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emberfrostlovesloki · 9 months

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A Warm Bath [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@cozyreadings) Center (@weleavetomorrow) Right (@milla984)

Prompt: Aaron is having negative thoughts about his body and aging. The case the team faces puts Hotch’s physical ability on the line, as he attempts to save the BAU-reader from a violent fate.

Pairing: [established relationship] Aaron x gender-neutral reader. The reader uses They/them pronouns.

Category: Angst/comfort

Word Count: 16K

Content Warnings: Body image issues [mostly related to aging (Hotch)], brief mention of food and diet, mention of 2000s celebrity tabloids, multiple deaths [via dogs eating them], victim’s body parts are mentioned, animal cruelty [some dogs are described as living in bad conditions and being mistreated]. Animal death [dogs (not explicitly shown or described, but implied], a good bit of swearing and language, Hotch and the reader are naked in front of each other [no smut], and slight drinking.

A/N: Hi loves! I’m back with another long, angsty fic. This was written for my love Rome (@criminalskies) from my December prompt list (linked) #28: Character A hears Character B sing for the first time. This was supposed to be short and sweet, and like most of my writing, it got a bit away from me, but in a way that I like. I will say I think this is a bit darker than some of my writing given the means of death, but I hope I handled it and the animal issues okay. If you know me, you know I love some insecure Hotch plus lots of angst, and I hope you find that here. Once more, thank you Rome for being my friend. ILY. If you like this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I hope ya’ll have a great rest of the week. - Love Levi ❤️

P.S. There is a mention that the reader’s favorite song is Hozier’s “Unknown / Nth” If this is not your favorite song, feel free to substitute your own!

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite candle

Aaron stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. The mirror was half-steamed from the warm air and moisture seeping from the bathroom. The white towel draped over his hips sat in a way that did not reveal anything inappropriate. Those areas and his legs were not the spots on his body that bothered him. Those areas didn’t bother _y/n_ either. Not that any part of his body bothered _y/n_. When they were bare to each other, _y/n_ seemed to worship him in a manner that Aaron didn’t feel he deserved. Where these insecurities had arisen from. He was unsure or unwilling to explore. But he couldn’t stop judging his body as hard as he tried. He knew he had little time before _y/n_ would come back from the store. They had just gone on a small grocery run. The winter weather called for some soup and toasted sourdough, but Hotch had been woefully short in the bread department. Probably because he hadn’t bought it in weeks. He was trying to add more protein to his meals. Because it was December and flurries fell on the ground almost every day, Aaron’s daily runs had been cut, almost completely, out of his schedule. His body ached too much in the cold. His knees and back gave small pops of protest, and his chest was particularly sensitive around the scars left by Foyett. That attack had been over a year ago, but the pain lingered and reminded him of how weak he had been that day. How he’d been off his feet for weeks. He hadn’t liked his body after that spell either. Of course, he could always go to the Quanitco gym, but most of the men there were more built like Derek. Pumping iron in some unspoken competition of who could look better in a tank, shorts, and being sweaty. Even if Hotch could zone out while he did his workout, he just felt like he didn’t belong in that space anymore. ‘This is so stupid, Aaron, and you know it,’ his internal critic droned out. Hotch tried to still the voice and ran a hand over his stomach. He could still feel his muscles under the slight layer of fat, tissue, and skin. ‘At least you have that,’ the voice continued. Aaron pulled his hand away as if he was burned by his own body. Aaron had planned to move to his dresser and cover the body that was bothering him so much, but his face, cast in the soft glow of his lamps caught his attention as well. Hotch moved closer to the mirror. The bags under his eyes, crow's feet, and the small, grey hairs that peppered his dark locks seemed to bother him as much as the rest of his body.

Aaron wasn’t dumb, far from it, but as he looked at his reflection, he couldn’t help but judge how age had changed not only his body but his face as well. Aaron hadn’t expected to age like a celebrity or anything; his work ensured that his body was worn down weekly, and the stress of the job did nothing for his frown lines. He knew late middle age would catch up with him one day, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this. The aches and pains, the look of wariness that haunted him. His reflection only mocked him. Reminded him that he wasn’t young anymore. His intrusive thoughts got louder: so loud that he didn’t notice when _y/n_ entered the room; cheeks flushed from the cold they had been in just a minute ago. _y/n_ was going to give a cheery, “I’m back!” But stopped in their tracks as they saw Aaron absorbed by the mirror. This wasn’t the first time they had seen him like this. Hotch tried to hide it in the morning when he showered, and _y/n_ brushed their teeth in the sink. They could see his eyes dart to the mirror for a second and then away like he was assessing himself negatively. They didn’t know when this had begun, but _y/n_ caught him doing it more and more recently. _y/n_ knew they would have to say something soon. Whatever was going on didn’t seem good for Aaron’s mental health. Realizing that now might be as good a time as any to breach the subject, _y/n_ cleared their throat and said, “See anything interesting over there, mister?” Of course, to _y/n_, Aaron clad in a towel was the same as looking at a statue of a Greek god, and him without a towel -- well, that could be blinding, but it seemed that Aaron was less than pleased with himself, and _y/n_ sought to understand why. Aaron’s eyes snapped to the side, realizing he’d been caught body-checking. Hotch turned and faked a half smile and said, “Hey, love. I felt something in my eye. I was trying to see it before I tried to wash it out in the sink.” The lie was so half-assed that Hotch wouldn’t have believed it. And _y/n_ was far too perceptive a partner and profiler to be taken in by a white lie. Aaron wasn’t even sure why he had lied. He assumed it was because it was embarrassing. He felt like a teenager looking at the cover of Stars where Miley Cyrus, or Brintey Spears, or Ann Hathoway’s heroine chic figures were splashed on the front page with the headline “Starlet gains pounds - Fan wonder where X fell off the wagon?” And below that would be the advert for a page about dieting or exercise. It was all too shameful to admit to something like that to _y/n_. _y/n_ matched his lie by stating, “Come here. Let me see if I can see what’s in your eye.” Aaron hesitated and stumbled through the response with, “Well, well I… I think it’s gone now, _y/n_. I’ll be okay. Just need to get some clothes on. Did you find the bread you wanted at the store?” He spoke quick as if he were trying to cover up some secret. _y/n_ tilted their head and raised a brow. In as gentle a voice that was also pseudo-commanding, they said, “Come sit with me on the bed for a second, Aaron.”

Aaron listened to _y/n_, especially when they used that tone that was half-concerned and half-wary. Wary not for themself, but for him. It was rarely employed, but when _y/n_ did use it, he listened. He padded over to the side of the bed with _y/n_, and they both sat down. _y/n_ looked into his dark brown eyes. _y/n_ knew if they saw them in the light, they were tinted hazel. But that wasn’t what this was about. _y/n_ looked from him to the mirror and said, “That thing isn’t doing you any favors, Aaron. A reflection can be a cruel companion. Hotch flushed and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, _y/n_.” _y/n_ smiled softly and said, “How many times have you told me I’m not stupid when I doubt my logic on a case?” _y/n_ let that question hang in the room for a second before replying, “Hundreds at this point. And you know what? It’s true. Now I see how you look at yourself. Doubting. Hesitant like I am sometimes. You wear darker colors. I know what those things can mean. Aaron. Where is this coming from, love?” _y/n_ had only known Aaron to be confident since they started their relationship. There had been a small period of doubt after Foyett, but shortly after that, it had been replaced by rage. There was a short silence as Hotch looked at the soft woven blanket that covered his bed and then to the window. He watched the snow fall lazily to the ground. He sighed and said, “I feel different. My body, it feels different now.” _y/n_ placed a hand over his and gave it a squeeze. That got him to look at them. _y/n_ moved their hand from his hand to his defined jawline, running a hand down it before dropping it back to the bed. _y/n_ asked, “Did this start in December?” Hotch half nodded and said, “Kind of. I’ve felt it worse now that I’m not working out as much. It just happened so slowly. Age has hit me differently than I thought it would.” Somehow this wasn’t the conversation _y/n_ had planned on having today, but it wasn’t something that could be put off. Not with Aaron seeming so upset. _y/n_ asked, “What do you mean that it’s ‘different than you expected,’ exactly?” Hotch looked back at them and said, “I can feel my body changing in various ways. I don’t feel like I can perform the same way I did on the field. That if I’m put in a physical situation, I might fail.” _y/n_ resisted sighing. They knew how fragile a conversation this was and wanted to address it with care. _y/n_ held his gaze and said, “Hotch, you’re allowed to age. We all do. You’re the Unit Chief of the BAU. If Strauss had a problem with your performance, she’d tell you again. The team would tell you. You’re a competent, capable agent. As for your physical prowess, you’re strong, Aaron. Did you forget how you carried me over the huge puddle in the parking lot the other day because I was wearing my nice shoes?” At this, Aaron chuckled. He remembered it clearly, as Morgan had teased _y/n_ about getting their good leather shoes wet. But Aaron knew they didn’t want to get them wet half because they were very nice shoes and, also, because they had been an anniversary gift from him. At his laughter, the mood seemed to lighten. Even with that being the case, _y/n_ still worried about him; these types of thoughts, if he’d been having them long, didn’t bode well for the long term. _y/n_ leaned in and kissed him gently. They started at his neck and up his jawline. Aaron relaxed into the touch, and as _y/n_ pulled back, the look they gave him reassured him that _y/n_ meant every word they had just shared. _y/n _added, “Hotch, I think this is something that a professional should hear about if these types of thoughts continue. If they make you feel bad about yourself?” Aaron let out a sigh, and said, “You’re right, _y/n_. I’ll speak to someone if I start feeling this way again. Thanks for the affirmation. I didn’t know I needed it that much.” _y/n_ smiled at him and ran a hand over his right arm. _y/n_ was about to suggest taking a warm bath together to decompress from that conversation, but before the words could come out. Aaron’s phone rang.

Hotch stood and moved to his nightstand. He swiped to answer the call and put the cell to his ear saying, “Agent Hotchner. There was a pause, and then he said, “Yes. Got it. Be there in a few, JJ. Have you called the rest of the team? … Okay, and yeah, _y/n_’s here. We’ll be over soon. … Okay, bye.” Once Aaron hung up, he moved decidedly to his drawer. He dropped the towel and pulled on his briefs and an undershirt before moving to his clotheshorse that held his outer shirts, suit jackets, and pants. _y/n_ didn’t even have time to admire his nude body, as they needed to change into their formal attire as well. _y/n_ moved into his closet, changed, and unlocked the gun safe, pulling Aaron’s two guns out for him with their sidearm. _y/n_ called from the closet, “Does it sound bad?” the audible sigh from Aaron in the next room told _y/n_ all they needed to know about the type of case that had just landed at the BAU’s door. Twenty minutes later, Aaron and _y/n_, plus the rest of the team were seated in the conference room with JJ and Aaron standing up front and Penelope running the slideshow from the far side of the table. Hotch looked at his media liaison for a second almost for reassurance before saying, “I’m just going to show you the photos first. I think once you see them, you’ll know more about the type of person we are dealing with. Aaron rarely prefaced the photos attached to the case, so the team looked with some anticipation at the screen. Garcia clicked for the next slide and everyone, even Hotch, cringed at the gruesome, bloodied, almost unidentifiable body parts of one victim. Then the next, and the next, and the next. The victims varied in skin color, build, and sex. There were three female victims and one male victim. Each of the deceased was missing various parts of their bodies. Since their bodies were so exposed, half-eaten, the elements had only decomposed the bodies faster. Aaron gave the team enough time to see the photos on the big screen before having Garcia turn the screen off. Hotch said, “As you can see, we’re dealing with something strange here. The coroner knows it’s some kind of wild animal, and we are waiting on the diagnostic report from the hospital two counties over. Some of the victims were so badly mauled that teeth prints had to be taken to identify the victims. We know all of their identities. Hotch nodded to JJ, who had Garcia show regular photos of Katerina Lia, Jeffre Domingez, Sherry Paine, and Dusty Hoffner. When this was done, Hotch continued, saying, “Their profiles and the photos can be found in your files after the briefing. The police in Kansas were hesitant to call us the first two times, as they thought it might just be a tragic accident by a wild animal, and they involved the Game and Fisheries authorities as well as contacting State Troopers. The few parts of the first victim were found strewn on the main street and although it seemed unlikely, the authorities wanted to rule out the possibility that it wasn’t a wild animal, or pack of animals first. Given the external damage to the bodies, it’s unlikely that it’s only one dog or coyote. In the following two weeks, the three other bodies were found in similar popular areas in town, like the park, outside the movie theater, and at the middle school. After that, there was no denying that this was just a wild animal. Thus we were called, but a bit later than I would have liked. But that’s what we’re working with. This case is undoubtedly an odd one, but the unsub seems to be amping up his kills, and if we don’t stop them quickly, well, we’ve seen what happens. Now. Wheels up in thirty.”

The team scattered to their desks, each repulsed by what they had seen. _y/n_ was so grossed out that they even skipped getting coffee for the plane. _y/n_’s mind kept flashing to whoever had found each of the bodies. Probably a young worker moving to clean the theater for the first matinee show. Or a janitor or coach arriving early in the morning trying to get some extra work done. This fact twisted _y/n_’s stomach even more, as they grabbed for their go bag from the deep drawer in their desk, plus the pair of tennis shoes that they always stuffed in their duffle. It constantly bothered _y/n_ that not only the victims that the BAU saw were often minorities of some kind, but those who found them also often lived in difficult situations or worked hard jobs. This irked _y/n_ more than they would admit. _y/n_ found it hard seeing the gore and violence they did, and they were acclimatized to the sight. How could a normal person recover from seeing such a thing? It seemed insurmountable to them. The possibility that dogs might be involved in some way also twisted _y/n_ insides. They loved animals, and using man’s best friend in such a brutal manner felt more than psychotic. As _y/n_ stood up, they were surprised by Aaron, who already had his go bag and briefcase ready. He looked at _y/n_ and noticed their visible distress. He asked, “Are you alright?” He brushed a hand over theirs, and _y/n_ replied, “Yeah. This case is just weird. It feels different. But I can’t put a finger on it yet.” Aaron nodded and said, “We’ll look out for each other on this one. I promise.” _y/n_knew what Hotch meant by “look out for each other,” was “I’ll look out for you, okay?” _y/n_ nodded, reassured by his words and continued support. Hotch held out his hand for their duffle, and _y/n_ gave it to him. Aaron swung the bag over his shoulder and waited for _y/n_ to follow him to the airstrip. He didn’t need to do this but felt that _y/n_ might need some extra support right now. He didn’t blame them. He’d dropped a load on their shoulders this morning, and now they had this case. It felt like a lot, even to him. So he was going to be there for _y/n_ -- even if it was just physical closeness.

On the jet, the team debriefed about what their initial thoughts were. Spencer had stats on the town and how rare animal attacks were one in every 70,000 deaths a year. Derek mentioned how the bite marks looked like dog bites. Morgan had seen a few bad bites in his previous Chicago beat. After the debrief, the team slipped into their normal groups. Em moved to JJ’s side. Reid and Morgan found each other, and _y/n_ put on some wired headphones and pulled out the brief again. As much as _y/n_ found the team's chatter comforting when a case troubled them, they found silence or an easy soundtrack or song to help them focus on the case. Aaron settled next to Dave and Emily. The trio started talking about Cottonwood Falls, its population, and the type of police force they should expect there. Small towns often called in State Troopers to help with bigger investigations, which just meant more bureaucratic red tape; something that all three agents were all too familiar with. Hotch looked over his team and _y/n_ sitting near the back of the jet. He was sure that _y/n_ that they were either listening to white noise or one of their five playlists which mostly consisted of Hozier and other music in that genre. Aaron appreciated _y/n_’s need to find moments of calm and clarity at the start of cases. When they had first joined the team, Aaron had overheard _y/n_ speaking to Garcia about feeling weird about isolating themself from the team early on in the case, but it helped to ground them in the new whirlwind of events. They liked to annotate the brief written by JJ and thoroughly look at the photos. This often helped later on as trends or niche things from the crime scene would be useful if the team got stuck. Aaron listened in as Penelope said, “Sweetheart, everyone has their own method. Your contribution to the case is essential and, however, you need to do that is fine. I promise. Stick around this group for long enough, and you’ll see that we all have our strange habits.” Aaron had been thankful and was still thankful for Garcia for being so uplifting and understanding of the team. Together they made an odd group, but it worked. The next case after that conversation had happened, Hotch had made sure to shoot _y/n_ a hint of a smile as they distanced themself to read the case file beginning to end -- pen and highlighter in hand. It was a similar scene now, as _y/n_ opened the case file and looked at the brief. It read:

Location: Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, USA

Population: 851

Victim No.: 4

Names of Victims: Dusty Hoffner, F (28), Jeffre Domingez, M (39), Katerina Lia, F (45)

Sherry Paine, F (19).

Victim’s Occupations: Unknown.

Report of crimes thus far: On December 15th at 5:00 a.m. A local refuse worker (Jim Vaunt) found a mangled left hand near a trashcan on Locust and Union St. He quickly called the police, who quickly arrived. Mr. Vaunt and the officers were disturbed to find other body parts of the first victim (Katerina). The areas where body parts were found were condoned off, and a thorough search went out looking for a wild animal. The residents were informed, and school was canceled for the day. Little progress was made and the next week, the three other victims were found in similar states of decomposition and decay. Though the cooler weather and frost have kept some of the body parts better preserved. The town is in a panic, with parents pulling their children from school early and groups going looking at local farms for any animals. This had resulted in the death of one family dog that had gotten loose earlier on the afternoon of the 17th. The State Troopers have been called in. Two town meetings have been held, but little progress has been made so far.

_y/n_ then moved back to the vile photos. Sherry’s stood out the most as she was the youngest victim. One photograph of her left hand showed that she had been wearing bubble gum pink nail polish. It was slightly chipped from wear. _y/n_ frowned at a life so young being snuffed out in such a brutal, literally animalistic, fashion. It wasn’t fair. But that was where the BAU came in; _y/n_ reflected. Not that they could change the past, but at least they could ensure that the human who committed such atrocities paid for their choices. There was a reassurance in that. When _y/n_ had finished taking notes and looking at the crime scene photos, they paused their playlist and took off the headphones. _y/n_ grabbed their file and moved over to Derek and Spencer to see what they were thinking. Now _y/n_ was ready to add their voices to the preliminary profile being built. As the jet cruised toward the small landing strip a few miles from Cottonwood Falls, the team all felt anticipation, an undercurrent of tension at what would face them in the small town below.

Cottonwood Falls was as small and quiet as Spencer had described. But it wasn’t a peaceful quiet. It was a disquiet. The team saw large groups of men sitting in the backs of various trucks, holding shotguns, and scowling as the Chase County Police Department got closer. The team didn’t see any children out, and the schoolyard and playgrounds lay quiet. Devoid of kids. It made sense, of course, four unknown people had been torn apart, literally. _y/n_, who was in an SUV with Spencer, Derek, and JJ, hoped that there would be more information once they got to the stations. _y/n_ was right as the team was slightly heard into the station, Sheriff Welsh had hastily introduced himself to the team, with Aaron running as the point man. Sheriff Welsh seemed more prepared than most small-town cops who had a bizarre crime happen in their jurisdiction. A whole corner of the department was dedicated to the case, with multiple maps and boards up on the walls with the photos neatly grouped. The information that they already had was neatly placed on two pop-up card tables. The Sherrif had the team stand near the tables, and the dark-haired man said, “I have two new bits of information to share with you now that you folks are here. The first is that although it’s not growing season, we still have some workers that hop from farm jobs to far jobs through the slow season. It turns out Katerina Lia was one of those workers. A farmer in Olathe noticed her picture in the paper and called us, saying that she had signed a two-week contract for his sorghum harvest. It was late in the year, and he needed fewer workers, but Katerina was one of them. Also, though this is a small town, we do get tourists driving through because the highway runs toward Wichita and Topeka on either side of us. So I’m thinking that these might be some people or visitors hoping to pass through and something went horribly, horribly wrong. The other big item is that the coroner has stated that the cause of death was bleeding out and shock, and the bite marks found on the body were made by dogs. Various breeds and sizes, but for sure, it was dogs.” The horrible idea seemed to weigh the Sheriff down. It made him look ill. Hotch absorbed the information and quickly said, “Thank you for those updates. For now, I’m going to send my team to various sites to gather data and when we have more information and regrouped, we’ll present a preliminary profile for yourself and your officers.” Aaron could see the question, “What’s a preliminary profile coming,” and stopped the man saying, “And I promise to explain all of the practical jargon this afternoon if that’s alright?” The Sheriff raised his hands and said, “You got it. I’m just grateful ya’ll came out here to the sticks. Take all the time you need. There are three SUVs that you can use.” Aaron nodded and signaled to the team. He stated clearly, “Morgan, Reid, you go to the hospital and look at the victims. See if there’s anything we’re missing about them. Anything that might give us a location of death. Em, JJ, you go check any animal shelters in the area. Then call the school and theater. See if you can interview the janitor and employee who found the victims. Rossi and _y/n_, come with me. We’ll check out the other two sites and see if the vets around town have had any reports of wild or rabid dogs in the last two weeks.” The team understood their roles and moved to their respective cars. Just before Hotch had stepped outside, keys in hand, he asked Weiss, “How many farmers have dogs around here?” The Sheriff shrugged his shoulders and said, “Heck, all of them that I can think of. I’d be stupid not to.” Aaron nodded and let out a sigh. He realized that it was going to be harder to track down the dogs than he might have thought, but the method of killing was so specific that he hoped they could at least find the unsub quickly. Someone in a town this small had to know something.

There was a shocking amount of vets in such a confined space. However, it made sense given how much livestock there was in the farming and ranching community. Be it hobby farms or cattle, those animals needed care. As they were driving to meet Mr. Vaunt for an interview, _y/n_ had an idea and called Penelope. _y/n_ put the techie on speaker, and Garcia answered with, “Hello, my loves. How can the Office of Supreme Intelligence assist you today?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but smile at Penelope's pep, and said, “Can you compile a list of people that visit and more importantly adopt dogs regularly in the surrounding towns and counties? It probably won’t be all at the same time, maybe two or three weeks apart.” _y/n_ caught Hotch’s eyes in the rearview. He gave them a nod of approval at thinking of this. After a short pause, Garcia said, “I’ll have to get back to you on that my sweet. These small towns seem to have fewer electronic records, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find them somewhere. I’ll get back to you when I have something.” Before Garcia hung up, Aaron said, “Garcia, nothing illegal,” in a semi-stern tone. Penelope let out a bright laugh and said, “You got it, Hotch.” After that call, the day seemed to slip by quickly. By the end of it, the team had discovered and then presented to the small police force that the unsub was most likely a white male in his mid-thirties, a recluse or someone that rarely came into town, owned land to hold a pack of dogs who had at least five large canines. The land potentially had a field of tall June grass, as lots had been found on the victims' clothing, thanks to Spencer’s keen eye, and the unsub was only targeting out-of-towners. Lastly, if the man finds another person to kill, he will take the chance to do so again without remorse as the unsub was most likely a psychopath. After the basic profile was delivered, the team worked late into the night. They speculated that the unsub might have had a bad incident with a dog in his past, or some significant trauma with an animal of some kind. Emily recommended going back to the hospital in the morning to see if there were any medical records of such an event happening around thirty years ago. Hotch agreed and made preliminary assignments for the morning. With nothing else to really go on, the team headed to their motel to turn in for the night. It was odd getting to bed before two a.m. on a case, but this was not a normal case. In his room, Hotch showered and changed. He slumped into bed, trying to ignore looking in the mirror, at this body again. It was hard for him to imagine that it had just been that morning that _y/n_ had reminded him how much they loved him in his entirety. It was funny to Hotch how quickly he forgot those things. Aaron rolled onto his stomach, grabbed his phone, which was charging, and texted _y/n_ simply writing, “I love you, _y/n_. Sleep well.” He read the quick reply of, “Love you too, Aaron,” before he turned off his lamp, set his alarms, and attempted to sleep. Aaron was having a hard time with his rest and he sat up. He moved to the door and down the hallway. He knocked on _y/n_’s door and he could see the lamps still burning bright in their room. _y/n_ let him in, headphones still in their ears. Hotch slumped down on their bed, comforted to be in _y/n_’s calming presence. They didn’t bother him as he closed his eyes. They sat down and kept reading over their notes, again, and again, and again. Aaron could hear _y/n_ tapping along with the beat of their playlist on their leg. He knew the rhythm well at this point and it lulled him to sleep as _y/n_ kept thinking deep into the night.

The dawn woke the team, and everyone was relieved to find that there wasn’t a new victim. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be, but they would strive to make sure it didn’t happen again. At the precinct, the team drank the poor-grade coffee and talked briefly about how quiet the town was at night. Spencer had stayed up all night and heard an owl and one time the barking of a dog. The genius had admitted that even that had him scared. Of course, Morgan had made fun of Spencer for this, except he had to eat his words because one of the police dogs had barked right after his joke, and Derek nearly jumped out of his skin. That had brought a moment of lightness to a very grim case. The team, little did they know it, would need that for the rest of the day, and their time in Kansas.

Rossi suggested to Aaron that he, Derek, and Aaron go and speak to some of the men running their patrols looking for dogs. _y/n_ suggested she and Emily go and check the medical records, and JJ decided to try and contact the farmer who had employed Katerina to get more information while Spencer found maps of the area. He wanted to see if there were any large swaths of June grass in the surrounding areas, and the lean agent knew he could guess pretty well with a topological map where large patches of the native grass would grow. Aaron agreed, and everyone moved to their respective tasks. Hotch, Morgan, and Dave were told by the sheriff that most of the menfolk had met at a local dive bar down the street, made plans, and then drove out for the day to ‘explore.’ Aaron thanked the man for the information, and his group headed out. The dive bar was ironically called Shooters. The theme of the place was hunting-oriented with mounted deer heads and some old-style rifles adorning the walls. The proprietor, who was standing behind the bar was potbellied and red-cheeked. He seemed more chipper than appropriate. but Derek assumed it was because he had the room half full with lots of people holding beers or shots in front of them. The place was tackily decorated for Christmas with a small tree in the corner and lights up on the walls. One of the deer heads had a Santa hat askew on its head. Morgan and Rossi moved to speak to the owner of the bar. Aaron began talking to a few of the men, showing his badge when questioned. As Hotch moved toward another group, he noticed a small faded flyer. It had the picture of an English Springer Spaniel with a duck in its mouth. The blocky, white text read: “Here to hunt at the Lodge on Route 75? Make your time here more fun and successful by renting a purebred hunting dog! $80/day, including drop off and pick up at your designated hunting site. Call: 390-785-0092 for inquiries. There was no name attached to the flyer. Aaron moved to the man behind the bar and asked, “Do you know who put up that advertisement?” The man looked at where Hotch was pointed and took on a reflective gaze before nodding and saying in a deeply accented voice, “Yeah. That’s Jeff Karon’s side business. Man has corn and wheat crops, but in the summer we get swamped with hunters and he breeds dogs on the side for some extra cash. He’s an odd one. Lives way out there past the town limits.” Hotch nodded and wrote down the name and number. He would call Penelope and see what she came up with as well as speaking with Sheriff Weiss when they returned to the station.

_y/n_ and Emily at the hospital started to make converging discoveries with Hotch. The pair sat in the medical records room. A kind nurse had pulled out some boxes from the 1990s that she remembered being memorable cases for such a small town. After an hour they found nothing and moved to put the boxes back in the correct place. However, as they had quickly been putting the files back in chronological order, one folder was misplaced. It was much older than the rest. The front read Jeffery C. Karon 1958 - Infected Dog Bite. Emily let out a laugh, and _y/n_ turned to face her and said, “What is it?” As they put a box away on top of a dusty old one, Prentiss replied, “A file in the wrong box. Coincidentally it sounds related to the case.” _y/n_ stepped off of the one small step they needed to reach the tall, top shelf and walked over to Emily saying, “Let’s look at it. We’ve almost looked at every other file in here anyway. Maybe we can learn something.” Pretiness scoffed and opened the file as _y/n_ stood at her shoulder. However, after both agents' eyes skimmed over the first paragraph, they realized that they might have stumbled across something important. The patient data was typed and the case notes were written in cursive. They read read:

The young boy of twelve was bitten pretty severely by a rabid dog in the wheat field on the father’s farm in Oldsdaile. Ten stitches were needed to seal the wound and a rabies shot was given along with a course of antibiotics. There was a note about the patient’s father and then something about how if the wound wasn’t cleaned and cared for carefully, the boy could develop an infection in the bone and might need major surgery or worse.

_y/n_ and Pretiss looked at each other and then the photo of the young boy on a sepia-toned brownish grey. Emily grabbed the file and said, “Let’s ask around and see if anyone knows who this Jeffery Karon is.” The two agents moved to the nurse in charge of records and _y/n_ asked, “Ma’am. We found a file accidentally misplaced, but we think this person might be helpful to our investigation and the recent deaths. Do you or anyone here have any idea who this person is? If they still live around here?” The nurse took the file and looked it over. She said, “Just a moment, let me ask around.” Em and _y/n_ waited for a few minutes and the nurse returned and said, “Sorry but no one here seems to know who this is. Our old doctor. Dr. Anderson. who just retired and moved to Texas to be with his grandkids would know. I would recommend going to the town hall and looking at the records there. I can also print you a copy of this file and give Dr. Anderson’s number. Just don’t spread any of this around -- And Dr. Anderson is notorious for not answering his phone. He never really learned to use one, but perhaps that’s changed now that he’s around some youngsters.” Both agents thanked the nurse for her help and waited for the copy of the medical file and the number. It was only a few minutes before Emily and _y/n_ were back in the car and headed to the station. Instead of going to the town hall, Prentiss and _y/l/n_ decided to call Garcia instead. Before they came to that choice, they reflected how small-town cases were so different from those in the city. How they offered a change of pace to the often hectic cases in sprawling metropolises. Not that this case wasn’t urgent, just different. Emily was driving, so _y/n_ pulled out their phone to call Garcia, but just as they started to dial, Penelope called _y/n_. _y/l/n_ said, “Speak of the devil,” as they smiled and swiped answers. Garcia, always her chipper self said, “Alrighty my little chickens. It took me a while. but looking at the ten adjacent counties surrounding Cottonwood Falls there was a startling pattern. One man seems to go into these shelters and has been adopting a surprising amount of dogs that are up for euthanization. But the dude is picky. He only takes in big breeds from Shepards to Heelers to Great Danes. You name it. If it’s a big dog and it seems on its last legs, this guy will take it in.” Emily asked, “What’s this dude's name?” Garcia replied, “Jeffery Karon.” Prentiss and _y/n_ looked at each other knowingly. Both simultaneously thought, ‘Bingo.’ _y/n_ let out a sigh and said, “How many dogs are we talking about here? And how often are they being adopted?” Penelope clicked a few keys on her computer and said, “I’d say three to four a month. So maybe thirty-six a year. But some months there are no adoptions. I don’t know how one man can care for so many dogs. Feeding them alone must cost an absorbent sum each month.” _y/n_ didn’t say it but thought, ‘One way to cut costs would be to not feed them. Thus the need to adopt so many dogs.’ They thought back to the photos of the victims. They all had really been torn apart. The image of that happening was to sickening to the stomach and _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “As always Garcia, you’re the best. We’re pulling up the precinct now and it looks like Hotch is back too, so I’ll call you with any updates when I can.” Garcia replied, “Anything for you sweetness, and I texted you the dude’s address too. It’s headed to your phone as we speak. Supreme genius out.” Emily put the car in park and they both jumped out. They both had a lot to share.

As the pair got inside _y/n_ realized that Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi had also just gotten back as well. Emily let out a breath behind them. The brunette was excited to share their news and said, “I think we might have our guy!” The three men, and JJ and Spencer in the back looked over at her. Hotch spoke first and asked, “Is his name Jeffrey Karon?” Aaron’s statement seemed to take the wind out of Emily’s sails and she replied, “Hey. How’d you know?” The small sub-teams merged, and they all got updated on what they had all learned that morning. When everyone was caught up, the team moved to Sherrif Weiss. Aaron asked the head of the police department, with a copy of Jeff’s childhood photo, “Do you know this man? Jeffrey C. Karon?” The Sheriff nodded after a moment and replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. He’s an odd one. He’s lived on the farm his father, Jean Karon lived on. It’s a farm out in the boonies. Jean’s wife died in childbirth and from what I understand, Jean wasn’t exactly dad material. So it was just those two for a long time. Then the town they lived in dissolved. Too many people moved out in the 70’s. A few years after that, Cottonwood Falls proposed taking the land into our county. By that point old man Karon was pretty worn out and sickly, but he was vehemently against reintegration. He waged a moral war on the idea and, well he kind of died while losing that battle and Oldsdaile became part of Cottonwood Falls. That left his twenty-year-old son with the farm and a small sum of cash the man had stored away. Jeffrey tried to go away and get an education at a local college. He fell in love with a girl. I couldn’t tell you why, but Jeff dropped out of school and brought his new wife back with him. Allegedly they had a kid together, but anytime I’ve visited that farm I’ve never seen a kid. So I guess when Jeff’s wife inevitably left him, she must have taken the kid with her. And honestly, good for her. I wouldn’t want to spend a long time out there either. But I haven’t honestly seen Jeff in over two years. Guess he ended up a recluse like his father.” The Sheriff gave a whistle after the long monologue. The Sheriff had almost forgotten the wheat farm on the far outskirts of town. The whole team took a second to absorb that the Sheriff had described the perfect unsub. Breaking from their shared trance, Hotch emphatically asked, “Where does Mr. Karon live!” As the Sheriff murmured, “Let me look. I haven’t thought of him in a long while.” While the man was puttering about, _y/n_ pulled up her phone and said, “I have it Hotch. Penelope sent it to me while we were on the way back here.” Aaron shot _y/n_ a small smile and said, “We’ll need LEOs for this Sheriff Weiss. Five men at least.” The law enforcement officer looked at Aaron with apprehension and asked, “You think Jeff is our guy?” The look Hotch shot Weiss was enough to shut the man up and then turn and order two cop cars and five officers to accompany the BAU team on their trip out to the isolated farm.

The white SUVs and two cop cars rushed down the isolated dirt and gravel road. The Karon farm was a good thirty-five minutes outside of town set on an isolated road that left the highway. As they moved down the road. _y/n_ noticed that random patches of the tall grass seemed pressed down or pushed aside unnaturally. Hotch was driving too fast for them to see what was happening but after the third time seeing the phenomena, _y/n_ called out, “Aaron, stop for a second. Somethings off on the side of the road.” Hotch threw _y/n_ a look with his classic raised eyebrow from the front. His sunglasses were blocking his eyes but after a moment, he slowed to a roll and then a stop. _y/n_ jumped out of the car with Morgan, who was also in the middle row of the car. Derek called out, “What did you see, _y/n_?” As they both ran toward another place where the grass looked odd. _y/n_ didn’t need to answer him as they pushed the tall grass aside to reveal a long wooden board with over two dozen nails pounded through the wooden beam. Morgan whistled and said, “Well that’ll stop a car alright. How many of these have you spotted already kid?” _y/n_ looked up at Derek and said, “This makes four.” The pair of agents didn’t disturb the plank in case it was needed for evidence later, and they both jogged back to the stalled car. Once inside, Morgan said, “Hotch there’s a homemade parking block spikes in the grass, and _y/n_ spotted three more before that one.” Aaron nodded and then started the car again. As he pushed the gas pedal, he said, “We did wonder how he got his victims out of their cars. Maybe they get turned around and go ask for help, but then get a flat instead. Aaron turned briefly and looked at _y/n_ and said, “Good catch. Keep a count of how many of those you see as we keep getting closer to the house.” After another four minutes, the cars reached an old rushing iron gate with a big sign in the font that read: “PRIVATE PROPERTY - DO NOT ENTER: BEWARE OF DOGS!!!” The line, “Beware of dogs,” sent a chill down everyone’s spine. Aaron attempted calling the home number twice, which Penelope had also dug up for the team, but nobody picked up, and there was no option for voice mail. One of the police officers got out of his cruiser with a pair of bolt cutters and broke open the chain that held the fence closed. The gate made a terrible screeching sound that had the team’s skin crawl. All of the cars pulled into the drive. The house was a simple farm-style house, painted white with green accents. All of the paint was badly chipped and there was a large truck parked out front. It seemed to be the only sign of life on that part of the farm. Aaron got on the radio and spoke to the other car saying, “Everyone’s wearing their FBI vests here, and everyone has weapons drawn. We can’t be sure what we’ll find in the house or on the farm. Lastly, no one, and I mean no one goes off alone. Rodger?” There was a crackle on the line and Emily replied, “Got it, Hotch.” As the team stepped out of the cars, a symphony of howling and then barking could be heard from the house Everyone went on the defensive. Hotch pulled out his microphone and stepped a few feet closer to the glass and screen door. _y/n_ followed after him a few paces. From their angle, they could see what looked like three to four big dogs at the door barking up a storm. _y/n_ had their gun aimed at the door. If something went wrong, they would have a bead on one of the dogs and would shoot if it came to that. They prayed it wouldn’t. Rossi sidled up next to _y/n_, they felt better knowing they weren’t alone in keeping Aaron safe as he clicked on the microphone and said, “Jeffrey Karon. This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. If you’re inside I’m giving you three minutes to restrain your dogs and come out of your home with your hands up. I’m starting a timer now.” Aaron’s voice echoed across the face of the house and the yard. It was a very tense minute and thirty seconds as the dogs continued to bray at the agents and police officers.

It felt like an eternity before one of the windows on the side of the house revealed a haggard-looking man who shouted, “Get off my goddamn property before I get a shotgun and shoot you, people. ‘Tis is an ‘nvastion of ma rights. My God-given rights ‘ye hear me!” All eyes turned to the window and again, Aaron stepped forward and said, “You don’t have any right Mr. Karon. You’re suspected of five counts of first-degree murder and tampering with remains. Now come downstairs and restrain your dogs or my team and I will come in and do what we have to restrain you. And I don’t think you’re so stupid to not know what will happen to you if you do try and get a gun.” Jeffrey was red-faced and spluttered, but in a half-show, Aaron looked at his watch and said, “You have a minute and a half left,” then Hotch angled his gun at the front door. Of course, _y/n_ knew that Aaron wouldn’t shoot one of Mr. Karon’s dogs unless it was a life-or-death scenario, but Mr. Karon didn’t. Hotch’s threat was enough to have the man at the window shout, “Fine, fine I’m coming. Don’t shoot the dogs. God damn you. I’m suing if anything happens to those dogs!” Aaron lowered the sidearm and let out a breath, slightly surprised that his strategy had worked. The team watched with bated breath as Jeff moved down the stairs slowly. He looked like he was in pain, as he walked with a significant limp, gripping the white stair rail tightly. The man called his dogs loudly enough for the team to hear him say, “Here boys, here.” At the call of their owner, the dogs all moved away from the door and to the foot of the stairs. Now that they were farther back, _y/n_ could see that it was five dogs, not three. All of the canines' tails seemed to wag happily as they saw their owner. Jeff petted all of them and seemed to give them a treat from the pocket of his robe. Something the older man said had the dogs stop barking. Jeff moved toward the door and Aaron and the team stepped onto the porch. Aaron looked at Jeff as the man moved to open the door. Hotch gripped the handle and closed it as soon as the man tried to open it. Aaron said clearly, “Put your dogs on leads and attach those leads to the stair rail.” Jeff blustered and said, “My dogs don’t go on lead. No State Commie can make me do that.” Hotch glared at the man and said, “They go on leads when I say they do. If you don’t do as I say I’ll add intentionally delaying a state investigation to your list of charges. Do you want the state looking into you more than we already are, Mr. Karon?” Jeff furrowed his brow and turned. The man who had tanned and spotted skin like many men who spent hours in the sun let out a litany of curse words as he moved to the other side of the room and grabbed five old faded leads. Again, the team watched as he moved painfully toward his dogs and one by one attached the lead to their collar and then tied the collars to the staircase. This took about seven minutes and finally, Aaron motioned for Rossi and _y/n_ to follow him as they breached the door. There was some chaos as Hotch cuffed Jeff and the dogs barked at seeing their owner get angry and yell again. Aaron twisted Karon’s arm uncomfortably and said, “I’d put a rag in it and answer any questions asked to you, Mr. Karon.” The added pain had the farmer shut up for a second before the man spit at Aaron’s shoes and said, “I’ll shut up. I want a lawyer. You big city types think you can break into an honest man’s house and threaten him, well. We’ll see about that, Special Agent Hotchner.” Jeffrey seemed to have a glint of malice in his eyes, and Aaron pushed him toward one of the officers, not letting the threat affect him. Aaron told the officer he handed Karon off to, “Put him in the back of one of the cruisers and read him his Miranda’s. If he says anything, record it. Anything could be important in this case. And once you're done that, take the dogs out and attach them to the wooden railing on the poach. Make sure they have shade and water.” The officer looked a little hesitant but nodded and began hauling Jeffrey off.

Now that the house seemed quiet, Aaron had the team split up into groups of two and look over the whole abode. Even though the dogs and Karon were out of the house, that didn’t mean that they dropped their guard. As the echoes of “Clear” rang through the upstairs and downstairs, the team seemed to lighten up. The most interesting things in the house were the profound amount of liquor bottles in the bedroom and kitchen, as well as the cabinet full of assorted pain meds in the bathroom. It was obvious to Spencer, Emily, and _y/n_ that Karon was self-medicating. If it was just for the leg injury that he had gotten as a child or something more, they couldn’t know until someone interviewed the potential unsub. Spencer took a moment too long looking at the multiple narcotics bottles for _yn_’s comfort and they gently said, “I’ve got this Spencer. Why don’t you help Morgan.” Reid looked at _y/n_ with a hint of gratitude and nodded softly saying, “Thanks, _y/n_.” _y/n_ just smiled at him and said, “No prob, Spence.’ With that, Spencer left the bathroom while Emily was looking over the bedroom. _y/n_ gave a small sigh. They knew Reid was clean, and had been for a few years now, but they knew how easy it was to fall back into bad habits, and alleviating any possibility was the least they could do for their friend. But the most interesting thing in the house was the little boy’s room on the first floor next to the living room. The pastel-blue walled room was caked in dust. So much that Hotch had a coughing fit for three minutes after leaving the room. It was hard to tell if it was Karon’s old room or his supposed son’s. Garcia hadn’t been able to find a record of Jeffrey Karon having a son, but she did find a name and address for his ex-wife who now lived in Tennessee. Hotch was beginning to think that the story about Mr. Karon having a son was a local legend of some kind. A story passed around about the strange old recluse with a tragic backstory who lived at the edge of town. Either way, the room being so well preserved and unused would prove helpful in trying to crack Jeffrey in the interview process. The child’s room meant something to him. When the house had been gone through, the team spread out in groups of two again to search the rest of the large thirty-acre property.

Behind the house was an ATV with the keys still in the ignition. Derek speculated that that was the easiest way to navigate the bumpy roads between the fields. The largest wheat field had two barns on one side of it. The first barn was for a large group of chickens that squawked when Spencer and Derek entered the smelly space. The other barn seemed to have regular farming equipment and feed for the assortment of animals that resided on the land. However, as _y/n_ moved a rake through the deep chicken feed containers, something snagged on the tines of the object. Pulling the tool up revealed a very tattered shirt sleeve. _y/n_ called in and let the team know what she’d found. Emily was up in the hayloft and said, “_y/n_, there’s a pillow and blanket up here too. Let the team know I think someone might be sleeping up here.” _y/n_ acknowledged Prentiss and let the team know the new information. Once Em had documented the small and narrow loft space, which was barely seven boards wide and could be accessed by a ladder, she climbed down to help _y/n_ to see if they could find anything else in the grain bins. As it turned out, a lot more was to be found including shoes, pants, IDs of the victims, and cash. Not only did they find the personal identification of all of the victims so far, but they found three new IDs and a passport of victims, who had not yet been found or reported missing.

The last metaphorical nail in Jeffrey Karon’s case was when Aaron and Rossi plus two other officers neared the oldest and largest barn on the other side of the wheat field which Spencer aptly pointed out had been tilled and Blue grass had been planted as a filler crop until next planting season. Neither car needed to even roll down its windows, as they neared the barn and heard the near-constant cacophony of barking and growling that filled the air in a disorganized symphony of sound. All four men drew their guns again. Obviously, they couldn’t just open the barn doors because Aaron didn’t know how the dogs inside this barn were being contained, or if they were contained at all. The BAU men moved around the barn, and Rossi found a ladder that would let them look up and into the barn’s higher windows. Aaron and Rossi moved the ladder to the window. Dave kept the ladder steady and Hotch climbed up to the dusty glass. Aaron slipped off his sunglasses and used his keen sight to look into the dim barn. He could see that one-third of the barn was empty but the other two-thirds had a strong very tall metal fence containing the bodies of a dozen dogs or more moving, writhing, and barking at the almost darkness. Every now and then one of the canine’s teeth would catch the light of the window Hotch was looking in, and Aaron couldn’t help but imagine how those teeth felt tearing into a human's flesh. The idea revolted him. He caught something odd, a red glowing light on the front of the cage. Aaron called for a pair of binoculars which were quickly brought to him. Hotch carefully shot out the windows which only set the dogs inside off more, but without the glass in the way and with the aid of the binoculars, he could see that there was a locking mechanism on the front of the padded gate. This reassured Aaron that they could get into the barn, but it only added that Jeffrey was smarter than he let on. Lawyering up was one thing, but having a timed gate assured that Mr. Karon didn’t become an accidental victim to the dogs inside the barn. Aaron quickly stepped down the ladder and told Rossi and the officers that they were clear to enter the hostile den. The officers seemed hesitant, but Rossi brushed past them, trusting Hotch and opening the doors of the barn. The dogs went wild and rushed the gate but couldn’t get out. Hotch and Dave covered their ears, and they stepped into the barn. Even though it might be safe for them to be inside the dank-smelling space, they kept a good five-foot distance from the dogs. Aaron observed that all of the dogs were malnourished and had their tails docked. Many of the dogs had bite marks and looked in ill health. Rossi noticed the feathers on the floor of the cage. There was a children’s pool filled with stinking water and flies on the far side of the cage. Aaron took pictures of the dogs, the cage, and the locking mechanism which seemed to be turned on via a switch or remote timer. Hotch felt a pang of pity for the dogs inside the barn and what a horrible life they had been put through. However, he realized that these animals had also killed up to seven human beings. There was no nice way of putting that. When Rossi and Aaron had seen what they needed to, Aaron called Sheriff Weiss and brought the man up to date. He detailed the need for animal control and that they would need a lot of animal control. Weiss had paused and said that he would have to call into multiple counties and vets for help getting all the dogs out of the barn. Hotch understood and agreed. Aaron left one of the policemen to sit in his cruiser just outside the bard to wait as long as it took for the animal control members to arrive and take care of the situation inside the barn. The officer seemed to relax when he realized that he could wait inside his protected vehicle.

With the farm mostly searched and a lot of damning evidence gathered, the team left with Mr. Karon to conduct their first interview. The unsub had said very little except for cursing the officer in the other police car out. The team left another three officers to cordon off the farm and sites of interest. At the precinct, Jeffrey was quickly moved into a room that was normally a holding cell for those who had too much to drink and needed the night to sober up before going home to their wives in shame with another fifty-dollar ticket of disorderly conduct or public indecency. It was the best the small police station had for an interrogation room. Sheriff Weiss had a table and chairs brought in and Derek and Rossi had the first round of trying to get the unsub to talk. Outside the cell _y/n_ paced and Aaron watched them while also looking into the room with Jeffrey. Something was upsetting _y/n_ and he could tell. It was not only the pacing, but the way _y/n_ was just slightly biting the inside of their cheek. After a minute of this, Aaron turned to them and asked, “What it is _y/n_?” _y/n_ turned on their heel and said, “It can’t be him Hotch? You smelled his breath when we first got in the house. It reeked of alcohol and he was stumbling around either because he was drunk or high on meds, or both. I don’t know how a man like that can pull something like this off. Not by himself. Not to mention his leg injury. He can barely walk. He couldn’t possibly handle those dogs in the barn. Plus, we’re looking for a supposed psychopath. Mr. Karon might be disturbed, but he loved those dogs in the house. How does that work?” Aaron nodded. He had felt that something was off too, but having _y/n_ put it into words helped solidify how he felt. _y/n_ said, “It’s something to do with that boy’s room. That makeshift bed in the barn. I think we’re missing something big. I think I should go back.” Hotch nodded and said, “I’m coming with you.” _y/n_ gave him just the smallest smile and said, “Alright. I’ll tell the team, why don’t you start the car? I’ll be out in a minute.” Aaron agreed and moved outside. It didn’t take long for them to get back to the farm. Aaron had an officer go with _y/n_ to the boy’s room, and he and another officer moved back to the barn to look at the cot again. The two were determined to find out what vital piece was missing from the bigger picture.

Back in the interrogation room, Karon wasn’t talking and it had been nearly fifty minutes. Derek was saying, “So what, you get bitten by a dog when you're a kid and then have dogs kill people? What do you gain from that, Karon? Apart from some sick need to see people be torn apart.” The man didn’t answer and Rossi tried another approach saying, “Why keep your bedroom the same Jeffrey? Why lock it up and keep it preserved? Why is it so important to you?” This finally had a response for the unsub and he said, “That room’s special to me, yeah. Gotta keep it like that for when she comes back.” Morgan and Dave looked at each other and Rossi asked, “Who comes back, Mr. Karon? You’re wife? Your son?” Jeffrey put his head in his hands and said, “That goodman bitch of a wife you idiot. My son’s still there. But he’s not like he used to be. And I’m not like I used to be, get it. Before that bitch of a city slicker wife left me everything was fine. FINE! Get it, but she left and it all went bad. Went to goddamn shit.” Morgan cared less about the wife and more about the fact that Jeff had said his son was still on the property, on the farm. Derek asked, “Your son, Karon. Where is he!” Jeff laughed and the built agent raised to his feet and slammed his hands on the table near the unsub, getting him to stop laughing and Morgan said again, “Where is your son!” Karon chuckled a little and said, “Sleeps ‘n the barn at night. I hear four of those cops are still out there, and two of your agents. Pity for them. Jason’s better with the dogs than I am. Has been for the last ten years since my fucking leg’s been acting up more. Motherfucker of a leg.” This realization hit the two FBI agents like a ton of bricks. There was a beat of silence before Rossi rushed out of the room to call Aaron and let him know that Karon’s son was on the farm while Derek worked his best to not beat the crap out of the man in front of him and try and get something that might help Hotch and _y/n_. Rossi paced as he waited for Aaron to pick up. Finally, his friend did, saying, “Hotchner.” Dave nearly yelled, “Karon’s son is still living on the farm. He’s the one letting the dogs out. Where’s _y/n_? Are you with them?”

Aaron’s stomach dropped like a bag of stones as he realized _y/n_ hadn’t checked in in over twenty minutes. He put Dave on hold and called _y/n_. He prayed that they’d pick up, but _y/n_’s phone went to voicemail. Aaron then tried radioing the officer with _y/n_ but all he got was the man sitting outside the barn. Hotch almost threw himself down the ladder to the loft and shouted at the officer at the bottom to follow him. Hotch drove faster the he ever had toward the farmhouse. Something told him that he would find answers there. It had been _y/n_’s last location for starters. Aaron didn’t even bother turning off the car as he and the officer rushed into the house, guns drawn. There was no one in the main room, but sounds were coming from the kitchen. Aaron breached the room and found a large man standing with a clever aim to cut apart a de-feathered chicken. The man froze when Aaron rushed the room and pointed the gun at him, Jason Karon. Hotch shouted, “Put the knife down slowly or I shoot.” The man didn’t seem to care that he was moving incredibly slowly while he set the knife down on the butcher block. Hotch then shouted, “Where is the other agent and officer?” The large man shrugged, and Aaron shouted again, stepping within a foot of the second unsub’s face, “Where is my agent!” Jason said slowly with a small glint in his eyes, “Middle of the wheat field I guess. That fucking agent bit me. Had to tranque ‘em. Dogs ‘ill get ‘em soon. But don’t ya worry. I gave ‘em a fighting chance. Set a timer for the dog's release. It’s no fun to watch them die if they’re tranqued. Dogs ‘ill be out in ‘bout fifteen minutes and if I timed it right, the drugs ‘ill wear off a bit before then. I ain’t never seen a cop die before. Should be fun” There was a devil-may-care attitude that indicated the unsub cared nothing for human life. The rage that filled Aaron nearly had him shoot the man in front of him, but the fact that _y/n_ was still alive and could be torn apart had Aaron brush past Jason and ran out the back door so quickly that he didn’t even tell the officer to restrain the man. He only had thoughts for _y/n_. Hotch straddled the ATV, turned the key that was miraculously still in the ignition and pressed the electronic throttle. Aaron could feel the wind in his face and his hands held onto the handlebars of the ATV with a death grip. He entered the wheat field in around seven minutes and slowed slightly as he got closer to the center. He didn’t want to run over _y/n_, but he knew he had only minutes to find them before both of them were going to face the same fate as all the other victims from before. Just as Aaron heard the first howling of the dogs, he found _y/n_ on the cold ground.

Hotch jumped off the vehicle and ran to _y/n_. Their eyes were open but glazed. _y/n_’s hands were bound, but not their feet. Aaron grabbed _y/n_ and pulled them onto the ATV in front of him. _y/n_ was lucid enough to move their feet with Aaron’s. As Hotch kicked the ignition on again. He saw the first three dogs breach the tall grass. Hotch opened up the throttle. He held _y/n_ to his chest while he tried to press the gas and control the ATV all at the same time. Even at the full thirty miles per hour, the dogs were catching up to them. Aaron felt his heart beat faster than it ever had before. It was like he could hear the breaths of the crazed animals following him, could hear their feet hitting the ground, which would outpace him and _y/n_ soon. Another three minutes and they’d be out of the field, and the police would see what was happening and come to help. At least that was what Aaron hoped. But a sound had Hotch’s heart nearly stop. At the edge of the wheat field, the engine of the ATV spluttered loudly. Hotch looked down at the gas gauge: E. Aaron pushed the machine as far as it would go but it slowed after another thirty seconds, then died.

There was a split second when Aaron thought there was no way for them to live. His mind went blank, black. But _y/n_ stirred, and he knew they couldn’t die. He’d happily die, but _y/n_ couldn’t die. Not like this. They deserved warmth, retirement, and old age, and happiness. And because Aaron couldn’t have the love of his life die, he was forced to think in a split second. This brought up two options. The first was to shoot as many of the dogs as possible. He knew that he wouldn’t get to all of them before the rest overpowered them, but this was an option that would reduce the number of animals that would kill them. Maybe the others would get scared off by the sounds of gunfire. The other option was to make a run for the barn with the loft inside. It was about ten feet from the open barn door. Something in Aaron’s gut told him this was the only option where _y/n_ lived. Aaron didn’t care if he died; he just needed _y/n_ to live.

So with his soul telling him, compelling him forward, Aaron dismounted, pulled _y/n_ over his broad shoulders, and ran the fastest he had ever run before.

Step, step step, breath. Step, step, step breath. Pothole. Twisted ankle. Step, step, step, shooting pain up the leg. The reek of dog breath, and teeth at his legs. Breath. Door, ladder, Teeth in the leg, Foot to dogs mouth, Last step.

Aaron’s heart felt like it might burst, and his muscles had never hurt so much, never been pushed so hard. However, there wasn’t time for that, as one of the dogs had used its legs to get to the top of the ladder. Not even thinking of his gun, Aaron kicked at the dog's head, trying to avoid the now bloody and snapping teeth. When the dog had fallen, Aaron used his hands to tear the old ladder from the loft sending it crashing to the ground below. Even though the ladder was old, it was rusted in place with only Aaron’s adrenaline that allowed him to get it off the loft. Hotch slumped back next to _y/n_. How he had managed to get them both up the ladder, he wasn’t sure. Aaron pushed _y/n_ to the wall and lay very closely pressed to them as there wasn’t room for both of their bodies in the loft. Aaron was half in shock. He didn’t really hear the gunshots from the officers below, but he could somehow feel the heat from the blowback and saw the light flash from the ignitions. The noise seemed to rouse _y/n_ more, and Hotch moved to cover their ears. He was blocking their view of below with his body. Even he didn’t want to see what lay beneath the loft, but after a few minutes, whatever chaos had been happening stopped. Aaron could now see the red and blue lights of either an ambulance or police car on the wall of the barn. Sound suddenly rushed back into Hotch’s senses. He also registered the pain in his body and leg where he had been bitten. Due to his shock, Aaron felt like stuff happened to him for the next two hours. Aaron did make sure that _y/n_ got into the first ambulance that had arrived even though they started saying that he needed it more because he was hurt and they weren’t. In the end, it didn’t matter as the only other ambulance from the small local hospital arrived shortly after. Hotch was given a local anesthetic in his left leg which had been bitten to the muscle below. Aaron was so exhausted, and now that he knew that _y/n_ was safe, he closed his eyes and let everything else that was happening to and around him just wash over him like a flood

It turned out that Aaron needed ten stitches for his bites and a set of antibiotics to make sure that he didn’t let the bite get infected. _y/n_ had been given a larger dose of Tiletamine and they needed to be kept on close observation as that medication was related but not the same as Ketamine and the side effects of that drug on humans were not known as it wasn’t a drug not meant to be used on humans. _y/n_ felt queasy and said they had a bad headache and were weak, but thankfully the symptoms didn’t get much worse than that. After a few hours of close monitoring for both Aaorn and _y/n_. The hospital staff felt that both agents would pull out without too much physical damage. However, the hospital required Aaron to stay put until the local anesthetic wore off so they could assess his pain, and that _y/n_ stay for a full twenty-four hours to ensure there were no long-lasting side effects of the drugs they had been given. Rossi went in and checked on Hotch first, letting him know that _y/n_ was going okay apart from some slight discomfort and nausea. He then explained what had happened since Aaron had been out of the loop for around three hours. How the police had handled most of the dogs by the time the rest of the BAU had arrived. How Jason Karon had been taken into custody and his father had agreed to throw his flesh and blood under the bus for a potentially lighter sentence once he found out that his son had been caught. How Jeffrey Karon had delusions about his wife coming home, how Jason had all the makings of a psychopath, and how together the father and son had made a fun hobby of killing anyone unlucky enough to land on their farm that they both wanted to protect with their lives. Hotch listened with disgust at the narrative and how so many had died for nothing more than a game, a distraction. He reflected on how in some cases, no one seemed to win. There were just losers. But then again, _y/n_ could have died. He could have died. Not that he valued his life much, but _y/n_ was physically okay, and that was enough of a positive to let him relax just a little bit into the bed. Rossi looked down at Aaron from his chair, gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, and said, “You did everything you could, and sometimes that just has to be enough.

The next morning, _y/n_, who had been given some medication to help them sleep, woke to Aaron sitting by their bedside. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes and looked over the parts of their love that they could see. _y/n_ noticed the bandaging on Aaron’s leg, and they asked, “Should you be out of bed?” Hotch chuckled and tried to lighten the mood by saying, “Oh, I just had to fight two nurses to get here from my room.” _y/n_ leveled him with a glare that had him honestly say, “But seriously, they let me out last night after you were under. Rossi insisted that I not stay here all night waiting for you to wake up.” That got a small smile from _y/n_, and they replied, “Remind me to send Rossi a thank you card when we get home.” Aaron laughed again and rolled his eyes before asking, “How are you feeling today? I’m sure the nurses will be in here in a moment to ask you the same, but I’d like to hear it first.” _y/n_ took a moment to think about their physical state before saying, “Better. I still have a bit of a headache, but much better than last night.” Hotch nodded and then looked to the door as two nurses entered the room as he had guessed. The medical staff asked Aaron to sit in one of the chairs near the wall as they performed some routine checks on _y/n_ and assessed their vital signs. After the nurses had given _y/n_ a dose of medication to make sure they remained stable, they left Aaron and _y/n_ alone again, promising to be back in half an hour to check up on _y/n_.

When they had gone, Aaron moved back to his prior seat. _y/n_ held out their hands for Hotch and he took it in his, running his thumb over their knuckles. Aaron looked up and _y/n_ was looking at him with sad eyes, like they knew something already, but they wished it wasn’t true. _y/n_ had a vague memory of some of yesterday, but with the drugs and the excitement, it had seemed to fade; they asked Hotch softly, “Tell me what happened yesterday. Everything that happened.” Aaron hesitated before replying, “_y/n_, it’s not very pleasant. Maybe you should wait a bit.” _y/n_ sighed and said, “Once the team comes to see me they’ll talk about it and I’d rather hear it from you. I do remember the doctor telling me I’m stuck here for twenty-four hours last night which leaves me with about ten hours to spare.” Aaron sighed before realizing that they were right. He recounted the events of the former day to _y/n_. They squeezed his hand as he described how he’d gotten them out of the field and to the barn. How he couldn’t let them die, and how that had saved his own life. _y/n_ didn’t have the right words to thank him for saving their life at that moment, but Aaron could see it, the look of thanks in their eyes. Instead of saying anything else, he leaned down and kissed _y/n_’s forehead. His lips lingered on their skin. Aaron knew that they had saved each other in an unspoken way. Aaron couldn’t let _y/n_ die, and deep down, he knew that they’d never forgive him if he’d died yesterday either, which had pushed him to run instead of shooting at the dogs. _y/n_ seemed to notice his shift in thoughts, and they asked, “And the dogs?” Aaron knew they would ask about the dogs soon. As someone who cherished animals, he knew his response would bring _y/n_ pain. Hotch pulled back and just nodded his head no, indicating the worst. _y/n_ closed their eyes and let out a half breath, half sob, saying, “They didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t know what was happening.” Aaron squeezed their hand and said, “I know, love. But maybe it was a mercy. They weren’t treated well, and I heard from one of the officers that a lot of them looked sick. The state wouldn’t have let them live, and they went quickly.” A few tears fell from _y/n_’s eyes, but they nodded ever so slightly, wanting to believe Aaron. Trusting what he said, even if he had fibbed, even if they could hear him lying to make them feel better. _y/n_ opened their eyes and asked, “What about the dogs from in the house? Those were good dogs? Nice dogs.” Aaron replied, “I’m not sure. I didn’t think about them when we got back to the farm. I’ll call the Sheriff later and see what he says. Maybe animal control came and took them before we got back.” _y/n_ nodded, also remembering how the other dogs had been gone once they arrived. They hoped that at least those dogs that they had petted on the first visit to the barn would find good forever homes, far away from the farm. Far away from Kansas.

Later that evening, _y/n_ was discharged, and the following day, the team was headed back to Quantico after the largest thank you from Sheriff Weiss. Aaron ever so slightly accepted the gratitude but knew with a weariness that another, possibly worse case was waiting for them on JJ’s desk, and the two men shook hands. On the plane, Hotch and _y/n_ both took their mid-day meds from the hospital. _y/n_’s medication left them drowsy, and they moved to sit next to Aaron on the couch, slipping on their headphones and slipping their right hand into his. _y/n_ nestled slightly closer into his side and rested their head on his shoulder. Aaron pressed a kiss to _y/n_’s temple and moved back to the file in his hand. After about twenty minutes, the words began swimming in front of his eyes, and Aaron closed the file and realized he was defeated for the moment. Hotch tapped _y/n_ on the shoulder, and they roused a bit, mumbling, “What is it, Aaron?” Wordlessly, he put out a hand for one of their headphones. _y/n_ smiled and handed one over. Hotch slipped the earbud into his right ear and let the soft soundtrack of Hozier’s “Francesca,” “Northern Attitude,” and _y/n_’s favorite Unknown / Nth” envelope him like a hug. Aaron realized that whenever he listened to this playlist, he could picture _y/n_ so clearly in his mind. Their time together. The soft longing in the Irish man’s voice had become a connection for how much he loved and longed to spend his days with _y/n_. As he slipped off to sleep, he pictured them back home, already nestled in bed, under the covers, skin to skin. His face rested in a calm facade for once as the jet flew thousands of miles above the ground, taking them home.

When they all got back to Virginia, the team went to their separate houses, Aaron and _y/n_ arrived home, ready for some sleep. Aaron went to the kitchen to make them an early dinner while _y/n_ unpacked their go bags and replaced their dirty clothes with fresh ones whenever the next case came their way. Turning on the light, _y/n_ caught sight of their reflection in the mirror, reminded them of how Hotch had looked at himself before the case, the way he spoke of himself. _y/n_ remembered the idea of getting him into a warm bath and showering him with praise while they sat by the side of the tub, rubbing his shoulders and massaging his scalp. The idea sent a flush through them, and they were determined to make it happen after all they had been through on the last case. _y/n_ had to wait a few days until Aaron could be safely submerged in water. His leg had significantly healed, and he was now putting on a topical antibiotic cream to the bite area instead of the stronger oral tablets he’d been taking before. It was Wednesday evening, and _y/n_ sent Hotch off on a short errand to get some tomato sauce and zucchini for dinner. While he was gone, _y/n_ filled the tub with hot water, lit some of their _y/f/c_’s, and dimmed the lights to low in the bedroom. _y/n_ also put a sheet over the standing mirror in the bedroom and a towel over the mirror in the bathroom. This was about Aaron cherishing his body, not putting it under a microscope. Just when all of this was done, _y/n_ heard Aaron enter the apartment and set the grocery bags on the counter. _y/n_ slipped out of the bedroom and found Aaron, kissing him. Hotch smiled at them, and as _y/n_ wordlessly pulled him into the bedroom, he didn’t question it or protest. Aaron did, however, look a bit taken aback as _y/n_ started undoing the buttons of his shirt He asked softly, “Is everything alright, sweetheart?” _y/n_ smiled at him tenderly and said, “It will be when you have your clothes off.” Aaron flushed. _y/n_ was rarely so brazen, and he didn’t know what this was about, but he didn’t stop himself from undoing his belt and sliding his trousers to the ground. Now that his shirt and pants were off, and his skin exposed to the cool air of the room he took _y/n_’s hand and looked at the bed as if asking if they wanted to move there now. _y/n_ leaned down a bit and kissed his chest, running their hands down his torso and beneath the band of his underwear. Hotch took in a sharp breath, flexing his muscles. _y/n_ pulled his last article of clothing down and simultaneously began gently sucking on one of the scars Foyett had left on his upper torso.

Aaron whispered their name and made to move to the bed, but _y/n_ said, “Actually, I drew you a warm bath. I, I kind of thought you might need something relaxing after that last case.” Hotch’s dark eyes changed from something filled with desire to a different kind of want; to be shown affection, and his gaze softened ever so slightly as he whispered, “Would you lead the way?” _y/n_ nodded, taking his hand as they led him to the bathroom. They checked the temperature of the water, and it felt perfect. Aaron kissed _y/n_ once more before settling in the tub. He lowered himself slowly into the water, letting it lap at his thighs, groin, and finally, his chest. He let out a sigh at how comforting the bath felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d treated himself to something like this. He could sense _y/n_ move behind him with soft steps and then get onto their knees near the lip of the tub. _y/n_ dipped their hands in the water and ran them over his broad, muscled shoulders, which were tight from the stress he kept in his neck and upper back. As _y/n_ began running firm hands over the knots, Aaron turned his head to the side and asked, “Would you get in with me, _y/n_?” _y/n_ paused, and though that had not been their original plan, a bath with Aaron sounded like bliss. _y/n_ put their head near this mouth and said, “Okay. Just give me a moment to put away the groceries. I’ll grab you a drink too.” Hotch smiled and nodded. He was happy that if he was going to be so relaxed, that _y/n_ would get to revel in it too.

Aaron didn’t think much about how long _y/n_ was taking to put away the groceries, get him a drink, and then strip in the next room. He kept his eyes closed and pictured _y/n_ and really, without thinking about it, started humming _y/n_’s favorite song. When the tune to the chorus came around, he murmured the words as well in his soft tenor voice. Little did he know that _y/n_ was standing in the doorway listening to him. When _y/n_ stepped forward, he stopped immediately as if embarrassed for singing aloud. _y/n_ didn’t comment yet as they stepped into view, now stripped of their clothes. Aaron looked up at them, reveling in the sight of them fully revealed to him. Not that he didn’t see this every day, but it never failed to take the breath from him. _y/n_ handed him a chilled glass with an amber liquid inside saying, “Thought you might enjoy a scotch.” Aaron downright beamed at _y/n_’s thoughtfulness and said, “You’re singing my song.” _y/n_ smiled and cheekily replied, as they got into the bath, “Actually, I think you were singing my song.” Hotch flushed, as he took his first sip of his drink. There was a silence before _y/n_ asked, “Would you sing the rest of it for me? I don’t think I’ve ever really heard you sing before.” Aaron spluttered for a second, and he said, “Probably because I’m not a good singer, _y/n_. I think my talents lie elsewhere.” _y/n_ gave a soft pout and said, “I think you sounded lovely before. Please, Aaron.” Hotch knew he could never refuse them, and he steeled himself as he finished singing the third verse, bridge, and chorus of Hozier’s lyrics. He was shocked that the words just came to him, as he’d never actually looked them up before. But he guessed he’d just heard it so often and listened to _y/n_ sing them in the car or the shower that they had soaked into his neural paths naturally. After he finished, he looked to _y/n_ for some response.

Their smile told him what he needed to know, and he relaxed back more fully. For a moment there was just the soft sound of water lapping at their bodies. Eventually, _y/n_ said, “You know I love every part of you, right?” Aaron opened his eyes and met _y/n_’s as he responded with, “_y/n_ I…” He dropped the sentence because he didn’t know how to finish it. He did know that they loved every part of him, but he felt this was more than just about their perception of him. Aaron’s silence told _y/n_ that he was thinking and they gently said, “I mean it, Aaron. I love your mind that’s sharp as a razor, and I love your determination to do the right thing and protect people, and I love your body too. No matter how you change with age and time, nothing is going to stop me from loving you wholly. I need you to know that. I wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t been for all three of those things a week back.” The cynical side of his brain had him say, “_y/n_, that was all adrenaline in the heat of the moment.” _y/n_ scoffed at his logic slightly and said, “And? So what? That was your adrenaline that saved me. No one else's. Not the cop’s, not Derek’s. It was you who put your body on the line for me and didn’t let me die in a field in Kansas. You think you’re not capable of things because you’re getting older, but me being here is proof that you’re more capable than you know. And you always will be Aaron.” Hotch felt the weight of their words and emotions in _y/n_’s statement, and he almost started crying. He looked at _y/n_ through bleary eyes and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, _y/n_.” That was all he could get out without letting his tears actually fall. _y/n_ gave him a soft smile of understanding and opened their legs to make space for him, and they patted their chest for him to lean on. Aaron moved so his back was against their chest, and _y/n_ said, “Always, Aaron. We’ll always be there for each other.” Aaron closed his eyes and chose to let go of his negative thoughts for now. Choosing to accept _y/n_’s reality. Choosing to believe that he was worthy. As he settled back into their embrace, _y/n_ started working his aching muscles with their hands, whispering words of praise. He knew he had made it home.

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Tag list: @tgskitten @geminitapestry

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genshin-impact-writings · 2 years

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For the holiday event - Scaramouche and mistletoe, maybe? 😘

Great choice, dear anon! I really enjoyed working on this one, so I hope y'all will like it too. Here's Day 3 of JJ's advent calendar. :)

Day 3: Scaramouche + “mistletoe”

If Scaramouche was being honest, he knew absolutely nothing about the holiday season and the various traditions and customs people put into action each and every year. He didn’t understand why they were making such a fuss about decorating their homes and buying presents for relatives they despised anyway – or what was so special about mulled wine, hot chocolate and cookies. He also didn’t understand why you were acting so embarrassed and weird since you had run into him a couple of minutes ago. Usually, you appeared to be quite happy whenever your paths crossed but today, you avoided his gaze at all costs, focusing on everything else but him. Especially the bundle of twigs that was hanging in the doorframe, tied together with a red ribbon, seemed to catch your attention.

“You’re acting all weird today,” Scaramouche finally said. “What is wrong?”

For a couple of seconds, you remained silent. Then, with an awkward chuckle, you pointed at the greenery above your heads. “That’s a mistletoe,” you explained, clearly hesitant to continue when all he did was raise his eyebrows. “So, usually… the two people standing beneath them have to, um, kiss.”

“Kiss,” Scaramouche repeated in a tone like he had never heard the word before, and you felt your face heat up. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not – it’s surely not mandatory, so… we could just walk away and pretend like this never happened, or we could-“

You stopped talking when Scaramouche took a step forward, resting one of his hands on your hip while the other found its way to the back of your head, gently guiding you forward until your lips met in a soft, almost chaste kiss.

And right after breaking the kiss, he suddenly found himself craving more. So, he kissed you a second time. And a third time. And maybe, just maybe, some holiday traditions weren’t too bad, after all.

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @the-gayest-sky-kid @ajaxstar @genshinparty

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact blurb #jj's advent calendar #jj's december event

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saeyoungchips · 2 years

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[6:07 p.m]

the first of december was special for your family. to celebrate the beginning of december, winter, and the christmas season, you were used to the tradition of drinking hot chocolate on this day as a form of welcome.

this year went on with a little surprise as you went downstairs when your mom called you, to be found with your brother's best friend, jaemin, drinking cocoa among your family.

you surely weren't expecting the sight you found in your house's living room, not only because of jaemin but mostly because everyone was wearing ugly christmas sweaters except you.

you politely greeted him, only to discreetly go sit next to your mom and ask her what was happening.

"oh, didn't your brother tell you?" she asked you in surprise. "jaemin's parents aren't in the city right now, so he invited him to stay the day with us."

"what about the sweaters then?" you still didn't understand what all of this was about, and you started to feel a little down as you felt excluded by your own family.

"it's my parents' tradition." jaemin, who seemed to have been eavesdropping on your conversation, intervened to explain. "your mom said all of you would do it for me too, so i wouldn't feel alone."

"oh." was all you could manage to get out of your mouth.

so, jaemin who quickly caught on to your feelings and didn't want you to feel bad because of him, took off his sweater and gave it to you.

"you can have it." he smiled at you with the kindest smile you had ever seen.

after that gentle gesture, you couldn't say no, and when he turned away to your brother, you unconsciously brought it to your nose. the scent that filled your nostrils warmed your insides and made you think that you could get used to seeing jaemin more often this december.

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thehalfbloodedwitch · 2 years

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Too Good to be true Blurb (D.m. x reader)

Pairing- Draco x Femreader

Summary- Some things aren't always meant to end happily| Angst

Words- 1,100

Draco Masterlist Main Masterlist

ੈᵔ ᵕ ᵔ❅*.ೃ

A lovely honey voice yelled, "Y/n/n, hurry up!". Y/n peeked her head out of the dressing table mirror and exclaimed, "Coming Pans!"

As Pansy dragged Y/n across the Hogwarts hallway, she remarked, "We're going to be late again, and it's all thanks to you." " We wouldn't have been late", Y/n said, "If it weren't for this ridiculous outfit that I had to find and that took so damn long." Pansy laughed in response.

McGonagall eyed the two of them and said, "Late again Miss Parkinson and Y/l/n?" "Sorry Professor, it wouldn't happen again," said Y/l/n. The professor then stated, "This is the third time you both are late, so 10 points from Slytherin. Now don't repeat this again."

"10 points? All thanks to you both "As Y/n and Pansy took a seat in the second-to-last row, a cold voice from the back spoke. Pansy replied, "It wasn't my fault." " Come on, it's just ten. Win the quidditch cup and bring our points up again, then we'll talk." Y/n then turned to face the boy with the blonde hair and said, as his grey eyes met hers.

"Come on man! She's simply perfect," commented Mattheo, who was sitting next to him. "This girl is just something I can't explain through words, I don't know what it is," Mattheo said as Draco scowled and rolled his eyes at him.

When Pansy and Y/n began to make notes on their parchment, McGonagall yelled, "Silence!" and directed all four of their eyes back to the class.

Mattheo's eyes were transfixed on Y/n as she and Pansy exited the classroom because he has had a crush on her since he first had seen her in the courtyard one day reading a book that she had taken from the library. Mattheo has always admired her bravery, wit, and snarky remarks.

Pansy Parkinson had always been madly in love with Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince and the most intriguing and cold person at Hogwarts, whereas Mattheo had a huge crush on Y/n Y/l/n. Pansy had always admired Draco for his intelligence and his mysterious personality; no one could ever know what he was thinking or feeling at any one moment; he was a puzzle that needed to be solved.

"You don't understand, Y/N! His flawless eyes "Pansy remarked, her dreamy gaze straying into nothing.

Draco rolled his eyes at Mattheo as he continued, "Her pretty smile when she reads."

Both of them were sick of hearing about their crushes and how they were, so they needed some time alone. "I am going to take some fresh air," remarked Y/n as she stood up and headed for the common room. "I need to get some fresh air, Theo." asid Draco and headed outside the dorm room.

Y/n heard footsteps approaching the common room as she sat on the couch next to the fireplace. Though she didn't mind sharing the space with another person at that time. She did not look around to see who it was and instead focused on the fireplace.

When Draco first noticed a person sitting near the fireplace, he was shocked. At first, he considered waiting for the person to depart, but after a few minutes, it became clear that the person had no intention of leaving, so Draco settled down on the couch and continued to observe the person.

The girl sitting next to the fireplace, who had Y/e/c eyes and beautiful pink lips, had her face partially lighted by the fire from the fireplace. Although the girl looked angelic, it was easy to identify her as Y/n. What was it about the girl Mattheo, his best friend, was so captivated with?

Even though they were sitting in the same common room, Draco and she were unable to speak with one another because they had never really talked much. "Hey, isn't it a little late for you to be up? " Y/n moved into her spot and asked. Draco answered, "I could ask you the same thing," with a chuckle, and Y/n's lips were sealed.

"Draco inquired, folding his arms across his chest, "So, what brought you here?" "Oh, me? I simply needed a break from friend drama. What about you?" "Me? Same" Draco replied and silence followed his words.

After a long pause and after glancing around, Y/n said, "Why don't you sit close to the fireplace?" Draco said, "Uhm, why though?" Y/n asked Draco, "Don't you feel cold? It's December, the coldest month ever." "No, I actually don't" Draco replied.

"I won't bite, so don't worry." Y/n teased Draco, who responded with a smirk: "I don't mind you biting me, honey, I'm not worried about that." Y/n pretended to fake gag and answered, "You know what? Forget that I ever offered you to sit here."

Draco remarked, "Now that I think about it, I should sit near the fireplace," to which Y/n sarcastically responded, "Oh, don't bother, you aren't welcome here anymore." Draco then sat down after giving her a nudge.

"It is warm here," he said, "Duh, it's fire" Y/n replied as the both of them started at each other for some time and then looked at the fireplace. This time the silence was serene and tranquil.

But despite the fact that Y/n and Draco had never met before and had never even spoken to one another, let alone sat next to one another, the two couldn't stop staring at one another.

They felt queasy for reasons they couldn't quite put their finger on, but they hoped they had some understanding of it before what was about to happen.

The two Slytherins immediately clicked when they started joking about and talking to each other the following day, and they quickly became close friends.

They both knew exactly when they fell in love with one another, but they didn't realize it until it came time to say goodbye for good. Mattheo invited her out on a date on the day the four of them graduated from Hogwarts.

It made Draco sick to his stomach to think that Y/n was in love with someone else. He could see the gleam in Y/n's eyes as she nodded and said, "Yes, I would love to Theo!"

Draco felt like his world was collapsing, like the ground beneath him had given way, and he was sinking helplessly while Y/n and Mattheo went on multiple dates.

A few years later, Y/n stopped by to visit his best friend Draco. While he was joyfully snuggling with Pansy Parkinson and, something felt terribly off to her, and Y/n was unable to look at the scene. Her mouth became dry, and her heart was racing as she turned her head and looked in another direction. This was wrong.

The dreaded day came, the day the both of them had to talk to one another, talk about where they stood in this relationship.

"What are we?" Y/n asked, she couldn't hold her emotions any longer, "We're friends?" Draco said as he whispered to himself just friends.

"Then why do I feel, something, when I see you and Pansy together, I should be happy for you but, that's not what I feel" "Rather you feel anger, jealousy, or any other emotion?" Draco continued, and Y/n nodded.

"Maybe we are meant to be friends," Draco said, as his eyes fell to the ground, a tear slipped his eye when they both realized they were in love but were too late to ever notice, Don't worry darling, this isn't over yet, but this is goodbye, for now, Draco said, placing his hand on her waist and kissing her lips as the clock behind them rang to announce that it was Christmas.

"I never imagined Christmas could ever be this miserable. I wish I knew-" Draco interrupted her by placing his finger on her lips." It's okay, dear, we'll meet again, perhaps in another life, but we will, and then I won't be so oblivious."

Draco then carefully pulled his hand away from her waist and walked away without turning around. He knew he would never be able to look at her again without the desire to stay, but he couldn't do this to Pansy or his best friend Mattheo.

A snowflake fell on his shoulder as a tear slipped out of his eye, Y/n just stared at the door while holding her tears, she never thought she would ever find love, and once she found her love, it was too late, Y/n wiped her tears and spoke, "I want to go back to a time before it was too late" as tears slipped down her eyes and she sat down on the chair, thinking of the moments she had with him, which she could never recreate with him. Never.

ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ❅*.ೃ

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Tags for Draco December- @alexis-angelsss @blackthunder137 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingwitch007 @kimberlyxmalfoy @offlines-idfk @dreamnotfound231 @myworldgoesboomz @staywildmoonchild91 @blisias @lazydreamer19 @fuurinbae @setef4nie @tsuki-tsukii @elizabethmalfoy16 @webofanxiety @turquoiseicepop @itchywitch33 @dr4cosimp

Tags for Draco Taglist- @nicofiliac @steveslittlesunflower @slythermuf @cait2212 @tsukibaby1 @dracoslittleangel @enchantedforever @gachabella23 @raajali3 @siriusblackstwin @ravenqueen777

Edit- I added the tags on 25th December because I was very lazy to add the tags on 22nd

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mvngo-muffin · 2 years

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alone with you

the sound of falling water from the bathroom ceased as you lay on your bed, phone in hand, reading a news article, the brightness of your screen bouncing off your face. it had been a long few weeks for both you and your boyfriend, and even though it was nearing midnight, you were glad that he was home today.

the door to the bathroom creakily opened, and soobin stepped out, a trail of warmth and steam seemingly following him. he was wearing a comfortable set of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie you had bought for him, a white towel in his hand.

you sat up as he walked over to you, a tired smile on his face, his blonde hair wet against his forehead. you smiled widely back at your boyfriend, his shy demeanor too cute to ignore. you motioned for him to sit in front of you on the bed and took the hand towel from him.

he sat legs crossed ahead of you as you quietly hummed a song and dried his hair with the towel, softly rubbing his head and running your fingers through his locks. he whispered a soft, "thank you," as you continued, giving him a small kiss on the top of his head.

quiet december nights like these when you were alone with soobin somehow felt the best, his body close and warm against yours, a simple tune floating between you two.

song: alone with you - the brummies

#blonde soobin???#love #also ik its not december yet im just excited #txt #choi soobin #txt soobin #soobin imagines #soobbin fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #soobin x reader #txt fluff #soobin blurbs #tomorrow x together #tubatu #soobin

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purple-the-turtle · 9 months

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sorry I’ve been so inactive yall!!! I promise I’ll cook smth up before the year ends

#I was gonna say for christmas but I might be getting a little too ahead of myself #Lowkey forgot December keeps going after the 25 💀#purple blurbs #Would you still love me if it was a pondside drawing…..

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 11 months

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If you vote for the last one tell me what trope you’d like instead 🤭!!

#I’m so excited for the holidays #and I’m finally feeling motivated!#so since I’ve only posted 2 things for you guys this year I thought I’d get a little head start before the December craze #:)#fairy!harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing

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xaviergalatis · 10 months

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EEE Pc

& Acer aspire R 11

#photos #diary #12 #2023 #12/6/2023 #6th #December #Wednesday #computing #pc #windows #acer #eee #r11 #daw #photographs #blurb #musicdiary #x #ia #io #.io

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puppy-coded · 2 years

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»--December Blurb Prompt List--«

navi. who i write for. as prompts get requested i'm going to add the character. i will not do the same prompt twice.

1: hot chocolate conversations{l.l.}

2: snow day{r.l.}

3: snowman building competition{p.m}

4: snowball fight

5: forgot warm clothes + eddie munson(anon)

6: snow angels

7: icy stairs/ground

8: snowed in

9: blanket forts + eddie munson(@/goldenbrownanddistasteful)

10: ice skating

11: winter wonderland

12: warming each other up

13: stargazing on the roof + regulus black(@/mad-elia)

14: below freezing

15: going home for the holidays

16: gift shopping + robin buckley(@/sw34terw34ther)

17: seeing christmas lights

18: christmas movie marathon

19: holiday traditions

20: holiday bake-off + peeta mellark(@/juneberrie)

21: christmas party

22: softening the grinch

23: christmas stories

24: waiting up all night + bucky barnes(@/myobmaya)

25: christmas with everyone

26: sleepy day + eddie munson(@/myobmaya)

27: fireplace cuddles

28: knitting/crocheting/embroidering together

29: northern lights + remus lupin(@/applebitten)

30: taking down decorations

31: new year + percy jackson(@/juneberrie)

#·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚the goddess speaks˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙#december blurbs #december prompts #december prompt list

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pinkslaystation · 6 months

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Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #john price angst #john price fluff #task force 141 #captain price

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 9 months

Text

Do You Still Love Me?

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

word count - 3.1k

23rd December, 2023.

The December air in Holmes Chapel holds a crisp chill, and as you sit in the cozy living room of Harry's family home in Manchester, the warmth envelops you. The room is adorned with festive cheer – a beautifully decorated Christmas tree takes center stage, casting a soft glow of twinkling lights.

The two of you had decided to spend Christmas at his family’s like you do every year, you’ve blended into a member of there family, as if you were always there. Anne considered you as another daughter, and sometimes on accident you sometimes referred to Gemma as your sister, so spending Christmas with them was undoubtedly a no brainer.

You were going to be staying for a total of three weeks, arriving two weeks before the big day and then going home January 1st.

You find comfort on the sofa, admiring the personalized stockings that hang from the mantelpiece, proudly displaying everyone’s initials. One for Harry, one for you, one for Gemma, one for Anne as well as one that is put up every year, an R, for everyone’s angel Robin. The stockings serve as a poignant reminder of the shared holiday traditions and the presence of loved ones, including a thoughtful tribute to his late stepfather.

As you await Harry's return from the grocery shop with his mother and sister, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. The crackling fireplace adds a soothing soundtrack to the scene, enhancing the coziness of the room. You can't help but reflect on the significance of spending Christmas in this familiar space, filled with memories of the past four years.

However, amidst the festive atmosphere, a subtle unease lingers. Lately, you've observed a shift in Harry's demeanor. His actions and words have become increasingly shifty, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

He dances around conversations, offering vague responses that only intensify your curiosity. It's a stark contrast to the openness and connection you've shared over the years, causing a quiet concern to settle within you.

You gaze at the stockings once more, the embroidered initials a testament to the bonds that tie your lives together. Yet, as you sit in the glow of the Christmas lights, a question lingers in the air – a question you can't quite bring yourself to voice. The flickering flames cast shadows on the wall, mirroring the uncertainty that clouds your thoughts, which happen to consist of the three moments that you’ve caught him acting weird.

15th December, 2023.

The date was December 15th, and the evening held a quiet tension as you sat on the sofa in Harry's family home, the soft glow of lamplight illuminating the room.

Anne, occupied herself with knitting a jumper, a rhythmic pattern of needles clacking together in the stillness. The warmth of the room, usually comforting, now seemed to underscore an unspoken discomfort.

Around eight at night, the front door creaked open, and Harry entered, an unusual weariness etched across his features.

He had gone out around two, and it was now evening, he just explained to you that a few friends from school wanted to meet up before Christmas, but there was a hint of doubt that remained in your brain.

You couldn't help but inquire about his whereabouts, a hint of concern in your voice.

"Where've you been, Harry?" you asked, eyes searching his face for answers. He shrugged nonchalantly, a vague response that only deepened the unease settling in the room.

Attempting to break through the tension, you pressed further, a furrow forming on your brow. "What's wrong?"

The question hung in the air, met with a dismissive reply.

"Just tired, m’love. Think I might hit the hay early tonight," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The words lingered, laden with unspoken weight, leaving you with a sense of disquiet.

As Harry made his way toward the stairs, you couldn't let the matter rest. Concern etched across your face, you followed him, determined to understand the source of his unease. His hand halted you mid-step, a silent plea for space. Unbeknownst to you that it pained him, because he was doing it for the right reason.

"I'd like t’be alone for a little bit," he uttered, the distance in his eyes leaving you feeling shut out.

Left standing at the foot of the staircase, a chasm seemed to widen between you and Harry. The uncertainty echoed in the air, and as he ascended the stairs, the door to understanding remained firmly closed. The normally familiar and comforting surroundings felt alien, the clinking of Anne's knitting needles a somber soundtrack to the unspoken rift.

That night, as you lay in bed, questions lingered in the darkness. The echoes of Harry's vague responses resonated, and a sense of foreboding cast a shadow over what was once a haven of warmth and connection.

19th December, 2023.

The chill of December hangs in the air as you step through the front door, returning from the farmers market with Gemma. The aroma of fresh produce lingers on your clothes, and a shiver runs down your spine as the warmth of the cozy living room beckons.

The house is quiet, save for the faint sounds emanating from the kitchen, where Harry is preparing a cup of coffee for himself.

You navigate the familiar space, following the scent of brewing coffee that wafts through the air. The kitchen is dimly lit, and there he is, Harry, standing by the counter, lost in the quiet ritual of making coffee. His silhouette is a comforting sight, a presence that adds to the warmth of the home.

You make your way up the steps, wanting to be comfy when you greet your lover boy.

The December cold clings to your skin, urging you to shed the layers of the outside world. A yearning for warmth and comfort consumes you, and the thought of slipping into one of Harry's oversized shirts becomes a tempting refuge. The familiarity of his presence in the adjacent room promises solace in the face of the winter chill.

As you move toward the bedroom, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet seem to echo in the quietude of the house.

Gemma strolled into the kitchen, the door swinging gently behind her. She found her brother,

Harry, leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans hung in the air as he greeted her with a cheerful " ‘Ey, how was the market?"

Gemma looked up, offering a warm smile. "It was good, got some nice stuff.

Harry hummed before tilting his head to the side. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gemma mirrored his smile, her eyes lighting up. "She went upstairs to get changed, though."

Harry nodded, his attention momentarily diverted as he took another sip of his coffee. However, a realisation dawned on him, and he furrowed his brow. "Wait, she's upstairs?"

Gemma, unaware of the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned wanting to warm up and change. Why?"

Harry's gaze darted toward the staircase, a sudden sense of urgency gripping him.

"No reason, just wanted t’check on ‘er. Be right back," he said, placing his coffee mug on the counter.

With a quick stride, he headed toward the stairs, a mild curiosity turning into a subtle concern. As he ascended, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When he reached the top of the staircase, he spotted you about to enter the bedroom, ready to change.

"Hold on a sec," he called out, hastily covering the distance to stand before you, his expression a mix of surprise and tension. "Y’not allowed in there."

Because in his head, if you wanted to get changed, you’d go to his section of the wardrobe because he knows that you’d want one of his shirts, and then you’d find the surprise and he wasn’t planning on ruining that any time soon.

You paused, mid-step, your brow furrowing. "What do you mean, not allowed? H, I'm just getting changed."

His features tightened with an unexpected intensity. "I said, y’not allowed in there," he repeated, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Confusion and concern painted your expression as you took a step back. "Harry, what's going on? Why can't I go into our bedroom?"

His gaze remained fixed, a wall building between you two. "Just... not right now. I need Don't go in there."

You sighed, a heavy breath escaping you, and nodded in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Just get me some clothes, please."

Harry's shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before nodding. "Ye’okay. I'll get y’some clothes."

22nd December, 2023.

You can't help but replay the scenes in your mind—the December evenings, the vague responses, the moments when he seemed to withdraw. Each memory adds a layer of doubt, and as you connect the dots, a stray tear rolls down your face. The fear of him cheating on you lingers, casting a shadow over the warmth that once permeated your shared space.

The absence of Harry, his mother, and sister intensifies the solitude, and the room feels emptier than ever. The Christmas tree, adorned with memories, offers little solace in the face of the growing suspicion. You contemplate the significance of the three instances, questioning the foundation of trust that once defined your relationship.

In the quiet of the room, the tear on your cheek becomes a silent witness to the emotional turmoil within. The fear of betrayal, the uncertainty, and the unanswered questions create a palpable tension, leaving you to grapple with the haunting possibility that the person you love may be slipping away.

As the front door creaks open, signaling their return from the grocery shopping trip, Harry, his mother, and sister step into the living room. The warmth of familial greetings fills the air, and they collectively acknowledge your presence with smiles and hellos. The shared laughter and banter among them, however, are met with a strained silence on your part.

As Harry approaches, intending to seal the reunion with a customary kiss, you rise from the sofa. The heaviness in the room seems to amplify as you avoid his attempt at affection. You make a deliberate choice to distance yourself, turning away from the warmth that once brought solace and comfort.

With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each footfall echoing a growing emotional distance. The decision to retreat upstairs becomes a silent declaration of your need for space, a momentary escape from the complexities that have woven themselves into your relationship. The unanswered questions and the lingering fear make it challenging to engage in the familial camaraderie that unfolds below.

As you walk away and ascend the stairs, the atmosphere in the living room subtly shifts. Anne, Harry's mother, notices the change in dynamics and glances at her son, concerned etching her features.

"Everything alright, love?" she asks, a mother's intuition sensing the unspoken tension.

Harry, removing his jacket and shoes, offers a dismissive smile. "Ye’, just gonna check on (Y/N) . Be right back."

His attempt to brush off the situation adds a layer of ambiguity to the air, leaving Anne with a lingering worry that she can't quite shake.

Upstairs, Harry follows in your footsteps, the silence between you palpable. As he enters the room, he finds you standing near the window, gazing out into the night.

"Ey’," he begins tentatively, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "S’going on? Are y’okay?"

Tearfully, you turn around to face him, emotions laid bare in your eyes. The air is thick with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty as you pose a question that lingers in the silent space,

"Do you still love me?"

The vulnerability in your voice cuts through the room, leaving an atmosphere heavy with the anticipation of his response. Harry, caught off guard by the rawness of the question, searches your eyes for understanding.

Harry, caught off guard, furrows his brow defensively. "F’course, I do. Why would y’even think otherwise?"

His tone carries a mixture of hurt and frustration, an instinctive response to the implication that the love between you might be in question.

The room becomes charged with an anguished tension as you gather the courage to voice the unspoken concerns that have festered. "It's just... you've been acting so differently lately. There are these moments, these instances when you seem so distant. I can't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Harry's defensive stance persists as he denies any wrongdoing.

"M’don't know what y’talking about. S’nothing going on," he insists, avoiding eye contact. The weight of his denial adds another layer to the unease in the room, leaving you to grapple with the growing chasm between you two.

The frustration builds, and you press further, "Harry, you can't just brush this off. It feels like you're hiding something, and I deserve to know what's going on."

The plea in your voice is met with a guarded expression from Harry, his defensive walls standing tall.

The room seems to tighten with each passing moment, the emotional stakes escalating.

"M’not hiding anything," Harry asserts, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Y’reading into things, making a big deal out f’nothing."

As the back-and-forth continues, a sense of despair settles in.

"Harry, I need honesty. We can't move forward if you keep shutting me out," you implore, the depth of your emotions exposed. Yet, his walls remain intact, and the elusive nature of the truth becomes a palpable barrier.

The echoes of their laughter from downstairs seem like distant memories now, drowned out by the intensity of the conversation unfolding.

"Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what's going on,the time you stopped me coming upstairs with you, the time you stopped me coming into the bedroom and had a go at me for wanting to go on your phone " you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of the unresolved tension.

The emotional exchange reaches a breaking point, leaving you on the floor, sobbing, desperate for answers. The weight of the uncertainty, the unspoken tensions, and the fear of losing the connection you once cherished overwhelm you. The room becomes a backdrop for your vulnerability, the walls echoing with the sound of your heartache.

Amidst your tears, you hear Harry sigh, and the rustle of a box catches your attention. He crouches down beside you, the heaviness in the air momentarily shifting.

"Look at m’please," he implores gently, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity that cuts through the emotional fog.

Hesitant, you raise your tear-stained eyes to meet his. His gaze holds a mixture of regret and determination, and he asks you to stand up. Every fiber of your being is hesitant, a cocktail of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Reluctantly, you rise, uncertainty written all over your face.

As you stand, Harry, now on one knee, pulls out a small box. The room seems to hold its breath as he meets your gaze.

"V’been acting shifty because v’been planning this," he confesses, his voice soft yet earnest. "I wanted it t’be a surprise, but the timing... it just got all messed up."

"From the moment we met, m’life gained a sparkle that I never knew I needed. V’been m’confidante, m’partner in laughter, and the steady warmth that completes every corner of m’world. These past four years ‘ave been a journey f’growth, laughter, and endless love. Y’seen me at m’best and m’worst, yet y’loved m’unwaveringly."

He lets out a soft sigh. “Will y’make m’the happiest person in the world and say yes?"

Overwhelmed by the heartfelt speech and the flood of emotions, you fall into Harry's waiting arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the reality of the moment. His arms wrap securely around you, and you find solace in the familiar comfort of his presence. With tears of joy streaming down your face, you look into his eyes, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you.

In a tender exchange, you press a loving kiss to his lips, the connection deepening as the weight of the proposal lifts from the room.

"Yes," you whisper against his lips, the word echoing with the promise of a shared future.

"Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes," you repeat, each affirmation punctuating the joy that now fills the space between you.

The room seems to shimmer with the shared happiness, and Harry holds you closer, his own eyes reflecting the relief and joy of the moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, the words a gentle reassurance that lingers in the air.

Harry tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"M’sorry f’being so sneaky and, well, a bit harsh," he admits, sincerity coloring his gaze. "I just wanted the proposal t’be a surprise, but I guess v’already messed that up."

A light laugh escapes him, the sound a blend of amusement and relief. "Guess I couldn't keep it under wraps as well as I thought."

You join in the laughter, finding the humor in the unexpected twists of the evening.

"Well, surprise or not, it's the most wonderful thing that could have happened. I can't wait to be Mrs. Styles," you express, your eyes reflecting the genuine excitement that courses through you.

Harry's eyes soften with affection as he hears those words, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M’can't wait either, m’love," he whispers, his voice carrying the promise of a shared future.

The room becomes a haven of shared laughter, love, and the promise of forever. Harry, still on one knee, takes your hand and delicately kisses the engagement ring.

"S’ring represents the love we've shared and the life we're about t’build together," he says, his words a poignant acknowledgment of the significance of the moment.

The room, once filled with questions and uncertainty, is now brimming with the certainty of love and the anticipation of a future together as Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

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