one hand, using his free hand to pull you closer by the waist. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “Now, please enlighten me.”

“Asters are associated with traits that remind me of you: patience, elegance, and wisdom. The purple asters represent that wisdom – as well as your grace, nobility, and mysterious beauty. The pink ones are for your sensitivity and kindness. You’re always serving others and thinking about them, and you’re so sweet to me. Of course, pink is also a symbol of love – lest you forget how much I adore you.”

“Oh my.” Barbatos lowered his eyes, flushing a pale pink. “You’re too kind, MC.”

“You asked me to enlighten you.” You pressed your lips sweetly, albeit momentarily, to his. “Now you know.”

“Close your eyes,” Barbatos whispered. Feeling you owed him the same trust, you shut your eyes. “Now, open your mouth.”

Again, you did as he asked, only for him to bring one of his bite-sized, fresh-baked cookies up to your mouth. A delightful sweetness flooded your tongue. His fingers grazed your lips and lingered, waiting for you to swallow before swiping his thumb across you.

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, my dear. I’m afraid that will have to be a suitable reward for your kindness until I’m done here. Then, I’ll repay you properly.”

Luke

pink and yellow hibiscus

It had been raining in the Devildom for five full days, with another three days of rain ahead in the forecast. The slow shift from a gentle pitter-patter to a heavy pounding on the RAD windowpanes played in the background of each class you attended. This would be fine, if not for the fact that Luke’s gloomy face was haunting your mind. He had been sulking since the third day of rain. Even a happy, sweet little angel like Luke can’t keep his sunny disposition forever. He clearly missed going outside without the threat of damp clothes and discomfort. You had to do something – he was practically your adopted son.

“Luke,” you caught his attention at the end of class, “are you free tomorrow?"

“Yeah,” he admitted sadly, “there’s not much I can do in this weather.”

“Great! What do you say we have a picnic?”

“What? We can’t sit outside and eat when it’s raining like this! We’ll get sick. Besides, I think the parks are starting to flood.” Luke groaned quietly.

“Let’s have an indoor picnic, then. We could prepare some snacks together, lay a blanket down in the living room or maybe make a blanket fort, and play some games. What do you think?”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Luke perked up immediately – the first genuine smile he had had all day gracing his sweet face.

“I’ll meet you at Purgatory Hall at noon tomorrow, okay? I’ll pick up some fruit and ingredients for sandwiches or something – just let me know if there’s anything you’re craving.”

“Let me think about it after I check the pantry at Purgatory Hall, okay?”

“Of course.”

“I’m so excited!” Luke’s grin widened as dozens of snacking options crossed his mind.

Luke contacted you later that day with a short list of ingredients to make grilled cheese sandwiches and a few fruits – including an array of berries. You stopped by the market, which was pleasantly quiet, on your way over to grab everything, placing the grocery items in a large picnic basket you decided to bring along. Inside that basket was also a pitcher of cold brewed sweet hibiscus tea you prepared the night before and a bouquet of human world flowers you had magically crafted. You didn’t have time to pop up to the human world and purchase them, and you were certain you couldn’t obtain them at a florist here, so hopefully these would do.

Luke greeted you eagerly at the door and ushered you towards the kitchen. He had a bright smile on his face, and you were certain this was the closest thing to sunshine as the Devildom would ever know. You spotted a loaf of fluffy-looking bread on the counter, and Luke confessed happily, “I baked some milk bread before you came over, and we have a variety of delicious jams and spreads to go with it. We also have all the ingredients to bake cookies later if you’re up for it.”

“That sounds wonderful, Luke. You’re so sweet.” You began to pull the ingredients out of the basket, careful to keep the bouquet tucked away. “I have a surprise for you. Have you ever tried hibiscus iced tea? It’s made from human world flowers.”

“I don’t think so.” With that, you pulled the pitcher out of the basket, revealing a bright red liquid. Luke was enamored. “It looks so pretty! Can we try it right now? I’ll get some glasses and ice.”

Luke’s smiling face as he took his first sip told you everything you needed to know. He loved it.

The two of you set up your blanket fort – complete with multiple comfy pillows – in the living room before preparing your grilled cheese sandwiches and a platter of fruit, spreads, and the bread Luke made earlier. Luke brought a few games into the fort while you brought the tea and the basket. With everything in place, you were ready.

“Actually, Luke, I have one more surprise for you.” You reached into the basket and pulled out the bouquet: a mix of hibiscus flowers – some a bright yellow and others a soft pink. Luckily, it was still in pristine condition.

“For me? These are the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen!” Luke brought his hands up to his mouth. “What are they?”

“These are hibiscus. I couldn’t get them from the human world, so I had to recreate them with magic, but I wanted you to have them,” you admitted, handing the bouquet over so he could inspect them further. “The pink ones symbolize friendship and platonic love while the yellow ones mean joy, happiness, and sunshine – which I felt like you needed more of recently.”

Luke’s smile faltered briefly before resolving itself. He hugged the flowers close to him. “Thank you. You’re right, I think I did need this. If you ever want to become an angel, I think you’d make a great one.”

Simeon

(Original game lesson 76 spoilers)

red and white variegated tulip

Simeon wouldn’t tell you how he had convinced everyone to let the two of you go on a weekend trip to the human world together – and he had no plans to, either. Perhaps the others felt bad about Simeon losing his angel’s blessing; if anyone could cleverly use guilt to get his way, it would be Simeon. Then again, who knew what tactics Simeon had in that mind of his – what he could stoop to. He was a human now, and that offered him an excuse to be devious; there was no need to feign innocence when he wasn’t held to an angel’s standard. Simeon would do a lot for you, and perhaps it was best that you were not made aware of every detail of his schemes.

Still, he had gone through the trouble of planning everything. The first day was delightful; Simeon led you through a beautiful town, packing as many fun activities into your time together as he could. He even booked a nice hotel room beforehand that “incidentally” only had one bed. You wanted to thank him somehow.

So, you forced yourself to wake up early, crawling out of bed quietly to avoid disturbing Simeon. During your previous outing, you noticed a flower market, along with several bakeries and cafés. It wasn’t much, but breakfast and flowers seemed like a good start to show him your gratitude. Besides, this was a rare opportunity to spoil him a bit.

It was still early by the time you returned to your hotel room – flowers, coffee, and an assortment of pastries in hand. Luckily, Simeon was still peacefully asleep. You worked quickly, rearranging the flowers in a nice vase that you were fortunate enough to find at the market and plating the pastries. Some – a huffy, grumpy old demon, for example – would probably frown at your use of magic to summon up some decent serveware, but with Solomon as your teacher, you figured you had every right to use magic frivolously. You had just finished up by the time Simeon began to stir, letting out the softest little moan.

The sweet combination of smells filled his senses – although he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. It could have been a café nearby for all he knew. Simeon stretched his arms out to the empty side of the bed, and upon feeling your absence, he decided to open one eye and investigate.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

“Why did you get out of bed?” He sat up with a yawn.

“I wanted to thank you, so, ta-da.” You brought a tray to the bed and set it next to him. Simeon’s eyes, still adjusting to the morning light, looked over the hot coffee, pastries, and a vase of red and white variegated tulips. A smile slowly formed on his lips.

“Just how long did you leave me alone in bed?” Simeon chuckled. “Thank you, MC. This is so sweet.”

“You deserve it.” You brushed his hair aside to kiss his forehead. “Did you know that variegated tulips mean beautiful eyes? They’re ideal for giving to someone you admire – although admire isn’t nearly strong enough to describe my feelings for you.”

Simeon’s face warmed, and he nervously took a sip of his coffee to calm his desires. The drink was perfect, as if you had thought about him in every detail. It only made his heart race more. He set the cup down. “Tell me more.”

“About the flowers – or are you asking me to praise you more?” you teased.

“Either sounds nice. Just kidding, you can tell me about the flowers.” Simeon was quick to retreat from asking for praise.

“The flowers first, then. Well, the florist – farmer? The person selling the flowers told me that these are called Grand Perfection Tulips. They start out a light yellow and turn white as they mature, but the red streaks stay the same vibrant color throughout. I wanted to get the mature ones because I wanted to convey the meaning of both red and white tulips. Red tulips are probably easy to guess the meaning of, right? They represent love, devotion, sacrifice, and lust.” Your voice dropped at the last word, and Simeon nearly choked on the pastry he had bitten into. You continued, “But white symbolizes purity and new beginnings. They’re also used to tell someone ‘I’m sorry.’”

Simeon caught the shame in your voice and stared at you, confused. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“It’s at least partially my fault that you’re a human now.” Your heart sat heavy in your chest and the weight of your words anchored Simeon to the bed. “You sacrificed a lot, and now you’re living this new life, and it’s not fair that you were punished for protecting the people you care about. All I can do is tell you that I’m sorry, and I love you, and thank you.”

“No.” Simeon’s voice was unusually stern – as was the look on his face. He moved the tray onto the bedside dresser and pat his lap. “Sit on the bed with me.”

You took a seat at the edge of the bed, but Simeon shook his head and grabbed your hand, pulling it to his side.

“Closer,” he insisted. You took the hint and climbed over his lap. He stared at you affectionately, his fingers dancing up your sides. “Better. Now, listen closely: I don’t blame you. Even if I had to fall as far as becoming a demon, I would – and I’d do it just for your sake. You don’t have to apologize for the actions I chose to take.”

“But –”

“Don’t feel bad, or I’ll be tempted to take advantage of you and be greedy,” Simeon admitted. “I’ll ask you to stay by my side forever and love me more.”

“I can do that,” you whispered, trying to digest your guilt.

“Then don’t say you’re sorry. I’m okay with living as a human alongside you. Now,” Simeon gently rolled over with you in his arms until he was on top of you, “while I appreciate your precious gesture of breakfast in bed, I have something different in mind. Can I?”

Solomon

black poinsettia (Devildom) and red poinsettia (human realm)

You were finding it hard to focus on Solomon’s lessons. Between his lingering gazes, the sly way his body pressed to yours as he glanced over your work, and the anticipation of the surprise you had planned for him, you could barely maintain your composure.

“What’s on your mind, my sweet apprentice?” Solomon picked up on your tension. “Am I distracting you?”

“Not exactly.” Solomon pouted slightly at your response and clapped his book shut in his hands. “I’ve been working on a new spell in secret. I think I’ve got it now. Can I show you?”

Solomon burst out in melodic laughter. “How studious of you. Of course. Show me what you’ve got.”

You had practiced this nearly a dozen times before in preparation; you could do this. All you had to do was take a deep breath and concentrate your magic into your hands. With a flourish, you summoned a large bouquet of black and red poinsettias and held them out for Solomon. Bowing slightly, you added, “for my adorable teacher.”

Solomon’s cheeks flushed pink, but by the time you looked up to gauge his reaction, Solomon’s surprise had melted into a tender smile. He chuckled and reached over the bouquet to pat your head. “That’s certainly something. Good job.”

“I chose these flowers specifically for you.”

“Oh?” A faint pink glow reappeared on Solomon’s cheeks. He wasn’t certain you had put any thought behind the flowers you summoned; knowing that they were chosen with intent warmed his face and made his heart ache. Suddenly, he recalled the bouquet of black and red roses he had given you. Barbatos had once told Solomon that black poinsettias – native to the Devildom – had a special meaning for couples, but despite poinsettias being his birth month flower, Solomon didn’t know much about their symbolism. The question on his lips fell out shyly, “What do they mean?”

“Black poinsettias represent the bond between two people. Red poinsettias are associated with cheer, rebirth, and good wishes – but, more importantly, with love, passion, and strength. I think that reflects our bond, don’t you?” You smiled at him softly. “And there’s something else: I wanted to combine flowers from the Devildom and the human world. It’s because Diavolo decided to try to bring the human realm and the Devildom together that I was able to meet you, and I’ll always be grateful and happy about the new life I have here – with you.”

“My adorable apprentice, you’ve outdone yourself,” Solomon praised you. He took the bouquet in one hand, removing it from the space between you, and pulled you close until your noses nearly touched. He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper, “I’ve never witnessed such a powerful seduction spell.”

“It wasn’t a seduction spell.”

“Then why am I so enamored with you right now? I can hardly contain myself.” Solomon crashed his lips against yours with overwhelming neediness. The kiss grew heated quickly, and you were both left panting by the time he pulled away. “Let’s conclude your studies early today. I think I need to spend the rest of the night studying you, instead.”

Thirteen

pink spider lily

“Thanks again for treating me today – you really didn’t have to.” You squeezed Thirteen’s hand as you walked together towards her cave.

“Well, you deserved a little reward for agreeing to meet me at Café Lament. It was a last-minute invitation, and I’m just happy you were able to join me. I think their new dark hell mocha pudding parfait tasted better because I got to eat it with you.” She bumped her shoulder against yours casually. A faint vanilla scent hit you; how did someone so involved with death smell this good?

“I didn’t expect them to top it with bufo eggs. I liked it, though.”

“Right?”

Part of the reason you had so readily agreed to accompany Thirteen – other than wanting to spend time with her – was because it gave you the opportunity to surprise her. As someone so often involved with setting up traps and tricking people, you figured she’d appreciate an unexpected present. All you had to do was get her out of her room for a bit.

Just before your date – when you knew she had already left – you used a bit of magic to leave flowers on Thirteen’s bedside table. She was far enough away to not sense your magical delivery, too, so by the time she arrived home, a small present would be waiting for her. Of course, you could have summoned them while she was at RAD, but you wanted to see her reaction, and there was a good chance Thirteen would invite you back home with her after your date. Besides, leaving school with her was likely to draw the attention of at least one of the brothers, and neither of you would have any peace if that occurred.

As Thirteen led you to her bedroom, anticipation grew in the pit of your stomach. You were excited to see the look on her face. When she opened her door, the faint remnants of your magic lingered, but her focus was concentrated on you. She dragged you into her room, walking backwards until you both crossed the threshold. Thirteen let go of your hands, wrapped her arms around your neck, and kissed you tenderly. Lips still locked on yours, she shut the door behind you and pressed your back gently against it. Your hands landed on her hips. A soft sigh left her as she pulled away.

“I was looking forward to that,” she admitted. The light floral scent and your magic finally got through to her, and Thirteen turned in your hands. She was startled by the appearance of a vase of pink spider lilies next to her bed. Her brows furrowed and she looked back at you, a smile fighting its way through her attempt to find the right words. “Did you – when? What?”

“I did,” you started, coolly. “Right before our date, and they’re pink spider lilies – or resurrection lilies.”

“They’re beautiful, but are you trying to be funny, giving a reaper something called resurrection lilies?"

“No, of course not. While it’s true that the most common color for resurrection lilies is red; and they symbolize death, corpses, and blood; the pink ones don’t have those same associations. I don’t think of death when I think of you – not usually, anyway. The pink flowers represent beauty, love, passion, and desire.” You brought a hand up to caress her cheek. “And you, my love, are so beautiful and passionate. I love being around you – and I love you.”

“Well, how can I get upset over such a precious explanation?” Thirteen chuckled through her smile and left a soft kiss on your cheek. “What if you weren’t here when I found such a lovely gift?”

“I had a feeling you’d want to take me home with you – and if you didn’t, I would have told you about the flowers over the phone.”

“You’re a confident one, aren’t you?”

“Nah, I just know you like me.”

“Okay, smarty-pants.” Thirteen rolled her eyes playfully. “Then tell me this: what am I going to do now that I have you in my room?”

“I think we’re going to take this to the bed.”

“Such a smart human. No wonder I love you.”

Raphael

lavender

Raphael: I’m almost done mending your sweater. You can pick it up tomorrow if you want. I embroidered flowers along the hem of your sleeves where it tore. It will suit you, so I hope you like it.

Raphael offered to mend your sweater after he saw how upset you were over it tearing – especially since it had caught on a shelf while you were out shopping with him. He had been offering to do more sewing specifically for you recently, which made him all the more comfortable asking you to take off your clothes the second you got back to his room. You knew what he meant, but sometimes his straightforward approach flustered you. If it had been anyone else, you had no doubt that there would have been more sexual undertones. Although perhaps if Raphael wasn’t so concerned about your disappointment at ripping your sleeve, he might have thought to add another meaning to his words. But alas, he was solely focused on mending an item you clearly cherished.

You appreciated the gesture, and you knew you would only adore the sweatshirt more now that he had helped to fix it. Raphael could be quite sweet when you gave him the opportunity – and, if you weren’t mistaken, he seemed to have only become kinder after coming to the Devildom. You weren’t certain how much he would appreciate the gesture, but you wanted to get him flowers.

The following morning, before you left for Purgatory Hall, you read over the spell you had found in a book Satan was nice enough to lend you. All you needed were a few herbs, your magic, and a Devildom equivalent of the human world flower you wanted to recreate. You stopped by a florist – one Raphael had taken you to before – to get the last ingredient for your spell.

The demon working the shop looked up from the counter, a wicked recognition in his eyes. “Aye, if it ain’t the little human again. Been a while. Your angel cut ya loose? Or maybe you got a taste for demons now, hm?”

“Have we met?”

“Why I –” he huffed, releasing his anger, “y’know, I guess we didn’t get a chance to meet last time, cuteness. I’m Stolas, and you are?”

You gave the aggressively friendly demon your name. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a bit of a rush today. I have to go see ‘my angel’ soon. Do you happen to have any acid lavender in stock?”

“Shame,” he sighed. “But yes. Right over there.”

Stolas motioned towards an aisle with his head, and your eyes followed. There was a small selection next to some filler plants – what you assumed constituted Devildom “greenery.” You picked out a pretty, fragrant bunch and returned to the counter with your wallet in hand. “How much for this one?”

“Tell ya what, you show that sweet little face ‘round here more often an’ I’ll letcha have ‘em for free.” Stolas leaned over the counter and gave you a wink.

“I’d feel better if I paid. You’re running a business, after all.”

“For you, 100 Grimm.” He wrapped your flowers up nicely and handed them back to you. “See ya ‘round, MC. Tell your little angel I said hi, would ya?”

You nodded, with no intention of following through on that. On your walk to Purgatory Hall, you performed the spell, and by the time you arrived, you had a bouquet of human realm lavender in your hands.

Raphael was the one to greet you at the door, and you quickly hid the bouquet behind your back. He smiled at you softly. “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.”

Raphael led you to his room. Now that you were alone, you pulled out the bouquet and presented it to him. His back was still turned as he walked to his desk and makeshift crafting table.

“Uhm, Raph, I hope you don’t mind, but I got you some flowers,” you admitted, still holding out the bouquet. He turned around immediately, surprise evident on his face. Your sweater was folded neatly in his hands.

“Me? What for?”

“To thank you. I’m really grateful – not just for the sweater, but for everything.”

Raphael inspected the flowers in your hand, slightly confused. They looked familiar, but not quite like any plant he had known. The color was off. Acid lavender was a deeper, darker shade of purple – almost black – while its counterpart in the celestial realm was a pastel blue. However, the pleasant aroma was quite similar. “Is this human lavender?”

“Yes. Although I had to use magic to get this from acid lavender. I think lavender suits you.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because lavender is associated with purity, silence, and calmness. It represents personal growth, and,” you paused, inching closer to him, “it’s a symbol of love and devotion.”

Raphael made no efforts to hide his smile. He unfolded your sweater to reveal leaves embroidered with pastel blue lavender flowers. “What a pleasant coincidence.”

Your lips parted in astonishment. Not only was it a coincidence, but Raphael had done a beautiful job repairing your clothes. He handed you the sweater and took the bouquet in his hands. The only ones who had ever given him flowers were Luke and Michael – and the latter case usually annoyed him more than it delighted him.

“Thank you, Raph. This is lovely.” You clutched the sweater close to your chest. Raphael shook his head, setting the lavender down carefully on the nearby table.

“I don’t know if these flowers suit me. They smell nice, and I appreciate them, but if you’re going to be so nice to me,” Raphael paused to pull you in, flush against his body, “neither of us are going to be pure or silent. . . just teasing.”

You waited for him to let go, indicating that he was, indeed, teasing, but his grip remained firm. “Are you?”

“Would you like me to tease you?”

He was impossible.

Mephistopheles

red wallflower

You knocked politely on the door to the RAD Newspaper Club room. It was getting late and the only students you had run into were those who had stayed behind after club activities to chat or do who-knows-what. Mephisto, shouted from the other side of the door. “Come in but make it quick.”

“Serun told me you were going to be here late.” You walked in and set the overly sweet pastry you had bought on Mephisto’s desk, still hiding a bouquet of flowers behind your back. “I figured some sugar might perk you up.”

“Oh, MC, I thought you might be a club member.” He added that to strike his comment about making it quick from the record. If it was you, he didn’t mind a bit of company. Mephisto glanced up at your face quickly before returning his gaze to the stack of articles he needed to edit. “First, why would Serun tell you if I’m staying late? And second, was that last part supposed to be a euphemism? Should I push my chair back?”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “They told me because it’s apparent that I’ve taken an unfortunate liking to you, and someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Then the sugar?” Mephisto questioned you, flipping the page. You laughed again, which bothered him. “What?”

You pushed the pastry closer to him until it entered his line of sight. The soft “oh” from his lips made you chuckle. “Oh, you are so cute when you’re serious.”

“Get out,” Mephisto scoffed to distract from his warm cheeks and his desire to smile.

“Aw, are you grumpy? I’ll leave, but I have a gift for you first. Look up from your work for one minute, please?” You sweetened your tone to entice him further, but you couldn’t miss the exaggerated roll of his eyes. He set his pen down and gave you his full attention. “Good boy.”

“I will bite – I mean fight you.” Mephisto’s heart raced.

That exasperated look on his face melted as you pulled out a bouquet of deep red wallflowers in a smooth black vase and set them on his desk – out of the way of his paperwork. It wasn’t easy obtaining them, but you wanted to do something nice for Mephisto beyond your usual small gifts and kind words. He chewed on his lower lip to hide the threat of a smile.

“What are these for?” he asked.

“I wanted you to feel loved,” you confessed.

Mephisto let out a soft, affectionate groan. “I don’t recognize these flowers. What are they?”

“They’re from the human world – wallflowers. They represent faithfulness in adversity, and resilience. Red ones, specifically, signify love. It makes me think of you. I really admire your unwavering loyalty to Diavolo – I mean, you’re here now, this late, because you want to support him. I want to give you my loyalty, too – romantically.”

“I –” Mephisto took a second to gather his words. “I’m going to be another hour or two here tonight. You should take a nap on the couch while I finish up. I’ll take you home when I’m done.”

“I’d much rather stay up with you, but if you’re busy, I can go home now,” you offered, slightly disappointed. There was a silver lining, at least. “I’ll see you tomorrow, anyway.”

“Oh, you misunderstood. I’m taking you home with me. And I want you to get some rest because I’ll be keeping you awake all night.” He smirked and got out of his seat to usher you towards the couch. Mephisto laid you down sweetly, smoothing his hand over your hair before walking back to his desk. He cleared his throat, trying to force his feelings up to the surface. “And MC, thank you. I – I haven’t felt this cherished in a while. I love you, too.”

This was a bad idea, he thought. How was he going to concentrate when your precious sleeping face was right across the room? Once you fell asleep, he was determined to get a picture – or ten.

A/N: Happy (possibly be-lated) Valentine's Day. I hope even though it's late, this one fills y'all with love. If you're single or something, then you automatically have my love now (unless you don't want it). Also, we are never going to talk about how long I spent on this, okay? Okay.

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seraphicsentences · 18 days

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Can u write abt Reader that doesn't know how to cuss and swear cuz she thinks that's rude and one day she asks Ellie to teach her. I just wanted to know how she would react to Reader's a.k.a her girl's request. Thank you~

hi my sweet angel baby yes i absolutely can here you go honey— it’s highkey shit but -!

you weren’t big on swearing: raised by two very christian, very strict parents, you learned to view it as rather crude, and if anything, unnecessary.

ellie’s heard it all, seeing as she’s spent nearly every waking moment by your side, and been graced with an exceptionally dirty potty-mouth.

“language, ellie!”

“watch it, els.”

“that’s so not nice of you to say, ellieeee.”

she’s gotten used to your mother like reprimands, finding them merely adorable at this point rather than chiding.

this, quite consequentially, has led her to actually swear more around you, eager to make herself victim to your frustrations.

“what a little bitch. dumb fucking cunt is hacking the stupid ass server for fucking no reason,” she’d argue with her screen.

“ellie!” you’d wind the corner, coming in to whack her across the head, knocking her headset down. “don’t say that!”

she’d swivel in her chair to shoot you an amused smirk, crossing her arms. “okay, mom, you gonna wash my mouth with soap now or something?”

“don’t be weird els, i’m just saying, you don’t have to use those words!”

“what words?”

“those ones!”

“mmm, sorry babe, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ellie! grow up!”

“yes, mommy.”

“now don’t be gross, els.”

“okay, okay, i’m stopping now.”

“you suck.”

“yeah, your mom’s clit.”

“oh my god ellie!”

yeahhhh that’s how most of your interactions would go. you don’t love her any less though. she’s your girl! and in all honesty— her colorful vocabulary can be its own kind of charming at times. ;))

anyways.

so, in your 18 years of friendship, she would’ve never expected this from you. like never.

the thought had festered in your mind all throughout the week, but it had only truly hit earlier this afternoon.

“what was that, babe?”

“can you teach me how to swear properly?”

for a second, ellie just stared at you, evidently appalled. then she burst out into laughter.

“pfffft, what?!?”

“ellie!” you whined, “it’s not funny, i’m serious.”

“god, you’re so fucking cute.”

“ellie.”

she chuckled, “seriously, it’s adorable. try: ‘fuck you, bitch.’”

“i can’t-“

“knew ittt”

“fuck you, you fucking bitch.”

a beat passes, the two of you sitting facing each other in silence, both entirely shocked by your words.

“i didn’t mean-” you stumble out, cut off by ellie’s sharp laugh.

“HA! you’ve been corrupted!” she says, weirdly gleeful.

“i take that back, i did mean to say that,” you cross your arms in attempt to look stern.

ellie’s not buying it. she pounces atop your lap to press a warm smile against your open lips, “mhm, sure you did.”

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clu-ven · 1 year

Note

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests at the moment but if you are: how do you think the bad batch would confess to their crush that they have feelings for them? How would their crush confess to them? I love your work and I hope you’re having a great day!

THE BAD BATCH CONFESS THEIR FEELINGS TO YOU

sorry this took me a while anon! loved this request so so much so thank you!! if you want me to do your other suggestion of their crush confessing their feelings to the Batch just let me know <3

word count: 3.1k

HUNTER

You make Hunter’s life extremely difficult.

Do you know how hard it is when you’re all on a mission, utterly dependent on Hunter’s heightened senses to detect any danger but instead all he can focus on is you? Listening to the rhythmic thudding of your heart and the soft sighs you make when he should be focusing on the enemy.

No matter where the Batch is, either relaxing on the Marauder or in the midst of another mission, Hunter yearns to be by your side and relish in all things you.

Hunter’s tried to deny it, hoping to convince himself of anything but the obvious truth of the matter. Deep down, Hunter knows what this is. He knows there’s more to his need to feel your presence and that his feelings go much deeper than merely seeing you as a friend.

In an ideal world, Hunter would never confess his feelings to you. He’s too nervous, fearful that such a confession could jeopardise your friendship. He would rather suffer in silence and never mention his feelings instead of confronting them and accidentally messing up your friendship.

But this is something he has to do. Hunter hopes that by telling you how he feels, he’ll relax more and he can start using his senses again for locating any danger. His constant need to sense you is putting the others at risk and that’s why he’s certain he has to tell you.

...and now, a quick drabble...

Hunter waits until the Marauder is quiet before approaching you, trying to time it perfectly so none of the others will overhear. Although Hunter is positive you only see him as a friend, this is something he needs to do, hoping your kind hearted nature will soften the blow of your imminent rejection.

“Can we talk?” Hunter’s gruff voice cuts through the near perfect silence of the Marauder, the only other noise being the quiet hum of the ship gliding through hyperspace.

“Yeah, sure” you reply with a smile. Damn, your smile is not what Hunter needs to see right now, the small action making his heart beat even faster. As if reading his mind, your smile fades, something Hunter views as both a blessing and a curse.

“Is everything alright?” you question, Hunter's sullen demeanour making you worry.

He sighs, unsure how to answer that question as he steps deeper into the room. “Look, I’m uh.., I’m not too sure how to say this or if I should even tell you but well, I like you. In the more than a friend kinda way and I’m not too sure what to do about it but the last thing I want is for it to affect our relationship”.

Although his confession takes you by surprise, your heart quickly warms. It’s obvious Hunter is overthinking this, a light shade of red appearing across his cheeks as he hurriedly corrects his last statement “Our working relationship! And our friendship, that’s uh, that’s what I meant by relationship”.

With your mouth curving into a soft smile, you gesture to his sullen demeanour “and you liking me is… a bad thing?”.

Hunter blurts out a flurry of words in response, trying his best to reassure you that’s not what he meant. “What-no, no I- it’s not, I just meant…” but slowly he trails off, a smile of his own gracing his lips as he realises you’re teasing him.

Taking a moment to recompose himself, Hunter nods, giving you a look of adoration you’ve seen from him many times before. Shrugging, he mumbles “You know what I mean”.

Biting back a laugh you agree, slipping your hand into his “I sure do, Sarge”. Does Hunter feel like he’s about to collapse? Yep. Is this the closest thing he’s ever experienced to a heart attack? Double yes. Does he regret telling you how he feels? Absolutely not.

TECH

Tech needs help. He has no idea why he feels this way whenever you’re near, how your gaze alone manages to make his hands clammy or how the sound of your laugh makes his heart beat ten times faster than normal.

It’s a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing in the sense that you actually listen to him when he explains a plan or when he randomly info dumps. In contrast to how most react, you genuinely listen, offering your own view on the subject or asking him questions if you’re not sure on something.

It makes him feel strange but in a good way, which confuses him even more. It’s something Tech has no idea how to combat or why it’s even happening to begin with.

Luckily for Tech, he discovers what this is very soon… but not because of his own diagnosis of the problem. It’s painfully obvious he likes you. The subtle signs might not mean much to others and can be overlooked by some, but to his brothers, it’s so damn obvious Tech has a crush on you.

Whenever one of his brothers mentions this, Tech’s hesitant to admit it… mainly because he knows the probability of some ‘playful’ teasing will increase exponentially if he admits his feelings for you to them.

But Tech knows it’s true, that he’s both physically attracted to you as well as adoring you on a much deeper level too.

...guess what, it's time for another quick drabble...

The whole Batch has gathered around the cockpit, trying to get Tech to finally confess his feelings. You went out on a quick detour for some Mantell Mix before the Batch’s next mission and the others have taken this golden opportunity to help Tech.

For some, aka Hunter and Omega, they want Tech to confront his feelings so he can finally ask you out, something they’re certain both you and him want. But for others, aka Wrecker, he just wants Tech to admit it so he can tease him about it, all good heartedly of course.

Hunter shrugs in the seat next to him, arms crossed “Y’know, it’s ok if you like her, we’re not soldiers anymore, we’re allowed to have a life”.

Tech keeps his mouth shut. He’s already tried numerous ways to deflect this but his siblings are adamant. There is a small part of him warming to the idea, his family’s support and encouragement making his feelings for you even stronger.

But before Tech can compare the probability of you liking him back to the probability of rejection and the accompanying embarrassment that would bring, Wrecker’s laugh snaps him out of his thoughts.

“What do you mean ‘if’ he likes her?” Wrecker playfully jibes “have you seen how red he gets every time she talks to him? Ha! Of course he has a crush on her”.

… and that is how you find out. Climbing up the steps of the Marauder, Mantell Mix in hand, Wrecker’s booming voice is crystal clear to you.

Although it only takes you a quick ten seconds to actually make your way to the cockpit, when you do, everyone is facing you. By the shocked expressions that greet you, they know you heard Wrecker, who tries his best to smooth things over as he asks “Oh… um, when did you get here?”.

You don’t think you’re as shocked as Omega, who’s jaw is practically on the floor, but it still takes you a few moments to process the question, your brain not over Wrecker’s initial statement.

Saving you from stuttering out at answer, Hunter stands and gives Tech a firm yet assuring pat on the shoulder. “We’ll leave you to it” he gives Tech a nod before guiding everyone else out of the cockpit, leaving only you and Tech left.

Tech waits until you sit down first, taking in a deep breath before he begins. “Well, this isn’t how I planned on telling you,” he readjusts his goggles, purposefully avoiding your gaze “but since the topic has come up… what do you think?”. He knows this might be a great conversation or an awkward one but either way Tech will remain open and honest with you, trying his best to articulate exactly how he feels.

WRECKER

When you and Wrecker are together, there’s no shutting him up. For the most part, Wrecker acts like his normal self whenever you’re around, albeit a bit more hyper than usual.

He loves talking to you, rambling on about irrelevant things or going to explore new cities with you. But Wrecker notices how he stumbles over his words more when you’re near him, feeling flushed when your hand grazes his and how his usually extroverted demeanour reverts into itself when he has your full attention.

For a while, Wrecker keeps this to himself. He doesn’t do this to try and hide his feelings for you, he just wants to hold back until he figures out what these feelings are exactly.

But the second Wrecker figures out what this is, having that shocking moment of realisation that he likes you more than a friend, you’ll know about it.

Wrecker doesn’t see the point in keeping this from you. He’s pretty sure it’s obvious he likes you and besides, why hide it?

Wrecker wants to skip this ‘will they, won’t they’ stage and jump right into it… if that’s what you want too.

...oh my god what is this? Is this... no, it can't be! my god, it's another quick drabble...

Wrecker’s been hit with a lot of things: parts of droids after an explosion he probably caused, a lunch tray while on Kamino, a pillow when he snores too loud… and yet none of those have ever hit him as strong as this.

The realisation that he not only has a crush on you, but is probably in love with you? That hits him with just as much force as any Jedi wields. And if there’s one thing Wrecker can’t do, it’s keep this crucial revelation to himself.

He needs to tell you, to explain exactly what this feeling is and ask if you feel it too. Wrecker doesn’t see the point in waiting or testing the waters with you first when he can dive straight in instead.

It takes Wrecker all of thirty seconds of searching the Marauder to find you sitting with Echo, in the midst of a deep conversation… not that that is particularly important to Wrecker at this moment. He wastes no time butting into your conversation, completely cutting off Echo and blurting out how he needs to tell you something really important.

Thankfully, Echo knows better than to hang around when Wrecker is hyper and makes up an excuse to leave, giving Wrecker space to confess his feelings to you.

You don’t even get the time to ask why Wrecker’s so worked up before he starts rambling, telling you all about how you make him feel and how he didn’t understand what this was at first but that now he finally does.

“It’s because I like you!” he exclaims, a wide smile across his face ”As in I like like you… which I should’ve figured out a while ago but I know now and I want you to know too!”.

He blurts all of this out without a second thought. Wrecker has absolutely no hesitation in confessing his feelings to you. The way he sees it, Wrecker knows you and he’s positive that even if you don’t feel the same way, you won’t let this get in the way of your friendship.

In fact that’s yet another aspect of you that Wrecker loves; no matter what, you never make him feel judged or insecure in your friendship.

When he’s finally done (and slightly out of breath from talking so much), Wrecker opens his arms to you, a smile plastered across his face and hope gleaming in his eyes as he asks “So? Whaddya think?”.

ECHO

This is a completely new feeling for Echo and even though he knows what this feeling is, he’s not keening on expressing it.

It’s not that Echo is insecure or still trying to figure out his emotions, it’s just that he really likes having you as his friend, someone who truly knows him and a person he can always rely on.

Why risk that by confessing he wants more?

Unfortunately, while Echo doesn’t want to risk your friendship, he isn’t exactly the best at dealing with his crush either.

He knows he’s terrible at hiding his feelings when he’s around you and so Echo starts to distance himself, hoping his crush will fade if you’re not spending as much time together.

But now he’s created a new problem. It’s pretty obvious that he’s avoiding you and now you’re left wondering what you’ve done wrong that’s caused Echo to act like this…

...spoiler alert: this is yet another quick drabble...

It’s nearly been a full rotation since Echo last spoke to you. Why? You wish you knew, presuming you must have irritated him in some way. Although you hate to admit it, this is becoming a recurring event; one minute you and Echo are getting along like a house on fire but then the next, he shuts down and hardly utters a word to you.

It’s a frustrating situation but you’re not annoyed at Echo, just the predicament you’ve found yourself in. Despite Echo being the one who created such a confusing turn of events, you could never blame him, not when he means so much to you.

Sighing, you decide to confront him “Ok, can you just tell me what I did so I can fix this?”. Your words slice through him, making Echo freeze for a moment before he tries to play this off “Fix what?”.

With your hand gesturing to both him and you, you let out a frustrated huff “This! I know you’ve been avoiding me lately, I just don’t understand why”.

Echo knows this is his moment, his time to finally confront his feelings and tell you how he feels… but he can’t. He has no idea how to say it or if he even should, especially when a confession of that magnitude could jeopardise your friendship.

“Echo,” you whine, sensing his hesitation “please, just tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can make this better”.

What you’ve done wrong? Your words shock him, his eyes widening as the hesitation that once clouded them disperse. “What? No, no you haven’t done anything wrong,” he assures you, chuckling under his breath as he continues “how could you have?”.

Now it’s your turn to ask “what?”, unsure if Echo added that last part as a snarky insult or genuine question. Thankfully you’re not left wondering for long, a comforting warmth glowing in his eyes.

“You’re right, I’ve been distant but I promise, it’s not because of anything you did…” Echo opens his mouth a few times, trying his best to word this next part correctly “You’re just… so caring, always there for us no matter what and I swear, I didn’t mean to avoid you… sometimes I just think about how much I like you and it’s like I forget how to be normal around you”.

He’s really hoping you get what he’s saying without making Echo explicitly state how he feels. Your reaction is hard to read, expression completely neutral as Echo’s words sink in. Just as his brain starts to spiral, internally cringing at his so-called confession, you smile at him, giving Echo all the reassurance he needs without uttering a single word and suddenly everything in the galaxy feels right again.

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair is well aware he has a crush on you.

It’s something he begrudgingly had to admit to himself a few months ago, though he has no plans to confess his feelings for you anytime soon.

He actually enjoys the dynamic you two have formed, one full of mutual respect as well as constant teasing and bickering. Sure, you get under his skin sometimes, making him genuinely annoyed but that’s the fun of it.

Sometimes Crosshair wonders if he should just tell you how he feels but he has too much fun goading you and seeing how much he can rile you up. If he confesses his feelings to you then he’s giving you an edge, something you could use to tease him with, which is something Crosshair is very reluctant to allow.

Besides, Crosshair doesn't see why he should put himself in the vulnerable position of confessing his feelings for you.

The way he sees it, if you feel the same way and truly want to be with him then you should be the one to initiate it… yeah, he’s very stubborn.

...news just in, another quick drabble is rapidly approaching...

“Crosshair, just leave me alone” you bark, throwing your hands up out of sheer frustration. You’ve never understood why he acts this way, nor do you think you ever will.

“Leave you alone so you can ruin another blaster?” he goads, his voice irritatingly calm. That only riles you up even more, your jaw clenching. You were trying to do a good thing and take care of some miscellaneous chores, which included cleaning one of the spare blasters. As it turns out, using droid oil instead of blaster oil can be a detrimental mistake that can end up corroding the metal.

You were trying to do a good thing but you made a mistake, fine, you can accept that. But the way Crosshair tells you this vital piece of information? The way he sat down and watched you clean the blaster for a full five minutes before putting you out of your misery and telling you you’re actually damaging the blaster? That stupid damn smirk on his face? Now that, that you can’t accept.

“Whatever,” you huff, your shoulders becoming square as you go to storm past him. But you don’t get very far, Crosshair’s hand quickly latching on to your upper arm and stopping your movements.

His grip is firm but not intimidating, enough to let you know he isn’t ready for you to storm off just yet without making the sudden contact seem daunting.

“I’m trying to help” he hisses at you, his voice dropping an octave.

“By making fun of me?” you scoff.

Crosshair holds your gaze, neither one of you backing down. Though his grip remains unyielding, his expression falters for a moment. His hardened look falls for just a mere few seconds, his gaze becoming soft and uncertain.

Despite Crosshair being an ass, you know what he said is true. He is trying to help, in his own frustratingly annoying way. But there’s more to this, the lingering uncertainty prompting your own hesitant feelings to surface.

You break out of his grasp with a sharp tug of your arm and before Crosshair has time to process your abrupt action, his eyes go wide as you move even closer to him. Leaning up, you kiss his cheek. A gesture so simple and yet so telling.

Trying your best to keep your annoyed tone from earlier, you shrug as you mumble “Just don’t be such a jerk about it next time” before you slip past him, leaving Crosshair to deal with his confusing emotions alone.

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crackedpumpkin · 1 year

Note

Okay how about Cole dating f!reader and one of her ways of showing affection is by making flower crowns for him

Flowers and nature in general being one of her favorite things in life

Hello lovely!! I'll be real, this is the fastest ask I've ever written, with a record-breaking one and a half hours lmao

I hope you enjoy this!!! And thank you for letting me know because I didn't receive the ask the first time (Thanks tumblr.)

|| ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ || ᴄᴏʟᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴋᴇꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

“Another?”

Cole wakes up to flower petals tickling his nose. He lets out a loud sneeze, startling Kai awake. The fire ninja groans, covering his head with his pillow in an attempt to escape the rising sun.

The earth ninja takes the flower crown you had snuck onto his chest in his sleep, a soft smile gracing his lips when he realizes you had probably put it there before you left for work.

His fingers gently brush against the soft pink freesia, now wide awake as he sits up.

You usually went to work at five a.m. on the weekdays, but you only needed to stay there till three p.m. since your job was mainly remote. However, your supervisor was in a different country at another timezone, and you needed to be at the office to look professional.

You despised it, and so did Cole.

He’d notice when you slipped out from under the covers, your side of the bed gradually turning cold. His arms felt empty without you, with your head snug under his and tucked into the crook of his neck.

You hated it too, leaving the comfort of his arms and bed the last thing you wanted before he woke up. So you resorted to leaving little gifts for him before heading off for work. Flower crowns, to be exact.

The habit had started before you, and Cole even started dating. You used to come over to hang out with Jay, the bubbly ninja eager to beat you in every video game he possessed. You had met him in a games store, ready to purchase the latest fighting game.

You noticed a crowd around a gaming machine set up for demos and went over to look. That’s when you spotted the ninja in his blue gi practically smashing the buttons on his controller, earning himself a new high score.

You couldn’t let him take your place as the reigning champion of the game, so you stepped up, challenging him to a match where you utterly destroyed him.

That’s when he invited you for a rematch, a friendly rivalry that sparked your friendship.

When you arrived at the monastery for the first time, you were intimidated by all the ninjas, including their sensei. Though he was kind, it was slightly unnerving how he looked at you with a sense of foreboding.

And then you met Cole.

— — — — — — — —

“Jay, what’re you having for dinner?”

A deep voice startles you out of your concentration, but you don’t dare look up, too engrossed in beating Jay.

“Uh, I dunno, anything, I guess. What’re you getting?” Jay says, eyes trained on the screen. You gnaw on your bottom lip in thought, mentally narrowing down who you had already met and whose attractive voice it could be.

You had already met Zane, Lloyd, and Nya. So that only left either Kai or Cole. It couldn’t be the fire ninja, though, you had seen him being interviewed a while back, and his voice had a slightly higher pitch. This one had more of a baritone quality, a slight rasp at the end that made your stomach do funny little flips.

So this had to be Cole.

You risk a quick glance, doing a double take. Your eyes unashamedly rake over the stranger’s muscular build, catching yourself ogling his biceps. You shake your head, cheeks flushing and praying that neither has caught you staring.

Jay was still focused on the game, and Cole (you assume) was chugging down a glass of water. You find it hard to swallow, noticing how his skin has a glowing sheen from all the sweat. He had probably come back from a workout.

You tear your gaze away before he notices, still feeling the heat in your cheeks. You hear him set down the glass with a soft sigh, your body tense.

Is your hair okay? Did you look homeless? Did he notice you staring?

Your mind races with thoughts until the words ‘Game Over’ flashes on the screen, a victorious shout from Jay snapping you out of your thoughts. You groan, tossing the controller to your side.

“Who’s this?” You turn, willing the flush in your cheeks and neck to subside.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you guys. Y/n, this is Cole. Cole, this is Y/n, my newest rival!”

“Is that really what I’m being introduced as?” You grin in a joking manner, eliciting a shrug from your friend.

“Cool. Are you sticking around for dinner? Zane might be cooking tonight.” Cole looks straight at you, waiting for an answer.

You’re speechless, managing a nod.

Were you just invited to dinner? With the ninja, no less??

— — — — — — — —

“Here.” You place a flower onto Jay’s head, and he blinks several times before pulling it out of his hair.

“Is this mine?” He asks innocently, and you nod in response.

“HA! Suck it, Kai! You’re gonna be the last to get one!” He shouts across the ship, holding it up triumphantly as you roll your eyes with an amused smile.

You had started the habit of giving flowers and little trinkets you found in nature to the ninjas. Zane was the first to receive one, a tiny acorn you had picked up during your walks in the park to recharge your social battery.

He had cooked a marvelous dinner, and you had randomly given it to him to express your appreciation. He had taken it with a confused yet thankful smile and proudly showed it to the rest during dessert.

The rest of the ninjas became more invested in seeing who was the next one to receive anything. You had triggered their curiosity and anticipation once you had given Nya a beautiful piece of sea glass you had picked up at the beach. She treasured it like it was a diamond, keeping it on her dresser along with her jewelry.

Now, Jay had his small trinket.

Kai was next. He had made the time to help you go grocery shopping when your other friends were busy, driving you there and back in his car. He helped you unload the groceries, thinking nothing of it until you returned to your room for a brief moment, returning with a preserved amber leaf paperweight.

“This is mine?” He asks, wide-eyed. He takes it from your hands when you grin, admiring the flickers of orange in the paperweight, the colours resembling the sparks of a fire. He wraps you up in a brief hug, excited to go home and show it off to the rest.

“Looks like Lloyd and Cole are the last to receive anything.” Kai chuckles, reveling in the fact that he had received it before they did.

Your sheepish grin gives it away. His eyes widened. “Just Lloyd?”

You shake your head with an embarrassed flush.

“Just Cole??”

— — — — — — — —

Truth be told, it was challenging to decide what to give the earth ninja. He was the most put together, the most vigilant of them all.

And the most attractive.

You had briefly considered a smooth pebble, its midnight shade reminding you of his gi. But that wasn’t good enough. You could imagine the disappointment in his eyes, comparing his stone with the other gifts you had gotten the rest of them.

Besides, it was too cliche. A rock? For the Earth ninja?

You’d rather bury yourself six feet under.

You were sitting on a mat near the pond in the monastery, having been invited on a small picnic in the sunny weather. You had gathered an assortment of flowers in front of you, starting to absentmindedly weave together the stems into a flower crown.

The ninjas were chatting away, and their senseis were sitting on the wooden floor of the small pavilion nearby, sipping on tea and watching their students fondly. You were almost done, looping the last flower through the stems.

“Is that mine?”

Your breath hitches when you glance up, the shy yet boyish smile on Cole’s lips making your heart flutter. He sits down beside you, peering over your shoulder to get a better look at the flower crown you hold loosely in your hands.

“Y-yeah.” You hope he doesn’t catch the stutter, though a slight upwards quirk of his lips suggests otherwise.

“That’s a relief,” he laughs, leaning back with his face tilted towards the sun, “I was starting to think you had forgotten about me.”

Your cheeks fill with a familiar heat, shaking your head with wide eyes. “No! I’d never forget.” You suppress an embarrassed groan at how your words came out, but you’re left breathless when you notice the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“That’s good then,” He murmurs, peeking an eye open with a small smile.

You bite down on your bottom lip in thought, summoning up all your courage to reach upwards and place the completed flower crown on the top of his raven-black hair, fingers brushing against his bicep. (Definitely not on purpose, of course. A total accident.)

He grins, sitting upright.

“Nice crown, Cole!” Jay giggles, drawing the attention of the other ninja.

“Why thank you, it was a gift.” He pauses to send a wink your way, but you look down quickly, flustered by the sudden action though you can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your lips.

You look back up as he saunters to the rest of the group, showing off his present. You watch how he laughs at something Kai says, your gaze soft as he glances back at you. You start like a deer caught in headlights. However, he doesn’t look away, nodding absentmindedly at Jay’s remark that goes unheard.

Your mind is blank, a single thought floating around inside.

Flower crowns look good on him.

#ninjago #ninjago x reader #ninjago cole x reader #cole x reader #cole brookstone x reader #ninjago x yn #ninjago x female reader #cole brookestone x female reader

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heavenlyvision · 5 months

Note

ahh yay !! okay sooo… vamp!Tomas x fem!reader where tomas and the reader both like each other but never really said anything because they are both shyyy but after tomas gets turned by nitara tomas becomes a lot more cockier and confident causing him to cockily confess his feelings !! (smut? 🤍)

ty lovely and ofc have a good day/night <3

I love this request! I have written far more for it than I initially thought I was going to, I got carried away and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you like it anon! Thank you for gracing my inbox <333 sorry it took me so long to fulfil this request. I wish you a lovely day/night and I hope this lives up to your expectations :)

Dearest

Wc: 6k

Pairing: Vamp!Tomas x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angsty for like a minute, thigh grinding, cunnilingus (over the panties 🤭), p in v sex, creampie, spanking (1), I think that is all :)

Harbouring an unrequited crush for a man that you would describe as one of your closest friends is one of the most difficult things you’ve had to do in your adult life, and you have not had an easy life. So, it feels a little bit ridiculous how trying this has been for you.

Tomas is someone you hold in high regard, his skills, his generosity, his kindness in spite of his losses, you could ramble on about him and all the reasons you like him forever. Unlucky for his brother Kuai Liang, that means you torture him with your seemingly endless growing affections.

“He brought me back my favourite–”

“–Yes, I know, I was there with him.” Kuai Liang sighs, this is the third time you’ve brought up Tomas in the last ten minutes.

Tomas had brought you back your favourite baked goods on his last trip into town, it made your chest feel full with how kind the action was. He remembered your favourite treat, and he went out of his way to get it. He thinks about you, even when you aren’t with him.

“I’m sorry Kuai, I’m just really happy.” You feel embarrassed about how much you’re gushing, but you can’t help it. There is no one else you can talk to about this, and you need to talk about it with someone.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he smiles apologetically at you, “but you know, you should just tell him how much you like him.”

“I can’t do that! What if he doesn’t like me back? And then I’ve ruined our friendship over my silly feelings.” There’s too much for you to lose if you confess to him.

Kuai Liang refrains from a deep eye roll, he’s about to say something but Tomas walks up to you both.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” He’s just finished some training with Hanzo, he looks tired.

Kuai sits and says nothing, waiting for you to answer him, “We’re just hanging out, drinking tea.” You motion the teacup up at him to see.

He nods his head, smiling at you, “Got enough for me?”

Kuai pours him a cup before getting up, “I’ve got to go meet with Harumi, thanks for the tea.” He nods his head down at you and pats Tomas on the shoulder as he walks away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in reference to the gift he brought back.

He moves to sit down next to you on the bench, “No thanks necessary, I knew it was your favourite, and I was in the area.”

He lied just now, Kuai had told you that they would’ve been home an hour earlier, but he went out of his way to find your favourite bakery.

You take a sip of your tea, smiling into the cup and humming your reply to him.

You ask, “How did training go?”

“Well, Hanzo is improving fast, I am sure it won’t take him long to beat me in a fight,” he chuckles, his pride in Hanzo displayed in it.

“I am sure he could, though I am sure I could beat you in a fight too.” You’re teasing, you are capable but not on par with Tomas.

He smiles at you, “You probably would win but I think that’s because you would play dirty.”

“Absolutely,” he knows you too well, any way to win.

You both sit and drink tea while talking, until you run out of tea, and then you’re both just talking. It gets late quickly but you both never seem to run out of things to say, and even when you do, you’ll say anything just to be able to talk to him for a little bit longer.

“I should probably head to bed now, it’s getting late,” you tell Tomas, hours have passed since he sat down.

He looks into your eyes, like he has something pressing to tell you but eventually settles on saying, “Okay, thank you for tea.”

“Thank you for my treats,” you lean into his side, and he holds you there. Both engaged in a side hug.

“You are most welcome, dearest.”

The way he calls you dearest makes your heart rate spike; he makes you feel like you are genuinely dear to him, and it makes you giddy.

You move past it, “I will see you tomorrow?” you ask him, mouth muffled in his shirt.

He replies, “Yes but it might be late, Kuai and I both have to help Lui Kang with something.”

So vague with his missions, trying to shield you from the truth you suppose. You always end up asking Kuai about them anyways, and he tells you, so there isn’t really any point in keeping it from you. It’s sweet that he cares to try though.

“Be safe.” You tell him.

“Always.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

That was the last time you saw Tomas, he left for his mission and Kuai came back alone. It’s something that haunts you, you remember how distraught you were. You were told he was turned by Nitara, which means he’s out there somewhere, you just don’t know where. Don’t know what he’s doing. But your home feels empty and lifeless these days.

All you do is spend the days waiting for the next, an endless, mind-numbing cycle. Kuai and Harumi visit you often, checking in on you, making tea. They’re worried about you, you know that. But you’re worried about Tomas.

Lui Kang and Kuai Liang have been putting a copious amount of effort into finding Tomas, wanting to help him, but Tomas doesn’t want to be found. And he’s making it abundantly clear. Leaving a trail of half dead people, that have messages from him, telling them to stop looking.

This isn’t something you learnt from Kuai; you’ve heard the whispers in the village about it though. Kuai has now picked up Tomas’ old habit of not telling you the extent of things, but you can read between the lines. Tomas is moving closer to the Shirai Ryu’s village, for what reason you don’t know but you feel conflicted about it. You want to see him, but he is not Tomas anymore, not really. Not the man you…

…The bond between yourself and Tomas had always been unbreakable, at least you thought it had been. With the way things are now, you don’t know who will be standing in front of you, if you ever see him again.

Due to Tomas’ movements getting closer to the village people have been assigned to keep tabs on you. Kuai hasn’t said anything, but people roam outside your house now, frequently. All hours, they will stroll by, you think they aren’t meant to be noticed but when you live with ninja’s long enough, you start to notice them. You appreciate the consideration, but it’s not needed, even if he does show, you’ll handle it yourself.

There’s a knock on your door, three polite raps against the solid wood. Right on time, 3pm in the afternoon. Every day, you get visited by Kuai, sometimes with Harumi, sometimes with Hanzo, but more often than not, alone.

Sighing you move from your couch to the door and pull it open, “Afternoon, Kuai.”

You pull it open the whole way, allowing his large frame to move past you. He walks into the kitchen and starts boiling some water.

“Good afternoon,” he replies.

The afternoon with him carries out the same way it has for the past couple months, he talks to you, trying to get you to open up. You turn it on him and try to get him to talk, about how he’s feeling, about Tomas’ last sighting, his plans for if they find him. But just like yourself, he doesn’t disclose anything. So, you both end up drinking tea in silence, mention the weather and then part ways.

Some days he is more stubborn than others, he stays longer, pushing you harder, he’s feeling that way this afternoon.

“I know you must be upset and missing him; you can talk to me about him, it might help.” He presses you; he’d love to hear you talk about Tomas the way you used to.

It makes you sad to talk about him though, “I don’t have anything to say Kuai, you know that.”

“That is a little hard to believe,” there is humour in his voice, it pulls a small smile from you.

It is rather ironic, going from never being able to shut up about him, to never talking about him.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am fine,” you lie.

He knows and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, “You are not.”

“No… I’m not but neither are you.”

“I suppose not.” He sighs and takes a sip of his tea.

You think now is your time to mention, “Could you stop sending people to watch my house, it’s annoying and unnecessary.”

“I think it necessary,” he shoots back, but he caves a little, “I will send less and less frequently, but they will still watch out for you.”

You go to argue further, “I really don’t think it’s–”

“–I am not willing to compromise further on this matter.” He cuts you off.

“Fine.” You concede, too tired to argue with him. Always too tired.

He seems pleased with the progress he’s made with you though, finally getting you to budge the slightest bit. Admitting that you are not fine is enough for him today. He leaves with no argument, and you sit back on your couch, enjoying your solidarity.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

You’re in the shower when you hear someone rummaging around your living room, annoying, you think to yourself. It’s probably someone checking on you, though it’s odd they’re inside your house.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you move through the ensuite and into your bedroom. Locating the sword you keep hung on the wall, if it’s not someone checking up on you, you may need protection. You pull it down, keeping it sheathed. Slowly you move towards the living area where the noise is coming from.

You sneak through the house as quietly as possible and come up behind the intruder, hands on the sword, ready to unsheathe it and strike if necessary. But then you realise the silhouette of the intruder is very familiar.

He turns around and faces you, a faux shocked look on his face, pretending to be frightened by you holding a sword.

Your voice comes out far more timid than you would’ve liked, “Tomas?”

“Ah, you caught me.” He holds his arms up in surrender, sly grin plastered on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to visit you, dearest.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing, as if he’s questioning you questioning his presence.

Your eyes squint at him, “Don’t call me that.”

“You never use to mind it,” his face twists into a fake sad expression.

You’re still in an attack stance, “That was then, I don’t know who you are now.”

“Please put the sword down, it really isn’t frightening, especially since you’re in nothing but a towel.” His eyes look you up and down, appreciating your scantily clad body in a fluffy towel.

Your lip pulls up into a grimace, “Don’t look at me, turn around.”

He waves a hand at you dismissively, “Chill out, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Why are you here?” You’re quick to reply.

His presence is genuinely confusing, he didn’t want to be found by his own brother, but he came back here to break into your house and look at your living room furnishings?

“Like I said, I’m here to see you, I’ve missed you dearly… dearest.” He flashes you a cheeky smile.

He’s different, not right, not… himself. It’s uncanny and off putting to you. He is not the same kind man you called your best friend.

“I don’t believe you.”

His smile drops, “I know, but I’m not lying.”

He moves towards you, but you take a step back, hand pulling on the handle of the sword, ready to unsheathe it. He stops at your reaction; and rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I really am not going to hurt you, I wanted to give you that,” his head motions towards your side table, your favourite baked goods sitting atop it.

Your eyes round in shock, why would he go to the effort? You stop your thoughts before they get too hopeful, he could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security, and it might work. He looks mostly the same, not quite right but his likeness is there. He’s pale, bloody, an odd marking on his forehead, and fangs you can spot when he speaks, but the same.

It’s confusing you; you want to be happy to see him, but you don’t want to let yourself feel it if he isn’t quite right. If he’s going to hurt you or worse. You are happy he’s alive though, there might be a way to help him.

“Why did you bring me that?” You ask, also motioning towards the treats on the table.

“Because they’re you’re favourite,” he shrugs, “can you please put the sword down, this is getting a bit ridiculous.”

You have a baffled look on you face, “You’re the one breaking and entering??”

“Hey! I didn’t break anything.” He looks offended, hand on his chest. He sighs and rolls his eyes again, “I don’t know what to offer you here to make you feel better, dear.”

“I don’t really know either.” You consider what would make you feel better about him, other than him leaving. “Getting dressed… would make me feel better.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” He’s flirting with you, brazenly.

“Stay here… or leave… but don’t follow me.”

He has a bored look on his face, but he shrugs in agreeance.

At his reaction you begin backing away slowly, watching him as you leave the room. He tilts his head curiously at you as you do. When you can no longer see him, you shuffle quickly to your room.

You rustle through drawers to find clothes, settling on pants and a t-shirt. Something you can move around in if you end up having to defend yourself. You pick up your sword and exit your bedroom.

As you come back into the living area you see him sitting on an armchair in the corner, the one facing your larger couch. You move around the furniture to sit on said couch facing him. Your posture a stark contrast to his, you’re sitting up straight and alert. While he is lounging, legs spread wide, spine reclined against the back of the armchair. He’s fully relaxed and you’re… not.

“Still have the sword I see,” he notes.

Your grip tightens on the hilt, “I am not ready to trust you.”

“No, I wouldn’t think you would be.” His head rolls to the side quickly, listening, “are you expecting guests?”

You know what he’s hearing, your friendly watchers must be coming by to check on you.

“Kuai Liang started assigning people to come by my house, I didn’t understand why previously, I do now.” You reply casually with a wave of your hand.

“Mmm, he is taking care of you?” His question seems loaded, like he might be simultaneously pleased and displeased at the same time, no matter your response.

“Yes, he comes by regularly to check on me, he is worried.” You answer honestly, based on his hearing he’d probably be able to tell if you lied to him.

His eyes squint slightly, his reaction telling you nothing about his thoughts or feelings, “You going to alert them of my presence?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

He seems a little confused, “Why not?”

“I’m not getting any information from Kuai anymore, he tells me nothing. If I let them take you, I doubt I’ll be updated of anything.”

“Very serious like this, you used to be much kinder to me.”

Your eyebrows raise at him, “I could say the same to you.”

“Fair enough,” he smiles at you, still eyeing you even though you are nowhere near as undressed as earlier.

“Stop it,” you tell him.

His gaze climbs up your body and then back onto your eyes, “Stop what?”

“Stop that,” your hand waves in circles around his face, referencing the way he’s been looking at you.

His head leans to the side, “Why?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “Because I don’t know what it means.”

“I like you, is what it means.” His smile is as sweet as he can muster, it’d be sweeter if he didn’t have fangs.

Huh? Huh? What the hell? He likes you, is that possible? You must have the most bewildered expression on your face because he begins chuckling at you.

“Don’t laugh!” You’re frowning at him now.

“Sorry, sorry…” He waves his hand at you, “I didn’t think you’d look so confused, you’ve just made a very cute face.”

You sigh deeply, he’s making your heart rate pick up, you need to control it, “I don’t believe you.” You say in reference to his declaration.

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but it’s the truth. I came back to see you because I miss you and I miss you because I like you. I always have.” His confession is making you feel flushed. He’s saying things you would’ve liked to have heard ages ago.

“Why? Why tell me this now?”

“Was too scared to tell you before, now it doesn’t matter as much, our friendship isn’t exactly in a great place, no?” He gestures to his whole being with his hands, as if to demonstrate the reason for that.

“I don’t see myself trusting you, I hope you know that.” Honestly, mutual trust isn’t something you can foresee in both your futures.

But that’s obviously the opposite for Tomas, “I am pretty confident that I can change your mind, I got your heart rate to rise earlier. My confession bring up some hidden feelings?”

You’re interested, “How do you plan on changing my mind?” You ignore the second part of his sentence.

“I will come by as often as I have to, for as long as I have to, until you trust me again.” He seems earnest at least, but you don’t know if you have rose tinted glasses on when it comes to him.

“Do as you please, I have a feeling you’re going to anyways.” You huff at him, spine becoming less rigid.

He smiles at you, eyes bright, “I appreciate the permission, anyhow.”

His visit ends quickly after that last conversation, having made headway with you made him pleased enough to leave. He did promise he would be back the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. The promise thrills you, much to your contention.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Tomas stayed true to his promise, he comes by, every night without fail and has been doing so for the last few months. He never stopped flirting with you the whole time, making his affection for you perfectly clear. There are only so many ways you can brush him off and change topics though.

He sniffs the air, “I hate how much Kuai comes around, always smells like him in here, ruins your scent.”

Your eyes roll at him, “Well, he’s about as stubborn as you are about visiting. Must run in the family.”

You stopped holding your sword every time he came round about a month into his visits, believing he probably wasn’t going to bodily harm you. It was never far from you though, now it stays in the lounge, not close but not far. He has succeeded in slowly building some trust between the two of you.

In the kitchen you’re waiting for the kettle to boil, Tomas comes up behind you. Leaning down he inhales your scent, not so close to touch but close enough to have your heart pounding in your chest.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Smelling you.”

“Yeah, I can see that, why are you sniffing me?”

“You smell nice,” he’s still standing close to you, chest brushing your back.

You turn around and place a palm on his chest, aiming to push him back but he doesn’t budge. His hand comes up and he places it over top of your own. His eyes looking intently into yours, as you’re looking up at him, you’re struck with the realisation that your feelings for him haven’t left you. He’s changed and so have your feelings, but you still like him.

His eyes flit down to your lips, he begins moving in closer to you. Giving you ample time to pull away if you don’t want him to kiss you. You don’t know if kissing him is a good idea, but it doesn’t matter anyways, the kettle starts squealing, alerting you of its boiled status.

His hand lets go of yours, the moment ruined. You turn quickly, feeling like your face is on fire. Happy to be able to hide your face from him, though you know he can definitely hear your beating heart working overtime.

You take the kettle off the stove and make a cup of tea for both you and Tomas, he never drinks it, but he asks for it every time and holds it for the entirety of his visit.

Later, after tea, as you’re washing up Tomas stands beside you. Ever since your guard dropped enough to let him get this close to you, he stays as close as you’ll allow. Always right by you, flirting, joking, watching.

“Do you want me to wash up?” He offers.

“No, thank you.” You continue, scrubbing at your dishware.

When you’re done you go to wipe your hands off, drying them. Tomas grabs you and spins you abruptly, a shocked gasp pulling from you at his speed and strength.

“I like you.” Is all he says.

Your eyes are wide with shock, “You’ve already said so.”

“I just had to tell you again, so you know.”

“You tell me every day, and you relentlessly flirt with me,” you remind him.

“Just checking you haven’t forgotten.”

“You don’t make that possible,” you raise a brow at him.

“That’s the idea,” he smiles cheekily at you.

His eyes dip to your lips again, the moment from earlier being recreated. You turn your head to the side, feeling shy under his watchful gaze.

“Your heart is racing,” he comments, moving his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I know, it is my heart.” You feel flush in the face.

He leans a bit closer, “And how does your heart feel about me?”

Ah, he’s fishing today. He has been very patient, not asking you your feelings towards him but he is curious. Especially since he can tell you enjoy his advances, or at least react to them viscerally.

“I reserve the right to not answer that.” You feel as though you’re being interrogated.

He finds your answer entertaining, “I think… you like me too, but you’re still not convinced you can trust me.”

Yep, he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, and he knows it. You go to answer him, try to cover for yourself but he’s quicker with his words.

Tone growing glib, he taunts, “Mmm, yeah, that was dead on, huh?”

His large hand come up and pulls your face back to his, holding you by your chin, between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face up, looking you directly in the eyes.

“Look at me and tell me, that you don’t like me.”

“I don’t like you,” you reply simply.

He scoffs, “Liar, I’ve grown on you.”

“Like a tumour, maybe,” you retort back.

He has a small smile on his face, “Now who is being stubborn?”

“Somehow, still you.” Your expression is one of defiance.

He rolls his eyes at you and groans, before grabbing your head on either side and pulling you into a kiss. It’s full and profound, and as he moves his head to the side, he licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss. A shocked mewl coming from you, one that he swallows down greedily.

Your heart feels like it might explode in your chest, and as he pulls away, he makes a note of it.

His forehead rests against yours, smiling cockily he asks, “Still don’t like me?”

“No,” you shake your head against him.

He captures your lips in another lustful kiss, devouring you whole, consuming the noises that escape you. Common sense eludes you, his kisses making you dizzy and unable to think properly. He walks you back into the corner of the kitchen bench, still cradling your face. Your hands coming up behind you, resting on the bench top. As a result, your chest presses further into him.

One of his knees slots between your legs, pinning you to the spot. His kisses take your breath away and you have to pull back to breathe. Huffing slightly at his insistent manner of kissing.

“Seems to me, that you like me.” He states.

“You’re mistaken.” You retort.

His head moves to your neck, inhaling the length of it, “it smells like you like me.”

Low blow on his behalf, his observation of your growing arousal for him makes your skin set alight. An embarrassing observation for him to make and he knows it. His thigh slots higher, resting up against your cunt. The contact makes you jump lightly, your teeth biting your lip to stifle your audible reaction.

His hands move to your hips as he leans down and kisses you again. His lips serving as a distraction so he can use the grip he has on your hips to encourage you to grind down on his thigh. You get lost in the feeling, the stimulation sending jolts of pleasure up your spine, the sounds you make spilling from you freely.

He rips his mouth away from you suddenly, before you can complain he pulls your pants down, you step out of them. Standing in front of him in nothing but your shirt and panties. He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your thighs apart, just enough so his face can fit between your legs. His nose resting up against your pussy over your panties, he inhales deeply.

You gasp out at him, “Tomas!”

“Mmmsorry, you smell so fucken good.” He speaks against your cunt, muffling his words.

This display is mortifying to you and also serving to fuel your arousal. He hums pleasantly at your reaction. His mouth opens, sucking over your underwear, wetting them further. His thumbs pull your pussy lips apart, giving himself more access to your arousal. He’s lapping at your hole over your underwear, nose rubbing up against your clit as he licks at you.

You’re squirming above him, gasping for air at the pleasure he’s giving you. He grows more fervent against you, your cunt leaking from the pleasure. The smell and taste of you sending him into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop making out with your cunt over your underwear. Your legs are borderline shaking with your building orgasm.

“Tomas – ngh,” you’re trying to warn him of your impending orgasm.

One of your hands reaches for his hair, grabbing on, your hips beginning to faintly grind against his face. He doesn’t pull away to acknowledge your words, just continues slurping at your cunt, humming at you in confirmation.

The noises spilling from you reach a higher pitch, coming closer together. Your eyes are wet as they close tight against the intensity of your orgasm. When you cum it’s with a bite of his name followed by a large inhale of breath. Legs shaking, if he had not been gripping your thighs, you would’ve fallen to the floor in front of him.

He doesn’t stop as you cum, or even after, continuing to lick at you enthusiastically, aftershocks running through your veins. You twitch at the continued stimulation he provides. He growls against you, an inhuman sound that spikes your heart rate, and your excitement.

The sight of him between your legs, gripping your thighs open and feasting on your wet cunt could have you passing out. He huffs frustrated against you, and he rips your underwear off, actually tearing them off your body. You can’t even complain because he’s put his mouth back on your bare cunt. Drinking up all of the slick and cum from your cunt, he’s licking you clean, you might actually faint.

Tugging at his hair harsher, you push him back, “mm sensitive, stop.” You gasp out at him, words slurred together slightly.

Thankfully, he pulls away but stays on his knees, watching you quiver in front of him. His mouth finished eating you, but his eyes haven’t. He inhales one last time before standing up in front of you.

Cocky smile plastered on his face, “Divine, let me continue?”

You shake your head at him, “No, I will actually faint.”

He preens at that, delighted by your answer, “Are you ready to admit you like me?”

“No,” stubborn for no reason at this point. It’s clear to the both of you, you definitely like him.

He chuckles dryly at you, and then he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half against the bench top. His hands run over your body, down your back and over your ass cheeks, he pulls them back to stare at your cunt, he whistles at the sight of it. And you struggle against him, humiliated by his actions.

“Will you let me fuck your tight pussy?”

You feel red and raw, his direct question mortifying you, mortifying you because, “yes.” You will let him.

He lets out an amused sound that turns into a growl at the sight of you bent over and waiting for him. Rustling can be heard from behind you as he pulls out his cock. He runs it through your folds, using your cunts prior orgasm to lube it. You rock back against him, rutting down on his dick. It sends shudders down your spine, the pleasure already plenty and he’s not inside you.

“Hold still,” he holds his hand on your back firmly, keeping you in place.

His other hand on his cock, running his tip through your folds before notching it at your hole. Slowly splitting you in two.

All he lets out is, “fffff–”

You clench at the stretch, clamping down on his cock.

“–UCK!” He lets out at your tightening pussy, “gotta relax, or I’ll never – nghf – make it inside.”

You’re mewling and barely the tip is inside you, his hand reaches down and around to rub at your clit, trying to get you to relax.

“Thasss it, dear, fucken perfect… jus. like. that,” he sighs as you relax a bit.

He’s able to have his whole tip enter you, and then he starts rocking back and forth slowly, trying to fuck you open on the tip of his dick. Your legs already shaking and he’s not even close to halfway inside you.

He begins fucking his cock into you more, incrementally, it has pleasure wracking your body. Taking his time, rocking in and then out, slightly more in and then out, rinse and repeat. Until he’s finally fully seated inside you. The full feeling overwhelming you, you grind back against him, wanting more of the feeling.

“Tomas–”

“Hold still, and if it’s – hah – too much, tap me, okay?” He asks.

You nod your head at him, but he slaps your ass and says, “Words, dearest.”

“I will tap you if it’s too much – jus please – mmmmove.” You’re wiggling back against him, trying to gain some friction.

Both his hands pull your ass cheeks apart again, gazing down at the way you’re wrapped around him. A deep growl coming from inside his chest at the sight. Pulling back almost all the way out, he slams back into you, jolting your body forward against the counter. You have a feeling you’re going to have all kinds of bruises tomorrow morning.

He’s fucking you in earnest, roughly, inhuman and pleased noises coming from him. A wet slapping filling your kitchen along with your mewls and whines. You brace yourself on the counter and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

His hand moves up your body and grabs at the back of your neck, he pulls you up, holding you flush against his chest. Your head resting back against his shoulder. He’s fucking up into you, the change in position sliding you further down his dick.

The hand that pulled you up goes to the front of your neck, applying no pressure but holding you steady. His free arm moves from your hip to the front of your body, holding you against him, hand groping at your tit. His fingers pinch and play with your nipple, your cunt squeezing down on him at the sensation.

“Tell me, do you like mmme – ngh – now?” He whispers it against your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.

“Mmmmaybe – mmph – a little…” You confess.

He laughs and licks your ear, his thrusts never stopping or slowing. Your cunt starts to rhythmically pulse around his cock, you’re so close to cumming on just his cock, a sensation you’ve not felt before. Previously always cumming with the help of stimulation on your clit.

He taunts you, “Go on, cream all over – mmph – me, can feel you squeezing mmme.”

“Hah – Mm gonna–” You’re cumming, hard, on his dick. Your release creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His hands move to push you back against the bench top again, he needs to see the way you came all over him. He spreads your cheeks again to watch himself fuck you, to see the way you creamed all over him. Mesmerised by your cunt and the way it takes him; he’s chasing his own high now.

He’s fucking you harshly, aiming to topple headfirst into his own pleasure. You clamp down on him, pulling his own orgasm from him suddenly. He cums with a shout of your name and a string of profanities. Filling your cunt to the brim with his release, he continues thrusting, stuffing all his cum back into your pussy. He groans at the sight, dick twitching inside you.

He pulls out of you slowly; he tugs his pants back on before spinning you around and placing you up on the bench. He wets some napkins from your kitchen with warm water and gently wipes your thighs clean.

His fingers push some of the cum leaking out of your cunt back inside, “Keep that there.” He tells you.

You hold your hand over your pussy, as he runs down the hall and comes back with a fresh pair of underwear. He slides them up your legs and uses them to help keep his cum inside you. Your legs are shaking from the come down, eyes wet and dazed. You’d let him do almost anything to you right now, with the way he’s given you the two best orgasms of your life, you think he might’ve earned it.

You watch him move around your kitchen, he finds your previous pair of underwear and stuffs them inside his pocket. He looks back at you and smiles deviously. Then he moves to get you a glass of water.

He presents it to you, “Drink.”

You accept it gratefully, feeling parched, you drink it all. It dribbles down your chin with how you gulp it down. He smiles at you and wipes your chin clean.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him.

He’s smug, “Need me to carry you to bed, dearest?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

He obliges and carries you to bed, tucking you in. He won’t stay and he shouldn’t stay, though you find yourself hoping he would.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he says, practically reading your mind. He crawls into bed beside you, on top of the covers.

“Thank you, Tomas.”

He smiles kindly at you, “No thanks necessary.”

You fall asleep quickly that night. Fully trusting him and even feeling safe with him beside you. When you wake the next morning, he is gone but he’s left a note.

It reads, “I’ll be back tonight, dearest.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: This is not my best writing, but I find myself a bit fond of it, maybe because it’s a different character, a bit of a change up is nice. I did write almost an extra 3k than what I initially planned lmao. I find the need to add more plot in my stories. Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed, my requests are open if you want a story like this one or if you want to share any thoughts, feelings, anything really, I am open for asks!! <333

#ask vision #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader smut #tomas vrbada x reader smut #smoke x reader #smoke x reader smut #fanfic #tomas x you #mk1 smut #smut #mk1 2023

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

The Shadow of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Fairytale/Vampire AU, soft!dark)

Word Count: 6,017

Summary: James has spent many of his long years in despair...until he finds you.

Author’s Note: This is for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon a Time” celebration and 10K milestone! Congratulations lovely and thank you for hosting! 💕This is also for Lilo and Aqua’s “Myths and Legends” writing challenge @sparkledfirecracker @tumblin-theworldaway thank you both for hosting!💕 The fairytale that inspired this is Beauty and the Beast. I also have references to the book Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I used a lot of Vampire myth and legend, including some form of magic-charming- to keep the reader under control. James and his companions are definitely from a different era of time than the reader and they come off kind of fancy for that reason.

Warnings: mentions of b-loo-d, mind c-ontrol and magic charming, k-id-napping, built up tension, moments of f-ea-r, s-ucking b-loo-d, b-iting, but there is some softness laced in between all of it (18+ONLY)-if I miss any please let me know :)

The banner above is mine. It’s terrible because I’m terrible at banners. The edit on the left was made by my dear friend Nix, which is the opposite of terrible, it’s amazing 💕This photo below is all Seb, I take no credit for his gorgeousness.

The last rays of a dying sun filter through the ornate stained-glass windows of the estate and cast shimmers of fading color upon the dusty stone floor. The only other light is from a pair of blue eyes, so startling, they rival the beauty of the ancient artwork adorning the walls.

“You are sulking again,” a voice calls from the back of the room.

It receives no answer and there is no sound of footsteps as the other approaches, materializing next to the set of blue eyes.

“Are you going to spend all of eternity in this constant state of shadow?” the new voice asks.

James turns to his companion, the years of their friendship spread out over centuries, and asks, “isn’t that the very nature of our existence?”

Steven only stares ahead in answer before placing a placating hand on James’ shoulder. “You have the power to take what you want. You must make a choice. Stop lingering in this…purgatory.”

James only nods before his legs begin to vaporize and tendrils of dark mist crawl up his long body. His eyes are the last thing Steven sees, the blue piercing the black cloud before James is gone.

Steven drops his head then turns on his heel, walking briskly from the large room.

The bar is busier than usual tonight, full of tourists regaling in their visit and drunk locals cheering them on. You run from table to table, dodging sloshing pints and groping hands. When you finally find yourself back behind the bar you let out a long exhale and lean on the counter, smiling when your friend the bartender dashes past you for more glasses.

“Really hopping tonight,” Matt yells with a smile.

You laugh with an exaggerated wipe of your brow then grab your glass of cool water for a nice long drink. You take no notice of the pair of stunning blue eyes that follow your every move, their owner cloaked in shadow and hidden from the sight of most.

In the next hours that pass many of the patrons become too drunk to carry on a conversation and the travelers move on, so the bar is now quiet and you have time for your favorite activity. You reach under the bar top and retrieve your book, a smile gracing your features as you sit and open to your bookmark.

“Reading again?” Matt asks as he grabs himself a drink of water.

“Always,” you answer without looking up.

He’s silent for several moments until he leans down to whisper along your ear, “that man over there…he hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. Do you know him?”

You keep your head down as if you are still reading but slowly lift your eyes and search the room. At first you see nothing and your brow furrows in confusion.

“Matt, I don’t see…” you start to whisper, stopping short when your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the man he speaks of.

It’s as if the world around you fades away and you’re consumed by the presence of this stranger. Your breathing slows and at first all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, until his voices penetrates the veil, smooth like silk even as you stare at lips unmoving. It frightens you but you can’t seem to break away and it feels as though you’re being pulled toward him by an invisible string.

“Hey!” you suddenly hear your body shaking under the force of Matt’s hands.

You gasp loudly and grab hold of Matt’s arm, turning to him with wide and panicked eyes.

“You ok?” Matt asks, much more softly now, his features etched with concern.

“I…,” you start and swing your head back in the direction of the stranger but he seems to have disappeared into thin air. “I think so.”

Matt follows your line of sight and whispers, his shock evident, “he’s gone.”

You swallow hard and cling to Matt with trembling hands. “I swear it was like I was under a spell,” you say quietly.

“It looked like you were in a trance,” Matt explains before handing you more water.

“Have you seen him before?” Matt asks.

You don’t answer right away, a chill running down your spine as your mind races.

“I don’t know…it all felt eerily familiar but I never even got a look at him.”

“Did you frighten her again?” Steven grins when James pushes through the large double doors of the estate with a loud bang.

James shoots him a cold glare and Steven’s grin fades.

“She is always with that young man…Matt” James states, his distaste obvious in the way he says the name. “Who is he? Why does she stay with him?”

Steven waits before answering, clearly formulating a careful response.

“I have seen him,” Steven answers. “You have mentioned they work together…perhaps they are just friends.”

“She isn’t in love with him,” James states after a prolonged silence. “But he is in love with her.”

Steven takes a step toward James, resting both of his hands on James’ broad shoulders.

“Do not make any thoughtless actions James,” Steven warns. “You don’t want to lose her before you even have her.”

“You think she would be upset if I…disposed of him?”

James’ question makes Steven raise his brows with a wry smile.

“Fine…I won’t kill him,” James sighs. “But I will not allow him to stand in the way of what’s mine.”

The next few nights of work are uneventful and slow and by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve almost finished your book.

You feel his presence before you see him, a warm rush of awareness overwhelming your senses. You lift your gaze from the page and meet his incredible blue eyes. He’s handsome in a way that’s arresting and your heart starts to beat faster.

“Hello doll,” the man greets.

You stare at him, your mouth curving into a cautious smile.

He smiles back, his plush red lips spreading wide over white teeth.

“Have we met before?” you muse as you openly study him.

“I don’t believe so,” he answers. “I would never forget such a beautiful creature.”

Your eyes linger on his handsome features, his eyes standing out above all else, before you lower your lashes at his compliment.

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, as you close your book and hide it back under the bar.

“Please,” he says. “Red wine.”

You nod and go about pouring him some, setting the glass down carefully and noting how his long and thick fingers curl seductively around the stem.

“What book has you so captivated?” he asks as he swirls the liquid around the glass.

“Frankenstein,” you answer. “Have you read it?”

“I have.”

You instantly brighten at his answer and hold out your hand to introduce yourself. He takes it, filled with a sudden delirious hope as he dips his head to brush his cool lips across your knuckles.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the feel of his lips but thankfully you recover by the time he lifts his eyes back to yours.

“A pleasure doll. I’m James. James Barnes.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the recognition of his name.

“James,” you repeat in a soft murmur and he tenses at how keenly he wants to hear his name on your perfect lips again and again.

“So I do know you…sort of.”

You’d heard stories of the famous family but you always assumed they were nothing more than that…stories.

“You may have heard my name before, yes,” he acknowledges, “but I assure you that whatever you’ve heard isn’t quite the truth.

“Guess I’ll just have to find out for myself,” you reply.

James steels himself, hiding his pleasure at your words with a swift change of topic.

“How do you like the book so far?” he asks.

“I love it! It’s hauntingly beautiful and sad. I’m almost finished.”

With an agreeable nod he launches into a perfectly articulated and clever review of the book, much to your delight and you find yourself completely engrossed with his every word.

“You must come and see my library,” James tells you. “I have an extensive collection.”

You sigh at the thought, resting your elbows on the bar and leaning in close to him.

“I’d love that more than anything. I’ve always dreamed of having my very own library.”

His eyes flash, silver against his pale skin, and he brushes his fingers down your arm.

“You are most welcome any time doll. I think you would find my home has many things you would enjoy.”

Matt loudly calls your name, his tone sharp, and it startles you.

“Need some help down here,” he repeats, eyeing you suspiciously.

You pull yourself away from James, feeling slightly lightheaded but managing a smile.

“I apologize but I need to go help…”

“Of course doll,” James says smoothly, gritting his teeth with anger at the interruption.

“Perhaps I may request your presence at the ball I’m hosting next week. I can show you my library.”

You can’t hide your surprise at his invitation, your eyes filled with nervous anticipation.

“If you’d rather have a more private introduction I will understand,” he quickly adds.

“No, no,” you assure him once you recover. “But a ball…isn’t that old fashioned?”

You make sure to smile after you tell him this.

“Indeed it is!” he agrees with a smile. “You’ll find I can be very old fashioned…perhaps I should have used the term party.”

“There is much to do!” James bellows as Steven follows behind. “Everything needs to be cleaned and prepared. Nothing can be left undone!”

Steven rushes off to alert the others and begin the preparations while James stalks off to the library to make sure his most befitting gift is in order.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Matt asks as he follows you around your small bedroom. “You need someone to come with you to keep you safe! We hardly know this guy.”

You turn to him with a smirk.

“Well, anyone who enjoys books as much as I do can’t be all bad!” you exclaim as you look him over. “Now go find something to wear.”

When you arrive at James’ estate you tilt your head back to follow the grand height of the edifice. It looms darkly against the star filled sky, backlit by the shine of the moon.

“Wow, it’s bigger than I imagined,” you whisper to Matt.

“This place is insane! It looks like some creepy house from one of your books,” he jokes.

You elbow him before smoothing your hands down your dress and using the knocker to alert your presence.

The door swiftly opens to reveal a tall blonde with a sweet smile.

“Welcome,” he states, keeping his eyes on you. “James is expecting you.”

He finally moves his eyes to Matt and his lips turn down into a slight frown.

“You’ve brought a guest,” Steven states dryly.

You fidget with your hands and drop your head.

“I didn’t wan to come alone…” you start to say quietly.

“Do not fret darling,” Steven says kindly. “You were simply being smart. Please, come in.”

He reaches for your hand and you take his, stepping inside with Matt right behind you.

As Steven ushers you down the long hallway you take the opportunity to look around, noting the elaborately decorated walls, with bold colors but delicate carvings and when you pass a set of large floor to ceiling windows you notice a splash of vibrant color outside.

“Oh!” you exclaim, stopping to look. “You have a garden?”

Steven steps closer to you, admiring the blooms.

“We do,” he says proudly. “It is James’ second most prized possession…his library being the first.”

A bright smile graces your features at the mention of the library.

“And all these flowers bloom at night?” you ask, your forehead furrowed now in thought. “How strange.”

Steven clears his throat. “Why yes! Excellent observation my sweet. James prefers the beauty and fragrance of things…nocturnal.”

“Now come, we don’t want to be late.”

With that, Steven urges you down the hallway toward large wooden double doors. He pushes them open with ease and sweeps out his arm with a bow.

You give him an elegant nod of your head and enter. The domed ceiling is covered with magnificent frescoes and the candlelit wall sconces cast various hunting battles, landscape scenes, and jousts in an eerie glow.

“Wow,” you whisper, still looking up when you feel that familiar shiver creep down your spine.

That’s when you turn and see him. He approaches slowly, his tall and powerful body moving smoothly across the floor. He’s dressed formally and when he reaches you he bows with a flourish.

You’re momentarily stunned, the opulence of it all something you are not used to.

James holds out an inviting hand just as you hear the first note from an organ hidden above you, the melodic sound reverberating in the open space.

You reach for him, placing your fingers in his palm and smiling softly.

“If I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness,” he murmurs, quoting a line from Frankenstein.

“Oh that’s one of my favorites from the story!” you gush.

In a whirl you are quickly in his arms, one of his hands holding yours and the other placed at your lower back.

“I’m so delighted you came,” he says tenderly as his eyes wander over your face then sweep down your body. “You are a vision. The stars will be jealous of you tonight.”

If the use of one of your favorite lines didn’t already work his most recent words make you swoon and you clutch his hand more tightly, nibbling your bottom lip.

“James…” you begin but he spins you away before you can say more and when you’re back in his arms his face is only inches from yours and you’re at a loss for any other words.

He keeps you close and you can feel every inch of his hard body pressed to yours.

The sound of voices draws your attention away and you suddenly remember Matt.

“Oh!” you exclaim, “what about Matt?”

James smiles and although the gesture is warm something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Your friend seems to be doing just fine doll,” James tells you as he spins you both around so you can see.

Matt is currently dancing with a beautiful red head, her pale face lit up in a smile as they twirl around the room.

“He certainly looks fine,” you finally say with a giggle.

“I assure you my friends are very engaging. They were overjoyed to know I was having company. Natasha especially. She loves to dance and it’s been quite some time since I’ve entertained.”

“Your home is beautiful,” you say. “Do you live here alone?”

“No. Not alone,” he says. “Steven is my companion…we have been through much together and our friendship runs deep.”

“I met him when we got here and he showed me a glimpse of your impressive garden.”

James smiles, doing nothing to hide the haughty lift of his chin, and says, “ah yes! You’ve seen my flowers. I do enjoy tending to my nightly blooms.”

“I noticed many of them were open even in the nighttime,” you state pleasantly, not wanting to come off as rude.

“Yes all flowers of the darkness. The moonflowers are my personal favorite.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before,” you say.

“Well I’ll be sure to give you the grand tour of the garden after you see the library,” he beams.

As you continue to dance and talk you lose track of time, not even noticing that Matt has long since disappeared and you and James are the only two left in the large room.

“You’re a wonderful dancer James.”

“I’ve had many years of practice,” he explains. “And it helps having such an exquisite partner.”

You glow under his praise and find yourself craving more from him. You press yourself closer and release his hand, languidly sliding it along his shoulder to rest just below the base of his neck.

Joyously he returns your embrace, holding you affectionately as he continues to float you around the room. As the music slows so do his steps and as if sensing the change, you cling to him, your fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck.

His passion mixes with the innate thirst he has kept hidden and the scent of your skin, the feel of your body and the taste of you is overwhelming. He yields, and with a groan, dips his head to kiss your throat, his fangs emerging quickly and purposefully.

His kiss is gentle, not that of a predator but of a lover, and you gasp at first but don’t pull away. An ecstasy like you’ve never known takes over and any thought of pain ebbs away with every pulse of your blood.

“James!” comes a commanding voice that goes unheard by you. “Release her!”

You’re suddenly thrust from James’ arms, weak and dizzy. A soothing voice enters your head and your eyelids grow heavy, the room around you slowly fading into blackness.

James paces at the foot of his large bed, the four wooden posts holding up the deep velvet draping’s that partially shield you from his eyes.

“The thirst is commanding,” Steven states placidly. “But you must be more careful!”

James turns to his lifelong friend and stares, his lips parting as his fangs grow and sharpen.

“Yes, it does,” James answers, his voice low and menacing. “I need to feed.”

Steven nods with a quick glance at your prone form on the bed. “She will be safe here and she will sleep through tomorrow’s sun. Come. Let us hunt.”

The two men take long strides toward the door and with one last longing glance behind him, your soft features illuminated by a sliver of the moon’s pale light that escapes through the tapestries, James’ body shifts into the shape of a sleek black wolf and he races away.

At the smell of food you gently shift along the silken sheets, stretching out like a cat before you blink your eyes open. Darkness surrounds you and the smell of something sweet but weathered permeates the scent of the well-cooked meal.

You sit up slowly, clutching the sheets to your chest and noting that you are no longer wearing your dress from last night, only a thin chemise.

Last night?

Your mind begins to race and your voice catches in your throat as your eyes focus on the room.

“Where am I?” you squeak out, plastering yourself to the leather headboard.

“You’re safe doll.”

At the sound of James’ soothing voice you visibly relax. Something about his presence makes you feel calmer. You don’t quite understand it but he puts your mind and body at ease.

“What happened?” you ask. “Where is Matt?”

“You indulged a bit too much after dancing,” he explains as he moves closer, now standing beside the bed. “You were unfit to get home so I let you sleep here. As for Matt, he is safe at home.”

Again, for reasons unknown to you, you trust his word.

“Is this your bed?” you ask as you fingers sweep over the plush fabric.

You look up at him with the unspoken question in your eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers. “But I slept elsewhere. I promise you.”

More tension leaves your shoulders and you look past him to the steaming food on the small table.

“Hungry?” he asks with a mischievous grin.

“Starving!” you exclaim as you start to get up.

When you stand your legs are wobbly and you teeter at the edge of the bed.

James quickly wraps you in his embrace and holds you against his chest.

“Slow,” he instructs. “You have slept long and haven’t eaten. Sit. I will bring it to you.”

He gently sits you back down and goes to get the tray of food, setting it down beside you on the bed. He pulls up a chair and sits beside you, stabbing a piece of the food with the fork and bringing it to your lips.

Your eyes stay locked on his as your mouth opens and you take a bite. The low moan that leaves the back of your throat is unexpected but you are hungrier than you thought and the food is delicious.

His eyes flash and he grips the fork tighter, his already white skin pulled tight against his knuckles.

“Good, isn’t it?” he asks, plucking another bite from the plate.

“Yes,” you whisper, eagerly taking the second piece.

“Eat all you want doll. You’ll need your energy for all I have to show you today.”

He entertains you with stories of how he’s collected his books and how he came to love gardening. You brighten at his words and dutifully eat all the food on the plate.

When you’ve had your fill he stands and begins to collect the tray. You sit back with a contented sigh, fiddling with your necklace. Your fingers graze something on your neck and a rush of emotion floods through you.

“James,” you say, your voice wavering.

He’s instantly at your side, his face etched with worry.

“I…I have…” you stammer, fighting the growing warning in your head.

James delicately rests his palm over your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips.

“Everything is fine doll. I have everything you need here. Just say the words and it will be yours.”

Your eyes refocus and settle on his as a sense of peacefulness washes over you once again.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, warm and inviting, and your eyes drop to his lips. You’re drawn to him in every way, his charm ever present in the forefront of your mind and you grab his wrist, leaning in closer.

A loud knock on the door startles you from your trance and you pull away, quickly covering yourself with the blanket.

James’ eyes narrow and he let’s out a low rumble.

“Come in,” he says dangerously.

Steven enters and looks between the two of you, his eyes widening slightly at the look on James’ face.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he regrets. “But you are needed.”

He keeps his eyes on James and waits.

“I won’t be long,” James assures you, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll find everything you need in the chest at the foot of the bed. Feel free to wander the house.”

He stands abruptly and moves toward Steven, brushing past him with the soft closing of the door.

“This better be worth my time,” James seethes.

Once the two men are far enough away from the bedroom Steven grabs James’ arm and swiftly turns him so they are face to face.

“Do you have her under your charm?” Steven asks, his teeth gritted.

James turns away, walking toward the windows to look out over the garden, the bright blooms like stars scattered across the darkness.

“She will try to run,” he states coldly. “I will not have it.”

“James,” Steven sighs as he comes to stand beside his friend. “You do not give yourself enough credit. How do you know she will not grow to love you?”

James is silent for a long time, his eyes still staring out at the darkness.

When he finally speaks his voice is smaller, carrying none of it’s usual authority and fierceness.

“One could no sooner love a monster.”

“Give her time,” Steven answers quietly.

James makes no further comment and simply asks, “what could be so important that you would pull me from my love?”

“The young man…Matt, came to the estate. He is demanding to know why she is still here in your care and when she is coming home.”

James is quiet for a long time after Steven’s explanation and finally he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw firmly in line.

“Deal with it and make sure I am not disturbed again unless absolutely necessary.”

Before Steven can give any sign of acknowledgement James whisps away into a bat and speeds down the hall toward the library.

You dress in the clothes that he left you, running your fingertips over the soft fabric of the simple dress and loving how it fits you perfectly. The floor beneath your feet is chilly and you silently wish for something warm to cover them. Just as you open the door of the bedroom you notice a pair of slippers resting at the side and you wonder if the house has heard your silent request and answered.

Now warm and comfortable you make your way down the long hallway, passing the room from last night where you danced with James. You continue further down, seeing many smaller adjacent rooms that hold cozy sitting areas and desks.

When you reach the end of the hall, moonlight gathers on the stone floor from one of the large windows, and a large oaken door sits slightly ajar.

You take a deep breath and gently push it open the rest of the way.

A large fire burns comfortably in the hearth, its ruddy glow infusing the room with heat and light. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with richly carved wooden bookshelves, every available space filled with books.

The scent of well-oiled leather and old parchment invades your senses and you throw your hands up and twirl with barely subdued awe.

“I was hoping I would be back in time to see your reaction,” James purrs from the doorway.

You spin around to find him leaning against the tall wooden doorframe, his perfect lips carved into a soft smile.

“Oh James!” you exclaim. “It’s just….”

You squeal in happiness, running to one of the shelves and plucking a book off, your fingers moving reverently across the worn binding before you carefully open it and lift it to your nose.

Your inhalation is loud and full and when you lift your eyes to James his own are crinkled with joy.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” he inquires as he moves toward you.

“It’s even better,” you whisper, clutching the book to your chest.

When he reaches you he presses his long fingers under your chin, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

“I cannot express the happiness this brings me. You may read anything you like. They are yours.”

Your mouth falls open at his offer and your eyes widen, brightening with tears.

“But…why? You just met me. Isn’t there someone else…?”

“There is no one else,” he says sharply, not meaning to speak so and he quickly smiles and tucks you under his arm.

“There is no one else who would enjoy them as much as you,” he says, this time his voice soft and pleasant.

“What about you?”

Your question catches him off guard and he studies you silently before gathering you in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. I will enjoy them too of course.”

He’s reluctant to let you go but he can feel your body brimming with excitement.

“Go, enjoy! I will come find you shortly for dinner.”

He turns to leave but you grab his hand and give it a small tug, smiling under your lashes when he gives you a curious look. You press your palm to one of his cheeks and softly kiss the other, your lips lingering for a moment before you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper and with a wide smile you dash off to the shelves.

James wanders back down the hall, his fingers pressed to the same spot your lips had touched and for the first time he weighs the reality of Steven’s words.

Could you really love him? Would you stay because you wanted to?

When Steven comes to collect you for dinner you are curled up in one of the scarlet velvet cushioned chairs, a large book in your lap and a wistful expression on your face.

“My dear,” Steven says softly. “Dinner is ready and you must be hungry.”

You look up with a start but smile when you see him.

“Yes, I am!” you say with a laugh. “What time is it?”

“It is well past dinner time but your schedule is off after your night of partying.”

At that last word Steven gives you a playful grin and you match it but as you stand and go to him it begins to fall.

“I don’t even remember having a drink! All I remember is dancing with James and then I woke up in his bed.”

Your steps slow and you look at Steven, your eyes turning round with fear.

“Don’t worry,” he says carefully, moving forward tentatively to take your hand. “Everything is fine and you are safe.”

His words are like a warm caress and you feel the tension seep from your body.

“What have you been reading?” he asks as he urges you out the door of the library.

With your fearful thoughts a distant memory you divulge Steven in every little detail of the book you’ve read so far…a first edition copy of ‘Wuthering Heights.’

“I still can’t believe I have it in my hands,” you say with amazement as you look down at the book. “Where did he get this?”

“You can ask him yourself,” Steven smiles as he holds the door of the dining room open.

James greets you by taking your free hand and leading you toward the chair next to his, pulling it out so you may sit.

Steven clears his throat to get James’ attention, a silent exchange passing between them. James nods and proceeds to sit.

“So, what do you think so far?” James asks as his eyes drop to the book.

“I love it but how did you get a first edition copy?”

Your excitedness eases some of the worry that Steven’s earlier warning provoked and he relaxes, eagerly listening to your chatter about the book.

“Won’t you have something to eat?” you ask when you scrape your plate clean with your last bite.

James glances down at his still full plate and smiles.

“Well, I was so enraptured with you, I forgot to eat,” he says with a wink. “But come, we will go to the garden before we have some dessert.”

He stands and reaches for your hand, taking it and looping your arm with his. You press into his side and walk with him down the long hallway toward the garden.

The darkness of the night isn’t oppressive, the leaf-filtered moonlight turning the garden into a moving tapestry of shadows and wisps, and all around are the soft sounds of nighttime life.

James breathes in deeply, the subtle scent of your warm blood taking precedent above all the other fragrances from the flowers. A warm breeze travels among the leaves and blooms yet your body trembles.

“Are you cold?” James asks.

“It isn’t cold out but for some reason I feel a chill.”

At your answer he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You smile in thanks and pull it closer to your body, discreetly sniffing the collar.

His smell makes you sigh and you snuggle closer to the warm fabric.

“It must be a lot of work to care for all these flowers,” you muse as you meander down the stone pathways.

“It takes nurturing and patience,” he says quietly as his eyes wander across the flowers. “Time is something I have a lot of.”

He steps closer to the moonflower plant and gently picks a blossom, twirling it between his long fingers.

“This, doll, is a moonflower.”

He holds it just under your nose, the soft petals tickling your skin as you inhale.

“It smells almost citrusy,” you remark. “They are beautiful.”

He takes the flower and tucks it under the thin strap of your dress, his fingertips tracing the outline of your collarbone before ghosting along your throat.

“Did you know they are deadly if ingested?”

Your eyebrows raise and you shake your head, leaning into his touch. “The seeds are highly toxic but thankfully once you educate yourself they are both very safe and very easy to cultivate.”

“Do they stay open in the daytime?” you ask, your voice breathless.

“They do not. They are true nighttime blooms. Only in the darkness do they come alive.”

His fingers move higher and curl around the back of your neck. Your scent surrounds him, drowning out all his other sharpened senses.

“James,” your voice trembles.

“Do you want to know another of my favorite quotes from your beloved Frankenstein story?” he whispers, his breath cool against your skin.

His fangs begin to lengthen and hunger tugs at every fiber of his unnatural existence.

“What is it?” you ask, your body now completely pliant against his.

His nose brushes along the length of your neck and he gently nips at your earlobe, pressing his thumb under your chin to tilt your head back and expose more of your throat.

“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear,” he murmurs, pressing his lips just below your ear.

You tremble but this time it’s not from the cold and when your eyes meet his commanding gaze you smile softly and press closer to him.

“But I am not afraid,” you whisper.

He takes your face in his hands and smooths the pad of his thumb across your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own, their color red with the anticipation of the taste of you. His fingers slide down and graze your pulse point, the rhythmic throbbing sending a rush of heat through his body.

The clouds move slowly across the sky, exposing the full silver light of the moon and it floods the garden, bathing you both in an ethereal glow.

“I will no longer suffer this eternity alone. You will be mine forever.”

His lips press to yours, nipping and licking your warm flesh before he parts your tongue and swallows your gasps of pleasure. A fire erupts across your skin and your fingernails dig into his back, his jacket falling to the ground in a heap of dark fabric.

As his hands explore your bare skin he can barely contain his awe, the feeling of you is better than anything he could have imagined in his long life.

The flower that is secured in your dress floats to the floor as his fingers slip under the thin straps and slowly push them off your shoulders. His lips never leave yours when his hands travel lower, caressing every inch of you that he can.

“James, please,” you beg, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

He pulls away, your lips still chasing his, and looks into your eyes.

Slowly he loosens his hold over you and some of the light returns to your eyes like a spark ignited. You reach for him again; this time of your own accord and he growls in victory.

With languid movements he brings your lips to his once again, softly kissing them before he moves down your neck, lightly scraping your skin with his elongated fangs.

You gasp his name, a whispered plea, and he can no longer deny the thirst that burns inside him like a fever and without warning he embeds his fangs in your soft flesh.

For that one brief moment all desire leaves your body and is replaced with an innate terror at the realization of what’s happening. With a weak push on his chest you try to get away but it’s too late and before the cry of anguish can leave your parted lips you sink into an inky blackness, the feeling of ecstasy creeping over you like a veil, shrouding all else in shadow.

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