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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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The Quiet Ones 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: first draft of my final assignment is done, just need to do a few other things for class and I'm pretty much done.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

As night falls, you feel woozy. You don’t know how much longer you can hold out. The boxed macaroni and cheese only made your stomach hurt and you’re pretty much out of water. Tomorrow you might just have to venture outside and hope he’s not around. Somehow, you don’t think he’s ever gone. He seems to always be watching.

You can’t focus on your book. The edges of your vision are hazy and your head is pounding. You close it and look for something to watch. You just as quickly forget what you’re doing and shut off the television. You’re too weak to make it to the bed. You're tired, you just want to sleep.

You look at the window before you lay down, then glance down. The light isn’t there yet. Its absence unsettles you. You wouldn’t exactly prefer it was but it not being there makes you wonder if something else is coming.

You’re too exhausted to worry about it. You close your eyes as you lay flat on the couch. You exhale and let your body relax. The tension is as tiring as anything else. You’re always wound up tight, always waiting, always watching. You just don’t have anything left in you.

That familiar drifting sensation takes over you. Your eyelids itch and your muscles grow heavy. You slip into your unconscious little by little until your shrouded in a deep unbreakable darkness. You’re not scared or frustrated or happy or sad. You’re just tired.

The shatter of glasses splices through your momentary escape. You groan as you eyes snap open and you lay in the dimness of your apartment. What happened? The light was on when you passed out. What was that noise?

You push yourself up to your elbows and look at the window. There’s not green light but something worse. The window is broken. The jagged glass shines with moonlight as shards litter the floor. You sit up all the way and scramble around, unable to make sense through the darkness and your own sluggish perception.

You reach for the lamp and try to turn it on. On, off, on, off. You shake your head, trying to free yourself from the clouds, and stagger to your feet. You go to the wall and flip the switch for the overhead light. Nothing. The power must be out. You can’t even hear the hum of the fridge.

A tickle crawls into your throat and you cough. You smell smoke. You go to your desk and feel around for your phone. You wait for it to turn on as the dryness in your nose and throat build. You finally get the flashlight glowing on your cell and shine it around the room.

The haze isn’t in your mind. The apartment is filling with smoke. You pull your shirt up over your nose and cough again. Your eyes burn as you try to see through the fog. There’s a dark shape on the carpet spewing fumes. What the heck?

Adrenaline kicks in and instinct has you feet moving before you can think. You can’t breath. The smoke gets thicker as your eyes stream and you rack with coughs. You hit the door with your body, clawing at the lock, fingers aching as you twist back the latch. You waver as you step back, pulling the door inward and stumble into the hall.

Your feet hit the floor clumsily, flat and thumping, thunderous in the hue of night. You hack again, hand on your chest, and tumble to your knees. You grip your head as the strength drains from your body, seeping away little by little. Are you dying? Is this it?

You fall onto your side and suck in deep breaths. Your head lolls and your arm falls slack beside you. Your eyes roll up and a black silhouette appears above you. A tongue clicks and a whistle blows out.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, baby cakes,” the timbre skews in your ears as your lashes close, “don’t worry...” the world shifts beneath you, “daddy’s got you.”

👄

You don’t dream. You don’t think. You don’t feel. There is only endless black.

A sliver of light pierces the void. It's too bright. Painfully so. Your eyes slit and you peek out from beneath heavy eyelids. You don’t recognise those walls, the bed is too soft to be yours, and this place doesn’t smell familiar. You take a deep breath and force your eyes open.

Soft light glows through large panes to your left. The bed on which you lay is swathed in the dull tones of the morning rising just outside. You’re laid beneath blankets, several layers that make you sweat, and a cushy pillow cradles your head, many more litter the bed along the top. There’s too much of everything.

The ceiling and walls are black, the bed frame too, the silky and dark, with a fluffy zebra print throw across the foot. You can’t see much more as you lay on your back. You might not know where you are but you can certainly figure who brought you there.

On cue with your consciousness, the opposite the bed opens and you raise your head to watch a shadow enter. It reminds you of another figure, that one rippled with disorientation and impending darkness. He reaches to flip the switch beside the door and the two sconces mounted above the bet light up.

It’s him. It wouldn’t be anyone else. That stranger from the cafe. Your personal tormentor. The man who calls himself Lloyd and a litany of ridiculous names.

He stares back at you. You’re struck dumb with the dregs of you unconcscious and disbelief, meanwhile he looks almost giddy. A smile curves his lips under the line of hair and he rubs his palms together as he shifts his weight between his feet. He raises his hands appeasingly.

“Jellybean, before you scream, please hear me out,” he pleads.

You couldn’t scream if you tried. You’re too weak. This can’t be happening. Why would you be here? In a nice bed, in a nice room. You should be in some twisted torture chamber or out in the middle of the woods. If he’s going to kill you, he needs to at least be straightforward about.

He turns and strides over to another door; a closet. He slides it open and tuts as he browses the contents. You can’t see past him. You barely even try as you let your head fall back against the pillow.

“So, thoughts?” He turns to face you again as he holds up two hangers, “the navy is cute. I like the polka dots and the see throughness here and here, but the pink would bring out your complexion.”

Your eyes flit down and you gape at the two dresses, one in each hand. You shake your head and blink. You bring a hand up and touch your forehead, a grumble slipping free.

“You’re right, jellybean, it’s late,” he turns to put the dresses back in the closet, “we can deal with that in the morning. It’s not too far away... just a few hours.”

He nears the bed and you shrink down, curling your shoulders in as you fold your arms over the blankets. He lowers himself next to you, an elbow in the pillows as he peers down at you. He reaches to touch your cheek and you try to move away. He barely seems to notice as he strokes your face.

“I’ve just been so excited I can’t sleep,” he drags his knuckle around lightly, “but I didn’t want to wake you up. You need to rest. After everything you’ve been through.” He brings his legs up onto the bed and wiggles down to his side, “I know you don’t take care of yourself like you should, baby face, but that’s okay, because you have me now.”

“Why... are you doing this?” You wisp out.

He laughs, “you’re so funny...” he pets your chin, “and cute and...” he trails his hand down and squeezes your shoulder, “small. You’re adorable.”

“Please,” you groan.

“Why am I doing what?” He asks coyly, “why am I taking care of you? Why am I ready to give you everything? Why am I dying just to hear your voice and see your face and...” he stops and leans in, giving a deep sniff, “smell your hair?”

You want to shrivel up. Your lip quivers as the daze recedes and the fear sets in. He’s delusional and you have no way out. You don’t even know where you are. It hardly matters, you doubt you could get very far.

“You’re right. We should sleep. We have tomorrow to get settled in,” he reaches back to flip the light switch next to the bed, dimming the sconces back to black.

He lifts himself to free the blankets from beneath him and sidles under them. He nestles close as you go rigid. He slips his arm under you as he nuzzles your cheek.

“And every day after that. We have a whole lifetime ahead of us, jellybean. Me and you. Together forever...” he stretches his other arm over your stomach, “I never liked fairy tales before, babes. Not til you.”

You close your eyes. You’re tired but there’s no way you’re falling back asleep. This is a waking nightmare.

👄

The man, Lloyd, starts to snore. You feel his muscles relax and feel his breath steady against you. As much as you want to push him away and run, you can’t. You don’t know what it is. It’s akin to sleep paralysis. You’re awake but you can’t fight what’s happening. Something in your mind tells you it’s futile.

The sun rise on the other side of the large windows. In any other circumstance, you would admire a place like this. The sleek furniture, the luxurious blankets, the expansive view. It’s a far cry from your cramped apartment and its small windows.

You can only wallow in helpless self-pity. How did this happen? How did you let it happen? If you hadn’t been so indulgent, you would’ve never been seen. You should’ve known better than to go down to that cafe and splurge on something so menial. You could have made your own tea. You could’ve stayed inside, stayed safe.

His closeness has you sweating. It’s uncomfortable and itchy. You want to rip your skin off.

He moves and you hold your breath. He’s waking up. That can’t be good. At least asleep, he can’t do much. You curl your fingers into your palm and wait.

“Mmm,” he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss, his mustache tickles, “this is heaven. I can’t...” he pushes himself up, planting his hand on the mattress, “I can’t believe this is real. You’re really here.”

You look at him, almost glaring as you let your distress burn through. He doesn’t even notice as he rubs your arm and his blue eyes dance over you. Laying next to him as he looms over you, his size is more obvious. He’s much bigger than you.

“Coffee?” He asks, “I got this new dark roast. All the way from Colombia. I haven’t even tried it. I’ve been waiting on you. Bet it’s much better than that InstaCafe.”

You blink at him. All your fears are coming true. It’s not that he’s snatched you, it that he’s been watching you. You might never know how long but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change this moment.

“And breakfast, if you’re hungry. I know you usually skip that but--”

“Please stop,” you croak, “please...”

“What? Honey, I’m just trying to show you all I can do for you. You don’t have to do all the work anymore. Staring at a screen is bad for your eyes. And your posture.”

“I... I didn’t mind...”

“Ah, that’s just you. You’re a hard worker. Resilient. You do what needs to be done. You don’t complain and you don’t make demands. Baby, you don’t have to. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you without you even asking.”

“I liked... being alone. I want to be alone,” your breath hitches between words as panic pulses in your chest.

“Do you want to be alone or do you not know what it’s like to have someone? Jellybean, I’m scared too. You’re the first girl I’ve had in my bed that made it past dawn. Hell, the first girl I didn’t... you know,” he gives a crooked grin.

Your lips part as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Sure, he didn’t do more than forcibly cuddle you but it doesn’t change what he did do. You shake your head and sputter as you search for words.

“You followed me.”

“I kept you safe,” he insists.

“You turned my water off. I...”

“That’s what the IV is for,” he reaches over to touch your other arm. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the tubing before. “I brought you tea. All you had to do was open up--”

“You threw something through my window... there was smoke...” your lashes flutter as the memories creep back in.

“I did what had to be done,” his grin falls away and his expression turns stony, “what you made me do.”

You stare at him, speechless.

“I haven’t given you any reason not to trust you. I mean, all you had to do was have a coffee with me. Or even open your door. Honey, I should be mad at you. You hung me out to dry but I can forgive you,” his face softens again, “how can I not?” His eyes go doey, “you’re so beautiful.”

You lay there, unmoving. You feel as if any suddenness might trigger him. He traces along your cheek and jaw and down your neck, “did you decide?”

You narrow your eyes and frown.

“A dress? Blue or pink?”

You don’t answer him. You just look at him as he continues to touch you. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as a chill rolls through you.

“You know what, neither. I get it. You want something more classy. Yeah, given the occasion, I think you’re right, baby face,” he leans over you and looks you in the eye, “we’ll have a look in the closet after breakfast.”

Before you can react, his lips are on yours. You let out a surprised squeak as he holds your chin in place. His mustache tickles you again and his tongue flits across your lips, wetting them just slightly before retracting. He pulls away and sighs.

“Wow.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the gray man #the quiet ones

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evienyx · 29 days

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Everyone complains about me hurting Fractures!Zuko too much, and then y'all turn around and vote for him to have the Chapter 18 Interlude. He's the POV Character! What do you think could possibly be within an interlude like that?

The only stuff we haven't seen from Zuko's POV is stuff from his past. You know, stuff like when his mom left, when the Agni Kai happened, when he was imprisoned.

It's an option for a reason, because I am fully willing and ready to write it, but I have to wonder if everyone voting for it is fully willing and ready to read it.

#fractures atla #book 2 interludes #you guys are so funny #“why do you do this to him? :(((”#BECAUSE APPARENTLY ITS WHAT YOU WANT #i only deliver what the people desire

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lokis-coconut28 · 13 days

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A Green & Gold Sundae

A/N : Hello! Thank you so much for your patience on this one! Life got wild. Thinking about a Part 2?

I appreciate the love and support you all gave on Sports Bra! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

Warnings: Food play, Smutttt, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

Summary: (Y/N x Loki) Insomnia leads to late night dessert with the God of Mischief. WC 2.3k

Masterlist Here

Toss, turn, repeat. Insomnia washed over you like a tidal wave dragging your mind into the sleepless abyss. You focused on the alarm clock atop the desk inquisitively - 12:18am, Sunday morning. With a discontented sigh you emerged out of bed in hopes of quelling your restless night.

Meandering into the kitchen, you glanced over at the common room. Loki was nestled comfortably in the corner chaise, studying a leather bound tome reservedly in the soft light. Thor clad with headset shouted an incoherent threat at the television to a “NoobMaster69”. You quietly opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for a midnight snack, unaware of the eyes that were lingering on your form.

You heard commotion, rolling your eyes as you witnessed Thor throwing his headset on the ground. He tromped your direction, countenance mellowing as he spotted you rummaging in the ice box.

“Y/N!” Thor beamed. “You cannot sleep? Up for playing a game with me?”

You shook your head, declining, while grabbing a can of whipped cream from the door. You took the cap off and sprayed it directly into your mouth.

“Nohhh fank youh.” You slurred, mouth full of froth.

Thor chortled and snagged the can from you, dispersing a mighty tower of cream into his mouth. You jovially bantered, laughing whilst requesting, “Another!”

“Of course!”

You leant back, Thor squirting more cream into your mouth. Loki's eyes widened, subcontiously clenching the book in his lap. His focus sharpened in surveillance of his brother in such close proximity to you. He felt- no he couldn’t. He certainly did not feel jealous.

“Loki? Want some?” You jocundly inquired from across the space, fracturing Loki from his envious thoughts.

“Only idiots and fools play these witless games, mortal.” Loki venomously spat at you. He slammed his book shut, abandoning it on the chair, strutting with haste out of range down the hall.

The joy you had exuded moments prior shriveled inside your heart like a dying flower. Loki had never spoken to you so harshly.

Thor noticed your discomfort at Loki's insult. He leaned down and whispered, “He is adopted,” into your ear. You stifled a half-chuckle and smacked his large bicep.

“Be nice!” You scolded lightheartedly, beginning to head toward your own room.

There was a soft knock on your door, barely audible. You glimpsed at the clock and grumbled. 3:30am. Tony. Stark was notorious for recruiting you to work in the early hours. While you were grateful to be part of this team, briefing documents were the last thing you felt like reading in your insomniatic state.

Moseying over to the sound, you swung the door open in exasperation, bracing yourself for Tony’s middle of the night assignment. You froze ice cold when you saw Loki before you instead.

“What brings you to my room, Laufeyson?”

Loki winced internally at the tone of your words. You never called him that.

“An apology. May I come in?” He said with an air of sincerity that riddled you with regret.

Silently stepping aside, you observed Loki as he cautiously entered your room. His hands dwelled behind his back, arms tight to his sides. He loomed with the utmost formal, stiff posture. Your interest was piqued at his bravery not only to come to your room, but to also offer an apology. Core tightening at the sudden realization you were alone with Loki in the middle of the night, you listened to him intently as he began to speak.

“Y/N… I owe you an apology for what I said tonight. How I spoke to you - it was harsh…” he shifted uncomfortably on his heels. “It’s just- it is not proper for royalty where I come from to do - well… fun things… Midgardian things.” Loki confessed in the tenebrosity of your bedroom. “And with Thor there… Well… He would tell The Warriors Three. I would never hear the end of it Y/N. Gossip spreads like wildfire in Asgard...”

You could tell Loki was being vulnerable, something that did not come first nature to him.

“...I find it difficult to let go of those customs. I am trying... So - if you would still have it… If the offer still stands…” he continued, revealing the can of whipped cream from behind his back with pleading eyes.

You raised your eyebrows at him with a playful grin. “Really?”

Apprehensively, he bowed his head in permission, handing over the canister.

“Come here.” You giggled, seizing the can. You crawled onto your bed, scooching to one side. You tapped the mattress beside you twice, beckoning the God of Mischief to come join you.

Following your lead, Loki tried to ignore the flutters in his stomach. Sitting next to you, he was painfully poised. Yet even in the late of night, he looked as collected and composed as he ever did, stature dripping with elegance.

“Lean against my leg.” You hushedly instructed.

Loki shimmied down low on the bed, resting his head carefully against your slightly bent knee. He looked straight up at you, seeking guidance. Allowing someone to have control of himself was new. Steadily, he rested his body perpendicular to yours.

“Tilt your head back.”

You cradled his scalp and gently tugged his hair, encouraging access to his mouth. All traces of awkwardness melted away as he arched slowly into your palm. You admired Loki’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the new angle exposing his alabastrine flesh. Your eyes lingered, watching the heartbeat quicken in his strong neck, deep veins coursing like a sapphire river. You shifted your left leg slightly, arousal starting to stir from forbidden thoughts of your colleague.

“Good.” You praised, loosening the grip on his obsidian curls. A small smirk formed on your lips. “Open up, please.”

His breath hitched as he willed the tension in his jaw to release, slightly parting his mouth. He wet his lips with his tongue, allowing access for your dessert. Gently, you pressed the nozzle downward, forcing sweet cream to squirt from the star-shaped tip. Loki flinched, startled from the sound of the pressure that was built up in the can. You smiled reassuringly, sliding your hand down to support the nape of his neck.

“It’s okay. Relax your body. It’s good right?” You soothed.

“Mmm-mmhmm. Another,” he hissed, mimicking your words to Thor earlier. A familiar burning swept over your stomach at his new inflection, laced with lust and possession.

Loki’s hands fidgeted near his groin, attempting to hide his arousal as you pressed down again. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, appreciating the feeling of you. The way you were cradling him felt so intimate. Your delicate hand holding him sent him to a state of tranquility he hadn’t felt in eternities…

You made a large swirl in his mouth. Not nearly enough to make him choke, but certainly more than filling it. Loki’s eyes snapped open and glared at you in artificial anger.

“I’m sorry… I had to do it.” You feigned your most innocent and apologetic look.

Loki deftly dipped his pointer finger through the peak of cream in his mouth before consuming the rest. He tilted his head toward you, observing your expression. You were at ease with him. Peaceful and serene… Not afraid.

Loki raised his finger to your mouth. He hoped this was not too forward of him, he hoped not to scare you away.

Loki’s outstretched arm revealed the erection straining against his pants. His dormant hand began clenching his thigh as you bewitchingly leaned forward and sucked his finger clean of the foam, eyeing his visible arousal. Setting the can down and mindlessly draping your free hand on his abdomen, you felt his diaphragm rise and fall under your fingertips. A blush crept across your face at his hungry eyes taking you in.

“Satisfied?” You questioned.

Loki leaned in close to you, gently sitting up in one fluid movement.

“It was quite good… However…” He tenderly rested his palm on your cheek, demanding eye contact. “I crave something sweeter.”

Loki ran seductive circles on your cheekbone, exalting the features of your profile, hesitating only for a moment's time. Forthwith, he captured your lips in a sultry embrace, comfortably fitting them between his own. You hummed in approval as you allowed him access to glide against your tongue. You both gave in to a sacred dance, tongues entwining in a passionate display of affection. Tasting each other, a heated frenzy between yourselves was created.

Loki pulled away searchingly. He studied your face for any trace of protest.

Coyly you lifted your lashes up at him, admiring the beauty in his irises. Being this close to him was enchanting.

“Yes?” You chuckled.

“I just - I want to be sure that was okay. I do not want to betray your trust, Y/N.” He whispered bashfully.

You pressed an affirming kiss on his lips, running your hand down his side. You spoke as you began to swap spots.

“Lay on your back, Prince.”

Loki leaned backward as you knelt between his spread thighs. Slight panic was evident on his face as your new positions did not allow for him to hide the bulge in his trousers.

And Gods. You were kneeling. His swollen cock throbbed at just the sight.

“Spray it for me now… Your Highness. Spray where you want me to taste.” You mewled sweetly, looking for approval as you slid his sweater up.

You drew a line with your finger on his exposed skin, bobbing your head once encouraging him to follow. Loki understood the instruction and sprayed a lawless line from his belly button to his sternum.

You hovered over his sculpted belly, stalking the cream line. You slid your tongue over the messy map he had drawn for you, licking it from the top of his navel up to his chest. You planted a kiss on his jawline. Out of your peripherals there was a flash of green resulting in the disappearance of Loki’s pullover.

“No cheating!” You playfully tugged his head back, massaging his scalp while he sprayed another line up his collarbone. You followed with a trail of kisses and sucks against his throat. He eased his eyes closed once more, letting his mouth drop open at your heated, sticky laps against the nerves in his neck.

“So- Sorry.. Y/N. No more cheating-”. You cut him off with a suction that was sure to leave a mark.

Cautiously, Loki drew a line down his happy trail. You locked eyes, licking the line up to his belly button whilst simultaneously pulling his bottoms down. He moaned in bliss as you placed a small peck above his pubic hair, continuing to tug the trousers down at a sinfully slow pace. His penis sprung free, dripping with pre-cum. You watched him pulsate as he gracefully drizzled a crown of whipped cream on his tip. His pupils dilated, dark in anticipation.

You thumbed Loki’s hip bone, drawing an invisible heart shape on his sensitive skin. His stomach flexed involuntarily at the contact. The corners of his mouth curved upward, noting the shape you had chosen.

“Command me, Loki.” You instructed him, sensually. “What do you want, Prince?”

“Suck, Pet.” He demanded, firm, yet lovingly. Obediently you leaned down and sucked the mix of whip and precum from his cock. Pleasure surged from his base to his tip as your cheeks hollowed.

“Another?” You sexily teased.

Loki let out a grunt of ecstasy and relief. He had been jealous of that word only hours ago, but now, how you said it to him, it was utterly intoxicating.

Tasting his silky knob, your saliva ran down Loki’s length. You pumped your hand, gliding up and down with a rhythm so divine not even magic could mimic the sensation. Loki looked down at you, working sweetly between his legs. You were absolutely delicious. His cock trembled, threatening release as your mouth and grip repetitively jerked his most private anatomy.

One hand stroking in pattern on his shaft, you allowed the other to gently fondle his testicles. He jolted forward into your mouth, relishing at the contact, feverishly humping upward.

“Y/N…” Loki panted. You tugged his scrotum, massaging each nut gently. Your eyes flicked up to the Prince’s hand clasping your duvet. You could tell he was dangerously close to the edge. Watching his chest rise and fall at a rapid pace, you hummed at the taste of his precum, taking him further to hit the back of your throat.

“Gods - Y/N…” he mewled . “Fuck! I’m - I’m going to cum Y/N…”

You winked at him as you rolled your tongue sweetly over the hole that was begging for relief. Relentlessly, you pumped and sucked Loki off, taking delight in his sugary taste. His body began to quiver, commencing his inevitable orgasm.

Loki’s hips lifted off the mattress, eyes squeezing shut tightly as his body bucked and vibrated. The intensity of pleasure washing over him as he expelled his seed into your mouth caused him to exhale a libertine moan. You supported his raised back with your hand, rubbing in encouragement as he let go, messily suctioning along with every shake and spurt of release. Tears of euphoria pooled in his eyes as he allowed you every last drop of his ejaculate. Once you were sure his release was complete, you swallowed Loki’s load. Sliding up next to him on the bed, you gently curled to his side, listening to his respiration.

“How does Midgardian dessert compare to Asgard’s?” You perked your eyebrow at him.

“Well, I have only had one Midgardian dessert.” He breathlessly purred against your ear. “And I think it may have caused me to develop a sweet-tooth.”

A long morning of dessert education was paved before you both, with Loki accepting your offer of a cherry on top, next. This was your favorite Sundae.

Thinking about a part 2 to this...

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carveredlunds · 1 month

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"He looked like a boy, masquerading as a gentleman": A meta on Amadeo, Venice, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and standing on the cusp of adulthood

TW: Discussions of SA, underage SA, human trafficking, slavery, and NSFW content

From a historical perspective, Armand's life as a teenage enslaved boy in Venice in the early 16th century gives us a chance to discuss the culture of male-male attraction in Venice during this period, specifically the contemporary understanding that older men could be attracted to young boys. This historical grounding can, in turn, offer insight into why Armand is trapped on the cusp of adulthood, how this manifests itself in his physicality, and how his story can be cautiously and sensitively used as a mirror for the real experiences of enslaved people in Venice during this period. I will be referring to him by his birth name (Arun), the name Marius gave him (Amadeo), and the name the Children of Darkness coven gave him (Armand), where appropriate.

In 1496 in Venice, illegal sexual relations between young boys and older men were so prevalent that 'special patrols [went] searching for boys who were patientes (sc. passive partners), monitoring schools for fencing, dance and song, where youths might be found in the evenings, and once again looking for companions of unequal age.'[1] This was roughly 27 years before Arun was purchased from a brothel by the vampire Marius de Romanus. Due to Armand's fractured memories of this period, it isn't clear when he was forcibly trafficked to Italy, but it is likely that he was bought by Marius in around 1523 at the age of 15 (assuming he was born in 1508, given that he says he's 514 in 2022).

As a physically attractive enslaved boy, Amadeo would have been understood as an object of desire ("object" in a literal sense, with no personhood of his own) to the older men around him. In his recent study Forbidden Desire in Early Modern Europe: Male–Male Sexual Relations, 1400–1750, historian Noel Malcolm discusses the contemporary evidence for the attraction of men towards adolescent boys. Malcolm explains that older men desiring teenage boys was a common and accepted part of Venetian culture, provided one did not act on those desires, and that attractive young men were often described similarly to women in surviving sources and contemporary literature.[2]

The important thing to note here is that teenagers were supposed to be desired before they started to show signs of maturity, when they could almost be considered sexless. As Malcolm writes, when 'a young man's looks became properly masculine (with facial hair, developed musculature, etc.), that is, fully differentiated from a feminine appearance, was precisely the time when he ceased to be seen as desirable by the great majority of older men.'[3] Due to poor nutrition, this might have occurred later for teenagers in the 16th century than it does today, but it was usually between the ages of 17 and 23.[4] Given that Amadeo was an enslaved child, and therefore probably not well-fed, he was likely late to develop. Putting aside the fact that in the books Armand is 17 when he's turned, Queen of the Damned offers some evidence for this:

'Did Daniel know that Armand had been a boy when all this had begun for him? Seventeen years old, and in those times that was young, very young. Seventeen-year-old boys in the twentieth century were virtual monsters; they had beards, hair on their chests, and yet they were children. Not then. Yet children worked as if they were men.'[5]

In light of this, it is worth mentioning that Armand has the slightest hint of facial hair. You can see this clearly in close-up shots, for instance these ones in my gifset. Here's one clear example:

With his long hair, his high cheekbones, and his thin frame, Amadeo would have fit perfectly into the feminine, feminised, youthful archetype that Malcolm describes. It would have been socially acceptable for older men to be attracted to him in Venice in the 16th century. According to Malcolm, 'When early modern writers described good-looking boys, the terms they used were drawn from a standard repertoire that existed primarily to describe female beauty: coral lips, pearly teeth, ivory skin, and so on.'[6]

Obviously, the last point doesn't apply to Amadeo. Instead, he would have been desired because he was exoticized by the Italian network of artists that Marius "donated" him to (that is to say, his Otherness would have been sexualised, as a young boy possibly from Bengal as @depressedraisin suggested here). This exoticization is apparent in how Amadeo is portrayed in The Adoration of the Shepherds — kneeling, enraptured, with a look of subservient wonder on his face. (For an incredible meta which delves more deeply into this aspect of Armand's history, I recommend reading "Armand, colonialism, and the weaponisation of anti-Blackness" by @shesnake.)

If we assume (besides his obviously lightened skin), that The Adoration is a fairly accurate portrayal of Amadeo at 20 years old, then the main difference between him at 20 and him at 27 is his slight facial hair. As discussed previously, the appearance of facial hair was a marker for young boys growing out of their desirability and into adulthood. Turned at 27, Armand is now stuck in this liminal space between boyhood and adulthood, and this is visibly apparent in his facial hair. His youth is mentioned in the show on a few occasions. When Louis first sees Armand in 2.01, he says that he 'looked like a boy, masquerading as a gentleman'. Madeline calls him 'young man' in a patronising tone in 2.06.

Interestingly, Armand's youth is mentioned more often than his race, though in the 18th-century flashback in 2.03, Nicolas asks Lestat, 'do you know this gypsy?' This is the only microaggression we've seen Armand face so far, but it offers a tiny glimpse into the kinds of comments that Armand will have faced for his entire life, both as a human and as a vampire. Obviously, Armand is not Romani, so the racial slur of "gypsy" does not apply to him (not that it applies in any context, but I mean it's literally inaccurate). However, this erasure of origins is common in contemporary historical references to people of colour. As historian Imtiaz Habib writes in Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500-1677: Imprints of the Invisible, Black people were often referenced in early modern sources using 'cryptic citations', referred to interchangeably as '"blackamore", "moor", "barberee", "barbaryen", "Ethiopian", and "Indian".'[7] Regardless of their country of origin, they were lumped together as one people.

In this way, Armand's lost origins could be seen as a representation for the surviving fragmentary evidence for people of colour from across the globe in English archival sources. He himself describes his memories in 2.04 as "fragments". This may be read as a metaphor for the sparse and fragmentary surviving archival evidence for enslaved people's experiences in the early 16th century, especially enslaved children. Where the evidence does survive, it is limited, and enslaved people's stories are usually recounted through the lenses of their white owners or observers, with their own voices lost to history.

There is another aspect of Armand's life which may be mirrored with the life of a real specific enslaved person. In Contested Subjecthood: Runaway Slaves in Early Modern Venice, historian E. Natalie Rothman recounts the story of Omar, an enslaved boy from Zara, living in 17th century Venice, who was given the name Pierantonio by his enslaver.[8] He had a long history of service since childhood, and had been baptised in 1648 when he was 10 years old, and, at the age of 32, was seeking permission to be married. Rothman writes that Omar's story:

'suggests ways in which enslavement as a child could actually facilitate effective forms of social, as well as spatial mobility, while curtailing others. His long years of service as a baptized slave were eventually rewarded by formal manumission [release from slavery], the acquisition of a trade, and insertion into a network of patronage that secured his ability to forge new kinship ties in Venice.'[9]

Likewise, it was Amadeo's long and loyal service to Marius, since childhood, which ultimately allowed him to become a vampire ('facilitate effective forms of social, as well as spatial mobility'). If Amadeo had not been Marius' property for as long as he was, if he had not had "skill", as he puts it, then Marius would not have shared the Dark Gift with him. It might be a slightly clumsy comparison, but vampirism could be seen as what Rothman describes — the reward of a trade and new kinship ties. However, though he had been rewarded, Amadeo was not yet freed from his service to Marius. He was now frozen in that place between boyhood and adulthood, having not quite lost what made him special to Marius, but not being the same boy he was.

Finally, this liminal state is manifested not only in his slight facial hair, his long hair, and his youthful features, but it is also realised in The Adoration. I made a gifset overlaying a quote from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde with scenes of Armand looking at his portrait, which is relevant in this discussion. Armand is almost Dorian Gray in reverse. He might have lived for five centuries, but he a part of his soul is still trapped in that portrait, in a position of unwilling subservience. The fate Dorian Gray laments has happened to Armand. He has grown older, and taken on the countless sins of his vampiric life, but his picture has remained the same — frozen in servitude, representing that young boy who was adored for his beauty.

Bibliography

1. Noel Malcolm, Forbidden Desire in Early Modern Europe: Male–Male Sexual Relations, 1400–1750 (University of Oxford, 2024) p. 44. 2. Ibid., pp. 179-81. 3. Ibid., p. 180. 4. Ibid., pp. 46-7. 5. Anne Rice, Queen of the Damned (Warner Books, 1996) p. 102. 6. Malcolm, Forbidden Desire, p. 179. 7. Imtiaz Habib, Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500-1677: Imprints of the Invisible (Taylor & Francis Group, 2007) p. 2. 8. E. Natalie Rothman, Contested Subjecthood: Runaway Slaves in Early Modern Venice, Quaderni storici, NUOVA SERIE, Vol. 47, No. 140 (2), Riscatto, scambio, fuga (AGOSTO 2012), pp. 425-6. 9. Ibid., pp. 426-7.

#iwtv #iwtv meta #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire meta #armand #the vampire armand #sophie speaks #sophie metas #sophie talks about iwtv

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thewulf · 1 year

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Unexpectedly || Aaron Hotchner

Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here

A/N: This was SO much fun to write. Took me a little bit to get used to the writing style but once I did it flowed so well. There is A LOT going on in this one (make sure to read the full request!). Timeline is a little wonky – Season 3ish but we’re pretending George Foyet already happened, and Haley has already passed. I also just made reader 28 years old – you can pick whatever age you want!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 10.1k + (Probably should've made this 2 parts)

TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.

Life was good, great even. For the first time in a long time, you felt free, like yourself again. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to convince the BAU that you’d be a good communications liaison while JJ was out on maternity leave. Speaking in front of people never bothered you, it came naturally to you. So, when your manager mentioned an opening in the BAU for your exact job all the way across the country it piqued your curiosity. It piqued your curiosity so much that you ended up applying, interviewing, and accepting the job within a few days. On Monday you were an FBI agent stationed in Los Angeles and by Friday you were meeting your new team.

Hoping to make a good impression on your first day you brought in bagels and coffee just praying they would like you. You met your ridiculously good-looking boss that Thursday night after his team got back from a difficult case, his words not yours, and he showed you around the office. He had given the team the weekend off to relax. Something that wasn’t terribly common around there you had picked up.

Laying out the bagels on conference room table you were so in your own head you hadn’t heard the door open and close

“Well, what do we have here?” A smooth male voice came from behind you breaking you right out of your thoughts.

Spinning around on your heel you took the man in. Tall, handsome and had a devilishly cute grin across his face. Was everyone that worked here hot as hell? If that were the case you might be in trouble, “Oh hi! I’m Y/N. Agent Y/L/N. I’m covering for JJ while she’s out.” You flashed him a nervous smile hoping he wouldn’t be able to read you as easily as you thought it was. See, you never worked with profilers before this. Sure, you’ve worked at the FBI for years, but profilers made you nervous. Profilers seemed to know more about you than even you knew about yourself. And profilers at the BAU? This team was the best of the best. Better than any team you’ve worked on, that’s for sure.

He shot you a ]smile that would’ve taken you out in a previous life, “SSA Derek Morgan. Are these for the team?”

You nodded feeling his eyes surveying you, profiling you, “They are, if you want them.”

Nodding his head slowly he took a step forward to grab one, “Are you trying to butter us up?”

Giving him a small laugh, you continued, “Depends, is it working?”

His smirk grew into a full-on smile now, “Yeah, you’ll fit right in newbie.” He pulled out a chair for you to pop a squat next to him, “They’ll be in soon. Just slow on Friday mornings.” He commented after seeing you look out for anybody behind him.

Sitting down next to him you were sure you looked like a nervous mess. You were confident in your role. You knew you were damn good at your job too. But who wouldn’t be nervous walking into a room of profilers for the first time? Especially ones that could read you like an open book so quickly, “Thanks,” You gave him a quick nod, “You must be good at your job.”

Derek set his coffee mug on the table turning towards you, “We are. But that’s beside the point. You’ll learn quickly.”

Before Derek could continue the door opened again revealing your stern looking boss who gave the two of you a nod before taking a seat at the table.

“Bagel?” You offered.

With a quick look up and a quick head shake he continued scanning whatever he was looking at. Looking over at Derek curiously he just gave you a tight-lipped smile shaking his head. Deciding to just drop it you waited patiently for whatever the hell was about to happen. Hotchner briefly went over your responsibilities when he walked you through the BAU, so you were flying blind.

Slowly the team started trickling in making sure to give quick intros and thank you’s for the bagels. You sat back and observed what was going on. A quick conversation around the weekend turned to a squeal as on overly pink dressed woman came bounding into the room with a very big smile.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She clapped her hands grabbing a bagel for herself, “Don’t worry honey I only read your file. I didn’t go digging. I’m Penelope but this fine human specimen calls me Penny.” She gave Derek’s arm a squeeze.

“Or baby girl.” Derek through her a wink. A few others walked in quickly introducing themselves to you. Each team member more kind than the next welcoming you with open arms.

At Penny’s comment you felt you blood run cold. Of course, the bureau would have somebody like her on the team. It was stupid to think that this team wouldn’t have one. They needed her. Sitting in a room full of profilers who were watching the exchange was a bit unnerving too. Every expression on your face being hyper analyzed to profile you.

Raising your eyebrows in curiosity you could only ask, “Digging? What for?”

She giggled taking a seat next to Derek on his other side, “Anything dear. I can find any secret if it’s been on the internet. Maybe some that haven’t been.” She laughed.

Your heart started racing knowing she could figure you out completely. It was easy enough to get your file cleared of your past life once you changed your last name, but this? This was a problem. You couldn’t bury police and court records. Those would live for forever.

Smiling and trying to play it off as cool as possible you nodded your head along, “Noted. That’s a nifty little skill you have their Penny.” Her face lit up as she agreed with you. It wasn’t often she got complimented for her skills, so she took it when it was given.

Cool. You had to play this cool. You couldn’t let your emotions expose you now. This scenario ran through your head a hundred times before you came. You knew they were going to ask about your past. It’s not like anything was in your file other than you being from the middle of nowhere Colorado. You made sure to have it scrubbed before you came.

Hotchner cleared his throat letting the team know he was ready to go, and that work was what was important, not you at the moment. Silently thanking the man, you turned your full attention to him.

“Now that you’ve met Penny and the team has met Y/N, let’s get started.” The man was all business as he nodded to Penny. She passed out the case file to each team member, including you. Visibly fighting back your reaction to the pictures in the file it dawned on you how fucked this job was going to be. Shit, what in the hell have you gotten your sorry self into?

“Dayton, Ohio” She spoke after taking a seat again, “Four young women have gone missing and found dead near Eastwood Lake just north of the city. A fifth just went missing last night.”

“They went missing from local bars?” Spencer asked as he set the file down.

Penny nodded, “Each one from a different spot but all within a 5-mile radius downtown.”

“Ligature marks around the arms indicate being chained up or bound for some extended period of time.” Spencer rattled off studying the pictures. Taking a shallow breath, you looked back at the pictures of the young women. You’ve seen some fucked up things working with the FBI, but this was next level. These women were clearly tortured before whoever finally decided to kill them. The bruises, cuts, blood, and broken bones were not a sight many people could handle. A sight that reminded you of your past.

Acutely aware you were around profilers you lifted your head up to listen to the conversation that was unfolding around the table. You watched how they bounced ideas off of each other so effortlessly. How each idea was taken into consideration. They worked so flawlessly as a team. It was something you had yet to come across in your time with the Bureau.

“Lacerations to the left cheek on all of them.” You vaguely heard from Rossi as they all continued to converse. You watched in awe as the team did their thing. No wonder they were so well regarded. This felt like magic. They knew each other so well.

“No racial preference either. Seems to be targeting age. 25- to 35-year-old women in the Dayton and Beavercreek area.” Spenser’s voice chimed in again.

“Cause of death, asphyxiation to all the women. Possibly getting off to the torture?” Emily spoke up.

“What time did they go missing?” You asked skimming the file unaware that they all stopped their chatter keying in on you, “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked noticing the silence.

Derek shook his head with a little smirk, “Hardly.”

You looked back down not enjoying the attention, “Okay.” You were sure your face was beet red.

“Okay.” Hotchner brought his team back on track, “Jet’s leaving in 20. Y/L/N stay back for a moment.”

“Sure.” You nodded waiting for the team to disperse. Swiveling your chair back and forth you felt overly nervous to talk to the man. You’d heard the rumors about him before you got the BAU, and they seemed scarily accurate for the man. A hard ass that expected a lot from his team but would have your back in an instant, no questions asked. But what everyone failed to tell you was just how handsome the damn man was on top of it all. He was striking to you, exactly your type with his chocolate eyes and dark hair. It made talking to him a very nerve-wracking experience.

Just don’t think about how attractive you find him, and you’d be just fine. Easy, right?

When Penny walked out you turned to him, “What was that about?” You asked your boss as he took a seat next to you.

He gave you a look you couldn’t figure out before continuing the conversation, “It’s not often that somebody comes in and contributes right away. Much less a communications liaison.” You knew he wasn’t criticizing you for not being a profiler as everybody had their roles, but it felt like you’d overstepped.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

He shook his head interrupting you, “No, we need every idea out there. That’s the difference between brining somebody home to their family or not.”

You scanned his face quickly, hoping you weren’t caught studying him. But he was the infamous Aaron Hotchner of course he would notice. You needed to get your stupid brain in check, but damn did he have a nice jawline. A nice everything really.

Giving him a small smile, you nodded, “Gotcha.” You wanted to call him Hotch, but it felt too soon, like you were trying to be a part of a team that you weren’t apart of just yet.

He gave you a curt nod before standing, “Grab your go bag and follow me.”

Following him out to the jet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. His suit tailored to his body in all the right places was sending you into overdrive. You should not be having these unsavory thoughts of your fucking boss that you’ve known for less than an hour of your life. But you had to give credit where credit was due. He was fine. Far too fine to be your boss. You were just thankful that he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head.

You quietly followed him onto the plane spotting Derek and Emily sitting on the couch. You opted to sit across from them running fast from your boss. He was fine as hell but boy was he intimidating.

“Y/N.” Emily nodded, “Welcome to the team glad to have you. Even if you’re like… twelve years old.” She sat back smirking, proud of herself for that one. You weren’t giving much up and this was her solution to that. Get under your skin. She knew nobody could resist.

Derek snorted quickly placing a hand over his mouth, “Hey! I’m 28.” You shot a glare at Derek already feeling far too comfortable around the man. But that was just Derek, open and welcoming. An easy-going great man.

“I told you she was over 25!” Emily pointed at Derek.

He shrugged, “I was off a little.”

You stared at them with a wide-open mouth, “I’m sitting right here.”

Derek turned towards you, flashing you that brilliant smile, “That’s a good thing Y/N. Younger than you look.” He threw you a wink.

“Shut up pig.” You crossed your arms over your chest blankly staring at him.

Emily laughed happily at that. She loved when women shot Derek down. So often they were throwing themselves at him that it just caught her so off guard.

“I’m going to close my eyes over there.” You nodded to the back of the plane where the curtains were drawn. Making it a bit darker than the rest of the plane.

Derek looked at you with a slight glare, not a fan that you were bowing out so quick. He wanted to get to know the new girl, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache.” You gave him a small smile, “Happens sometimes.” You tried to give him as little information as possible. As soon as you opened the can of worms you knew you were toast. You were walking a literal tightrope right now. One little slip up and the entire thing would come crashing down on you.

“Alright, new girl. Go rest up. We aren’t done talking about you though.” He raised a brow as if to challenge you. Emily nodded glancing up from the magazine she decided to pull out a few moments prior.

Nervously laughing you stood, thankful that these guys didn’t really know you just yet or they’d see right on through you like the profilers they were, “I’m not that interesting Derek.”

“Au contraire.” Rossi spoke up setting his book down. Spinning in the seat from not that far away. This caught Hotch’s attention. He looked up from the files he was studying to see what the commotion was about. Damn, they really were always listening, weren’t they? “The less you say the more we want to know.” Rossi finished spinning back towards Hotch. You watched as they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

You felt your heart rate pick up speed, why didn’t you think of a better cover? “I promise you both, I’m kind of boring.” Was all you could think to say. Just digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“So, you think.” He picked his book back up not sparing a glance back in your direction.

You found a seat that butted up against the airplane wall that let you close your eyes in peace. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding into your head. The stress of the situation raised your blood pressure which meant your head was more susceptible to the piercing migraines that were new to your life. What you didn’t see was your boss watching your every move in quick glances, not going unnoticed by his confidant Rossi.

Ever since the attack you got headaches and migraines all the time. When you were stressed, or your blood pressure started to increase the migraines hit almost instantly. The doctors told you it was due to the increased blood flow to that area of the brain that will likely never heal completely. This was something you just had to live with.

The migraines you could deal with. What really sucked was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that often followed a severe migraine. It got so bad on a case once you ended up fainting from the dizziness that clouded your eyesight. You just had to keep your stress under control. That’d be easy to do at the BAU right? Sure.

You opened your eyes when the plane started to descend into Dayton. A bit shocked you actually fell asleep. Often you struggled falling asleep on a plane or in a car. Instead of joining in on the conversation between teammates you opted to listen in, instead of contributing. The migraine was faint but still there. Maybe this wasn’t the best switch for you. Maybe coming to the BAU was a mistake.

The team exited the plane quickly getting into the escort vehicles taking them to the police station. Enamored with the entire process you zoned out as the team did their normal routine. This was all so novel to you. The jet, the escort, the prestige of it all. You came from a low budget office in the high budget city of LA. This was nothing short of fascinating.

The day you had to ran started just like any other one. Your boyfriend of a few years was off to work early in the morning. He was a detective at the same police department you worked at working as the communications lead for the precinct. You went to work, did your thing before coming back to the shared house. When you walked through the front door it was eerily quiet. Seeing your boyfriend’s truck in the driveway you knew he was home though.

“Honey?” You called out while setting your bag down careful not to make too much noise as you knew he didn’t like it.

“Kitchen.” Your heart dropped out of your chest hearing the tone of voice that came out of his mouth. It was his ‘you fucked up you’re going to pay voice’. Looking down at your hands you noticed that the trembling had already started.

You felt so weak. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, defend yourself. You tried to get away, but he found you. You tried to get the people you worked with to understand what you were going through but they didn’t see it, they didn’t get it. They didn’t want to see it. They wanted to protect him. Your very own coworkers, literal police officers, wouldn’t even help you. You were stuck with him. You knew you had to get out you just couldn’t figure it out. He was going to kill you if you didn’t.

Walking slowly, you peeked your head through the entryway spotting your boyfriend sitting down at the table. You knew you were in trouble for something you just hadn’t a clue what set him off this time, “How was work?” You spoke up knowing this was happening one way or another.

He stood walking over to the sink, staring right at you, “It was great until I got home and found a fucking dish in the sink.” He nearly growled, irritation coursing through his veins.

Fuck, did you really forget to put your glass away? What a dumbass mistake, “I’m sorry I…”

“What did I fucking tell you about the dishes Y/N? Or are you just too fucking stupid to understand what I’m saying?” Raising his voice he took a step towards you, toying with you. Your whole body was trembling now. He was so terribly scary when he wanted to be and right now, he wanted to scare the living daylights out of you.

“No. I’m sorry I just forgot.” You looked down knowing it wasn’t a good excuse. Nothing was a good excuse when he wanted to hurt you. You knew he loved it. The sick bastard that he was.

“You forgot?” He laughed. A deep belly laugh that sent a shiver rippling through your entity. Feeling your hair getting pulled from above you let out a small yelp as he forced you to look at him, “Like the dumb bitch you are.” You felt the pain before it registered in your head what had happened. He threw a punch to the side of your face dropping you to the ground almost instantly. Feeling blood trickle down your face you couldn’t bear looking up at him. That’d leave a nasty bruise.

He placed his boot on your abdomen pressing down a little too hard. “Pathetic. Can’t even stay standing? Hmm?” His boot connected with your rib cage. A nasty crack and the immediate searing pain started radiating immediately. A small whine emanated from your mouth as you tried to take a breath, but the pain almost felt too unbearable. He definitely cracked a few of your ribs.

“Going to remember to put your fucking dishes in the dishwasher next time?” He let out a low chuckle. You were in trouble. This was different. He normally stopped before it had gotten this bad. He knew he couldn’t hurt you to the point you couldn’t work so that usually meant your face, arms and legs were off limits. Yet, he went for it this time. He never dared to used such force that bones actually broke.

“Yeah.” You mumbled out finding it hard to even breathe at the moment. Not that he would take that as an excuse.

“What was that?” He grabbed you by the hair again pulling you to your feet. You were sure he took a chunk of hair out as he did so.

“Ow, fuck!” You cried feeling your vision start to blur from the force of the pull. The cuss word just slipped out, but you knew better than to use that ‘language’ in front of him as it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ at all.

A look crossed his face that you were sure you’d never seen before. One that looked like he wanted to kill you right then. To get rid of you, “That’s it. I’ve tried with you. You’re hopeless.”

He grabbed you by your shoulders grasping down hard making sure it would leave marks, “You are nothing Y/N. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why won’t you leave me?” That might have been you’re biggest mistake to date with him. A slight twitch of his nostril made you realize just how fucked you were.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me.” Another punch but right to the nose sent you backwards into the wall. Black dots started dancing in your vision as you tried to stay upright. Blood started flowing down your face coating your shirt in the bright crimson.

“Then leave me.” You tasted the metallic blood that was pouring down your face. You were begging him now. It was now or never for you. He was either going to kill you or leave you. You couldn’t keep doing this.

Forcing you up against the wall with his hand around your neck he leaned in hard, making it hard to breath, whispering into your ear, “I’m never leaving you Y/N.” If you had any energy left tears might have rolled down your face but there was nothing left. You could hardly breathe from the kick to the ribs. He was restricting your airflow and you were starting to get faint, “You’re mine for forever, my dear.” He let his hand go from around your neck holding you up by the chest now. You sucked in a big breath only to be met with the excruciating pain radiating from your ribcage.

“Please.” You managed to look at him. Hoping to see any form of humanity behind his eyes. A small sob erupted when you realized how dark he had become.

Shaking his head he grabbed your upper arm, “No.” He squeezed forcing another short whine to escape your mouth, “Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

You nodded your head trying to reserve talking for only when it was needed as it hurt, “I asked you a fucking question!” He yelled in your face continuing to clamp down on your arm. Your hand began to tingle from the lack of blood flow.

“Ye.. yes.” You mumbled out feeling yourself about to slip into unconsciousness.

“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”

Eyes widening a bit you couldn’t comprehend it. Wasn’t this the punishment? Before you could speak up you felt him pull you away from the wall. Completely at his mercy you didn’t even have the strength to stand anymore let alone try to argue with him. He was literally the only thing keeping you standing as you moved away from the wall.

He didn’t think it all the way through this time though. When he threw his last punch to your abdomen, he didn’t account for you not having any strength to stop yourself. So, when he punched you, you went flying backwards right into the corner of the kitchen island countertop. The back of your head connected with the stone instantly knocking you unconscious instantly.

Waking up in a puddle of your own drying blood was something you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy. The metallic stench of the drying liquid sent chills down your spine as you took in your surroundings. Blinking rapidly a few times you realized it was eerily quiet again as you regained consciousness. The house was dark. Too dark to see anything.

A shallow breath in brought in pain which caused you to wince opening up the raw head wound that had sealed itself shut. Rolling onto your stomach and holding yourself up with your palms you saw how bad it really was. Blood spattered the white cabinets while there was a literal pool of blood that came from your head. It was a miracle you were even alive.

It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire as you attempted to stand only to be met with jelly legs. A quite cry broke from your chest realizing just how bad this really was. He just left you for dead. He didn’t even call an ambulance. He was just gone.

He never took it that far in the past. He had an appearance to uphold at the police department and you showing up with any sort of visible bruises would shatter that illusion. It was usually just slaps across the face or shoves into furniture. Never had he actually made you bleed like this, on the brink of death.

The worst thing about all of this was that in the beginning of your relationship he was one of the best partners around. You loved him with your life. Then the stress and the cracks started to form. At first, he found other outlets like video games or going to the bar. Then it became you. The hitting only started a few months prior. But this, this was exceptional. This was a crime scene.

Thanking your lucky stars that you never took off your jacket, your phone was still in the pocket. With your very last ounce of strength, you dialed 911 before succumbing to the darkness again.

Instead of actually finding him, the cops said he ran away. That all they could do was put some feelers out. You used to think the world of these guys but then you realized he was their priority. They would protect their brother before you. You were just a woman. He was their brother.

After spending a week in the hospital due to fracturing your skull you were immediately transferred to another department about three hours away. That was all they offered, a measly transfer. With a head raging of migraines that never seemed to leave you decided you’d have to take matters into your own hands. Coming across a Bureau job in Los Angeles you jumped at the opportunity and was hired almost immediately. You opted to hide your past from your coworkers, changing your last name was the easiest way to do so Sure, the FBI knew about the incident but not your co-workers. The less it was brought up the less you had to think about it.

You were running from your past and you didn’t really give a damn. It made you realize just how fucked up the situation you were in really was. You weren’t anything to anybody at that police department. Just a woman who happened to be in a relationship to one of their police brothers.

Lucky for you, you loved your job at the Bureau. And you excelled at it quickly. Often picking up extra work for your coworkers. When the job at the BAU opened up you jumped as quick as you could. The BAU was coveted in the FBI. If you could make it there you could make it literally anywhere.

The case was tough on you. Just yesterday they found the fifth victim. It was only a matter of time until the sixth was taken. The killer was picking up speed at an alarming rate. Going from once a month down to every other day. You were doing a decent job keeping your stress down and your migraines somewhat at bay. But any of these women could be you on a given night. It hit you like a truck when the fifth woman was found in a park. She was wearing an outfit you would’ve worn to go out with friends. She was out living her life twelve hours prior and now she was just gone. How sick life was.

Time for the worst part of your job, telling the police and the public in a press conference. Even though it sucked it needed to get done. The more that young women knew that this was happening the more alert people would be. You gave the profile during the press conference that the team had come up with. White male, in his early 30’s, likely of shorter and heavier build with deeply rooted emotional trauma due to growing up without a mother or mother like figure. His mother probably left him when she was in her early 30’s thus the reason for the victim age range. So typical. How often you ran across cases like this. This guy was just a little sneakier. Not as dumb as your typical run of the mill criminal.

You sat in the conference room studying the white board with all the victims posted across with all the fine details of their short lives. The rest of the team stepped out for lunch, but you just weren’t hungry. Not after delivering that news to the Dayton Ohio area. Opting to just lose yourself in your thoughts instead.

You weren’t given much time to lose yourself before you heard a chair scrape the ground next to you. Looking up you were surprised to see your boss sitting down next to you with a snack in hand.

“No lunch?”

“No, not hungry.” You gave him a half smile trying to knock yourself out of this mini funk. You thought you were prepared. You read all the case files. You talked to all the experts. But damn, when you were middle of doing it, it was like nothing you could’ve expected.

Feeling your personal phone buzz, you looked down while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Opening your phone and clicking the little messages icon you frowned not recognizing the number that texted you. Your mouth immediately ran dry as adrenaline started pumping through your body. One text. One fucking text you never ever wanted to see.

‘I know where you are.’

Your heart rate sped right up which would lead to inevitable migraine. Fuck. There was a chance it wasn’t him but who else could it be? He loved to do this kind of shit to you back when you were together. Completely fucking with your mind.

“Everything okay?” You heard your boss faintly ask as you couldn’t rip your eyes away from your phone screen. Blinking rapidly, you had to remember where you were. You were working. You couldn’t worry about that right now. This was a later problem. Block it and move on. Besides, it was getting embarrassing how many fucking times the team had to ask if you were okay. You needed to knock it off and soon.

“Y/L/N.” You heard more sternly this time.

“Yes?” You locked the screen shoving it into your pocked. Out of sight out of mind. Right?

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head trying to play it off as cool as you possibly could, “Nothing Hotch.” You finally felt comfortable enough to call him that. I suppose when you hunt killers and study dead bodies you tend to bond faster than you would in any other job.

He gave you an exasperated look, “You do realize I profile people for a living.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “It’s nothing. They’re just so young.” You pointed your head towards the white board. You couldn’t let him know about your past. It was almost too fucking embarrassing to admit. You thought you were strong. Clearly not strong enough to leave him before he nearly killed you. And Aaron Hotchner just might be the strongest person you have ever met in your life.

In the brief time that you’d known him you’d learned all about his past from his coworkers. How he was stabbed, lost his ex-wife and was still here doing this damn thing as a single father. His strength was unparalleled to anything you had known. So, to admit your past to him was something you were far too scared to do. The worst thing would be to be seen as weak to Aaron Hotchner.

He nodded looking you over. Something he seemed to do far too often that made you feel things you really shouldn’t be feeling, “Is that all?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded refusing to look at him but instead at the victims. Hoping you were selling yourself well enough. He didn’t believe you. He was a profiler, a damn good one at that. He knew something was on that phone. Something you were refusing to tell him.

“It’s tough.” He admitted setting his cheese crackers down turning his body towards you, “This is not and will never be an easy job Agent Y/L/N. It’ll probably be some of the most gruesome work that you’ll be in the thick of. But let me tell you something. When you get to save one of those girls or any innocent victim it changes you. You know you saved them from something so horrific, something that no innocent human should go through. And that makes it all worth it. I can promise you that.”

A little shell shocked that he dropped that bomb on your lap you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “Thank you Hotch.” Looking up to him you continued, “Really, thank you. This is… brutal. I thought I knew what I was signing up for.”

“You can step away at any time. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but we really did hire you for a reason. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could do it.”

Those damn butterflies erupted in your stomach as he looked you over to make sure the message really sank in, “I can do it. I just have to adjust.”

A small smile formed on his face. You had to assume that was a rare sight for the team as it caught you off guard. He looked so damn handsome with a smile on his face. Something you wanted to see far more than you already had in the few days you’d been on the case with the team.

He stood grabbing his crackers, “Good. If you need anything. Really. Anything. Please, don’t be afraid to ask. Alright?”

You nodded rapidly, “Got it Hotch. Thank you.”

“Sure. I need to go talk to the chief. Try and grab some food?”

“Yeah, sure.” You threw him a smile as he walked out of the room. God, you were fucked if this was how we was going to treat you. Already so attracted to just his physical appearance and then he pulls that out? What’s not to love.

Deciding to listen to him you grabbed an apple and a snack from the vending machine to suffice his request. Sitting back down you opted to refresh your conference notes, getting prepped for your next press conference. You needed to get in contact with the latest victim’s family for Hotch too. Spending the rest of lunch, you decided to knock out your needed tasks to make him happy. To let him know that he did hire the right person. You could do this.

“How was your date with Hotch?” Derek asked as he and Spencer walked back into the conference room after they got back from lunch. Completely interrupting your silence that you were enjoying.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was only trying to work you up. You quickly learned that Derek was the type to tease you. His form of love.

“What are you on about?” You gave him a quizzical look. Hoping to come off as dumb as possible.

“Don’t play dumb.” He sat in the chair right across from you.

Cocking your head to the side you only looked at him curiously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Derek.”

This time Spencer spoke up, “It is uncommon that Hotch stayed back. But you are brand new. He could have just been checking in on her.”

“See,” You raised your eyebrows to let him know Spencer was the right one, “Dr. Reid is correct. He was just checking in on his new employee.”

Derek rolled his eyes this time, much more dramatically than you, “Sure, whatever you say Y/L/N.”

“Although,” Reid spoke up again. You snapped your head around in a panic. He was not supposed to say anything further to egg Derek on, “He has been watching you quite a lot. I noticed it when we were back at Quantico. Then when you were asleep on the jet. And really during this whole case…”

“Boy genius!” Derek laughed clapping him on the back. Spencer just looked back and forth between the two of you knowing he said something you didn’t like as you gave him a less than impressed look. Derek was grinning ear to ear, eating all this shit right on up.

You shook your head, “Because I’m new!”

“And oh, so pretty too.” Derek’s smile only grew wider, if possible, when you blushed a bright shade of tomato red. You just loved how your body exposed you of your emotions.

“Shut up. Does not. Drop it.” Grumbling, you turned away from both of them.

Spencer leaned back silently observing Derek’s picking on you. He didn’t really think much of it at first. But once he saw Hotch’s wondering eyes over and over again, he had to make a mental note of it. He didn’t act this was when he started or when Penny started. It only seemed to be reserved for you.

Spencer had a silent conversation with Rossi as he caught Hotch staring at you when you were sleeping on the plane. Rossi only smiling. Rossi knew something.

“Seems like you might have a little crush too.” Derek made a kissy face. This was a nightmare. Sure, you may have a small little crush, but he was your fucking boss. Hell would have to freeze over before anything could happen between the two of you.

“Do not.”

“Yeah see,” Derek leaned forward, “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Derek only smiled, “We’ll be watching.”

“Go for it.”

Your personal phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking much of it you pulled it out of your seeing that same number from earlier pop up again. Opening the message your heart might’ve stopped right then and there.

‘You can’t hide Y/N. I know where you are and I’m coming. Virginia? Really?’

You forgot the two of them were sitting there as you read the text over and over again. Burning the God forsaken image into your mind. How? How could he have found you. Why now? Why almost a year later? You wanted to block the number, but you knew he’d just find another way to get ahold of you. You also knew you needed to show the police and fast. But then that’d expose you completely. Open up everything.

“You good Y/N?” Derek asked ripping you right back into the present.

“Yeah, just thinking about those girls.” You lied hoping you were a good enough actor to get you out of this one.

He nodded, “it’s hard. To view them as both human and try and distance yourself. You’ll figure it out. We all did. It might be tomorrow. It might be in a few months. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks Derek.” You sighed fully accepting their fate. That you could move on from. But the horror of being stalked by your ex unfortunately loomed in the back of your mind.

Spencer smiled enjoying the interaction between new friends. He liked you. Derek seemed to like you. Hotch seemed to like like you. And Rossi was bound to adore you if Hotch did. Emily of course would hate you at first and then grow to love you. You were in.

The rest of the team worked tirelessly until the sun went down. Hotch ordered the team back to the hotel demanding a good night’s sleep. You knew it wouldn’t come. It hadn’t come in the almost week you’d been in the horror show.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever you knew you had to get out. Get away for a moment. Everything felt so suffocating. You guys couldn’t do it. Weren’t able to save the fifth girl. She showed up that morning and you knew that night he’d probably have another. Fuck, why was the world so cruel?

So, you might’ve done the dumbest damn thing that you’ve ever done and called an Uber to take you to the bar down the street. You knew you shouldn’t of. Or at least let somebody know where you were going but you just needed to get away. One or two drinks couldn’t have hurt.

That was until you were sipping on your third drink feeling a little too good. You were people watching enjoying the music that was pumping throughout. Eyes on the group of young women having a good time you didn’t see the man come sit next to you.

“Come here often?”

Turning to your right, the man sitting on the barstool next to you waited for your response. Giving him a quick once over you knew something was not right with him. Your gut was screaming at you to turn the other way.

“No.” You tried your best to ignore him, but he just kept talking. Not taking your silence as a no.

“That’s a shame. So pretty.” His slimy eyes trailed your body. A small shiver went down your spine. Trust your gut. If there was one thing you were taught, it’s to always trust your gut. You took a peek at the man. Young man who was short, fat and creeping on a young girl at night? The same night your unsub would be hunting his sixth victim? Could it be him? Could you be so lucky?

“I’m not interested.” You kept your eyes forward carful now. You had to figure out if it was him.

He really didn’t know how to take no for an answer, “Don’t be so harsh beautiful. It’ll only age you quicker.”

“Look I don’t need some guy with mommy issues telling me how I should live my life. Please just go away.” Moms made him mad. This had to be it.

He gave you a sickening smile, “I didn’t have a mommy. So how can I have mommy issues dear?”

This was your unsub. Had to be. Trust your gut, right? Of all the fucking people in the world to get approached by it was him? Jesus. It then hit you that you were his next victim, or so he thought. He targeted you to take down. Damn, what were the odds of that?

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“Oh, come on beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. It’s free and if you want me to leave after I will.” You needed to keep him talking. If he was talking to you that meant he wasn’t talking to another girl.

“Sure, let me just go freshen up really quick while you get the drinks.” You gave the creep a half smile deciding this would be the perfect time to call Hotch. The longer you took his attention the better chance that he wouldn’t escape. It had to be him. His profile down to his absent mother was nearly perfect.

Hands shaking you begrudgingly typed in Hotch’s number. He was going to absolutely lose it. But you were sure, this had to be the guy. He was short, stalky, and talked like the most misogynistic fuck you’d ever been around. It had to be him. You so wished you weren’t three long island iced teas down though your brain felt a little hazy. Hitting the call button, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he answered.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey.. hey boss.” You sucked in a breath knowing how awkward you sounded. Fuck, why was this so hard?

“Agent Y/L/N.” He sounded more alert now. You glanced at the time only to curse that it was already one in the morning. You’d been out far too late, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m at a bar and…”

“You’re what?” He sounded pissed raising his voice only a little. Oh well. This was more important.

You sighed and continued. Letting him know you were irritated that he interrupted you, “I’m at a bar. I needed to clear my head and I think the unsub might or might not be trying to take me home. If you know what I mean.” You wanted to giggle but you knew that’d set the overprotective man off. You weren’t feeling so hot.

You heard rustling in the background. He must be getting up, “The unsub? What? Stay there. Send me your location.” He was trying to process all this information as you so casually told him what was going on. How were you so calm? Were you fucking with him?

“Yeah, okay. I’m in the bathroom, I…”

“Stay there. Stay on the phone.” It sounded like a growl. He was pissed. More than pissed. You didn’t even know the man that well and you knew he was going to lay into you for this.

“Okay.” You felt the alcohol kick it into high gear now. At least, you’d hopped it was only alcohol that was making it hard to concentrate. But this didn’t feel like an alcohol buzz. This felt like your body slowly shutting down.

“Y/L/N!” He yelled on the phone. You must have spaced out. Fuck. Maybe he did put something in your drink. You weren’t usually so spacey.

“Yes, sorry?”

“I asked you how you know it’s him? The unsub?”

“Oh, uhm yeah.” The walls started spinning. Trying to regain your focus only to be met with a splitting migraine, “Shit.” You groaned. Your head felt far too heavy for this just to be alcohol.

“Y/N. What’s going on?” He sounded a bit panicked. You felt horrible for doing this to him but boy were you glad he was on the other end of this phone call right now.

You sat yourself down on a toilet locking the door in front of you hoping this would pass soon, “Hotch, I think he drugged me.” You were so good with your drink though. Never letting it out of your sight. How in the hell could he have slipped something?

You heard some muffled sounds from the other end of the line. It only sounded like him though, “I’m three minutes away. Are you in a safe spot?” His panic ridden voice almost sounded like it was going to break. You’d only known the man for a week now, but you’d grown somewhat close to him. You probably talked to him more than anybody on your team, being the communications liaison and all. Not only did you guys just click it felt so natural and normal to want to be around him. To push his buttons in the best way.

“Yeah, yeah,” Your head began slumping against the stall feeling heavier than it really was. Fucking fuck. What in the hell, “Locked in a bathroom stall.” You mumbled knowing you weren’t going to be terribly coherent here soon.

Moments felt like a lifetime. Then the bathroom door flew open. It didn’t feel right though. Didn’t feel like Hotch.

“Hotch?”

“Who in the hell is Hotch?” That voice from the bar rang out. Eyes wide you knew you didn’t have much time or quite frankly any strength to fight this guy off. Even if you were the same height.

“What are you doing in here? Get out!” You managed to spit out. The brain fog seemed to momentarily lift in the sheer panic of the situation you managed to find yourself in.

“I thought you ran off on me. It’s time to go.” You heard the door handle jiggle back and forth. Pulling your legs to your chest you sat all the way back on the toilet seat. Fucking hell. How was this your life?

“I’m not leaving with you.” You tried to sound confident, but it came out sounding weak and afraid. Just like you were. Terribly weak. Horrifically afraid.

“Oh honey. But you are.”

“She’s not.” You heard your bosses voice and the click of a loaded gun, “You have the right to remain silent…” Hotch went off on his spiel only for you to lose yourself to your thoughts again. Taking big, ragged breaths it hit you just how close to death you were yet again.

“Y/N, can you open the door?” It was him. Hotch. Thank God.

You weren’t too far gone just yet. Lifting your head from the stall door you managed to stand on your own. Slowly you unlocked the door. Hotch nearly kicked the door into you as he was eager to check you over. He needed to confirm that you were okay. He knew he had to reprimand you for this behavior, but it wasn’t the time. You looked petrified. Scared. He knew you’d never really be the same. How could somebody be once they know they were the target of literal murder? Hotch just didn’t know you’d been through this before though. That this wasn’t even the craziest thing that had happened to you this year.

After checking you over and not saying a damn word he ushered you to the ambulances that were lined up outside. You felt a disgusting wave of embarrassment knowing they were called for you. If there was one thing you had hated it was being the damn center of attention. Fucking hell. You had to talk about this in a press conference too. Your job just got a whole lot more interesting.

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I don’t need to go…”

“Not a word Agent.” He shut you down so quickly and harshly you shut right on up. The man of very few words was giving you even less than you were used to. You royally fucked this one up. Hopefully you had a job once you got back to Quantico.

Your hands trembled before you knocked on his office door. Hotch had asked you to hang back and meet him in his office after the jet had landed. The team gave you sorrowful looks as they exited. You knew you were in trouble. But damn, did they have to look like they were going to your funeral.

You heard a faint, “Come in.” Only to be met with a stoic Hotch sitting at his desk.

Quickly, you sat in the chair in front of him just waiting. Fuck. This almost felt worse than disappointing your ex. Hotch actually meant something to you.

“What were you thinking?” He asked far too calmly.

“I wasn’t sir, I…”

He stood up not daring to look down at you, “I told you all to go to bed. To get some sleep. And you go to the bar? What the hell were you thinking?” He undid his tie. Already frustrated

“But sir I..”

“I’m talking.” He raised his voice a notch. Enough for you to back down. Not daring to look up to him your heart began to race. How awful this all felt. It was one thing to upset you ex but to disappoint Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m sorry... I”

He raised his voice, a little too loudly now, “You disobeyed direct orders Agent! Do you know what that means? That means you could have died out there. Do you understand me?”

You shrunk within yourself brining yourself right back to that night. God how you wish your brain didn’t work like this but here you were. You weren’t in Hotch’s office at the BAU nope, you were in that kitchen. The night you almost died. The night your ex tried to kill you. You heard those chilling words.

“Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

Bringing your knees to your chest you couldn’t stop the stupid fat tears that raced down your face. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. But God damn did it hurt. Your ex said those same damned words right to your face.

“I’m so…” You tried to breath, but you couldn’t. You took short rapid breaths just trying to fucking breath. What in the hell was happening to you? It felt like your lungs were collapsing in on you.

Aarons eyes softened as he saw the tears begin to flow. He didn’t mean to make you cry. You were so different than the rest of the team. The rest of the would have brushed him off or rolled their eyes. But then you broke down. You looked panicked. Like you were in a different world.

“Y/L/N?” He asked hoping to bring you back to this planet. But you were gone.

He walked over to you crouching down, “Y/N.” He knew he couldn’t speak to loudly. That seemed to set you off the first time. He had to go about this differently. He began to reach out to touch you only to met with the panicked version of you he’s seen.

“Don’t touch me!” You jumped out of your chair somehow finding your breath after all of this. You couldn’t let him get near you. He’d hurt you. Just like your ex. Just like the guy at the fucking bar the other night.

“Y/L/N.” He backed off putting his hands above his head as you sat down against the wall, “You’re having a panic attack

“Just stop!” You covered your face with your hands bringing your knees close to your chest. It felt so hard to breath.

Aaron took a few steps closer careful not to overstep but when you saw him you about lost him. He wasn’t Hotch he was your ex coming to take you out for good this time.

“Please.” You put your hand up to stop him. He noticed your trembling hand that asked him to stop. This was a response he never had expected. You’d been so guarded he hadn’t a clue what this could be from. Aaron was used to trauma. That was his field. Trauma and more trauma. It saddened him to know that you’d been through something that could make you so blasé to the fact that you’d almost been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered the other night. Whatever it was he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a response to that same trauma.

“I’m sorry.” He stopped again sitting on the ground. He watched as you struggled to breathe. He wanted to wrap you in his arms so desperately it hurt. It was painful to watch you struggle. God, he wanted to be there for you. He shouldn’t have felt this way about a subordinate. About one his employees. About somebody so much younger than him. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Ever since you came in for that damned interview he was hooked.

He wasn’t mad at you more so the situation. He knew the odds of that happening were one in millions. But of course, you were that one in a million chance. He knew how gorgeous you were. It wasn’t a surprise per say but the thought of actually losing you after not even getting the chance to know you hurt him. He only scratched the surface of you, and he was enamored. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get to know the real you.

All you saw was him. Your stupid ex sitting there taunting you. Waiting for you to slip up. You just kept trying to fucking breath, but it wasn’t happening.

“Y/N.” He spoke again.

Shaking your head you couldn’t take it, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He frowned letting himself become small now, “It’s me. Aaron. Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes flicked up to him as you cowered against the wall. He was Aaron. Not your stupid fucking ex. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“It’s me. Can I please come closer?” He begged sitting there waiting. Waiting for the second you would let him.

You nodded continuing your short breathes. Aaron Hotchner. He was a friend. He was okay. God damn. You couldn’t believe you were reacting like this. It just happened. You didn’t even have a thought to stop it. Your mind took yourself back to that kitchen a year ago.

Slowly he scooted closer reaching out to you, “it’s okay. I promise. Try and take a deeper breath, okay? On the count of three?”

You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“One. Two. Three.”

Somehow, someway he was able to get you to calm down. With slow counts and patience, you eventually managed to get your breathing back to normal. Taking long slow breaths you couldn’t bear to look up to the man. How fucking embarrassing was all of this.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely spoke.

“Nothing to apologize for Y/N. Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” You still couldn’t look up. So ashamed.

Feeling his arm wrap around your back you closed your eyes letting him take you in. He pulled you into his chest wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tightly, he dropped one hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair trying to make you feel a bit better. He couldn’t imagine the agony you must be in. He wished he could just take it and throw it all away for you. He was in far too deep. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“It’s okay.” You replied softly letting your head fall against his chest. Whatever embarrassment you felt washed away as you breathed him in. He just felt like comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“But” you paused taking another breath. Whatever, he should know why you were as fucked as you really were. So, you told him everything. All the nitty gritty details. He listened. Squeezed you when you were slow to continue. To encourage you.

Once you finished, he paused taking everything in. He was shocked the world could be so cruel to someone as gentle as yourself. How could anybody be so awful. How could they not see how wonderful you really were?

“Thank you for telling me.” You nodded, “Sure. Just don’t think any less of me?”

“Never. Come on, let’s get you home.” He stood reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded letting him pull you up, “Thank you Hotch.”

“Jack’s gone for the night. Stay with me tonight in my guest room? I think you’ll sleep better.” He asked which came out more as of a demand.

You could only nod letting yourself fall into him, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Good.”

“Can you walk?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Aaron. I’m not inept.”

He chuckled softly, “That sounds nice.”

You turned towards him with a big cheesy grin feeling stupidly giddy all of the sudden, oh how this man got you so quickly, “Oh yeah?”

He nodded reaching for your hand, “Come on now.”

“Sounds good, Aaron.” You took his hand happily.

Part 2

@senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy

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imtryingbuck · 8 months

Text

Eighteen part two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 2,240

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

A/N pt 2: when I saw the duck tattoo I screamed, no joke I screamed! Make sure you have a look it’s so bloody cute!

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They spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning apologising, promising to make up for their mistakes. All three guys crying when she told them how much they had broken her heart, the guilt still there front row and centre but she promised them that it was all forgiven.

Steve and Sam had begged for forgiveness for not being there for her but she reassured them that all was forgiven, that it was time to move on.

Even though all three of them had hurt her and they hadn’t done anything to help her when she needed at least one of them the most, she had forgiven them. She missed them more than anything, they were the other part of her fractured soul.

She didn’t want to hold any grudges against them.

For a whole month Y/n caught up with her boys, caused mayhem just as they did a few years ago.

It was as if nothing had changed.

They didn’t understand what was happening when they showed up to Howard’s and Maria’s house to take Y/n out for the day when she opened the door where they could see two suitcases by her side.

“Bun? You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah only for two months, going to travel with Nat and Wanda. Isn’t that so exciting?” She smiles.

“Yeah, yeah how come you didn’t tell us?”

“I was a bit busy catching up with you guys…”

“Is it going to be just you three?”

“No Pietro, Clint and Vis are coming too”

“Who’s Clint and Vis?”

“Clint’s Natasha’s boyfriend and Vis is Wanda’s”

“Will you be coming back?” Steve asked.

“Yeah of course, then I’ll start my new job. I can’t wait”

“What job?”

“You know Mr Stan? Well he’s given me a job as his accountant”

“I’m so proud of you Bun”

“Thanks Duck-“

“Y/n come on love we’ve got to go” Maria interrupts as she checks over the plane ticket and double checking that Y/n had enough money.

“Okay momma, give me a hug then boys”

For the two next two months Bucky was out of his mind. He wouldn’t sit still for long periods at a time. He had gotten a taste of the happiness he had for years, went without for three years and then he got it back just for it to leave with Y/n once again.

“Buck she’ll be home in a few days”

“It’s been too long man”

“Are you going to tell her?” Sam asks.

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re madly, hopelessly in love with her?”

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah right and I’m Captain America” Steve snorted from the kitchen.

“I’m not in love with Bunny. And plus she’s got a boyfriend and I’m seeing…shit what’s her name?”

Sam burst out laughing, nearly sliding off the chair and Steve shook his head “Lily, Bucky her names Lily”

“Yeah I’m seeing Lily”

“How’s that going Buck?” Sam says as he calms down.

“Great, it’s going great”

“Bullshit she told Sarah that when you two fucked you kept calling her Y/n.”

“No he didn’t!” Steve gasped. Between me and you he already knew.

“Yeah and it’s pretty much the same with every girl he’s slept with, he calls them Y/n’s name” okay Steve hadn’t heard that before.

“Fuck off man, it’s not been with all of them” Bucky weakly tries to defend himself, again just between me and you what he just said was a big fat lie.

“L to the I to the A right down to the R, guess what that spells Buck… liar.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh and plus you have a bunny tattoo on your chest” It was true. On Bucky’s eighteenth birthday he went to the tattoo studio to get his first ever tattoo, he saw it in the book as he flipped through it halting his movements as he saw the cute bunny. It was a lot smaller but he asked the tattooist if he could have it bigger which the guy said yeah, Bucky had him also add the small love heart.

Over the year he got a few more added to his body but his bunny that sat just over his heart was his favourite of them all.

“Don’t mean I’m in love with her”

“Yes. Yes it does.”

“No. No it doesn’t.”

“Steve help me out here man” Sam begs.

“I’m not getting involved. But Bucky your in love with Y/n/n”

Groaning Bucky stands up “fuck you both I’m going out to see Lucy”

“Lily!”

“Yeah her, bye”

“I’m sorry Y/n” Pietro says wiping her tears.

“No it’s okay, I understand honestly”

“I just don’t want to hurt you baby”

“I know Pieface just don’t die please and please be safe”

Laughing sadly at the nickname she had given him he nods with a promise that he’ll be safe.

“I do love you Y/n/n”

“I love you too Pietro”

Giving one final long hug they separate from one another, she watches as he walks through the doors to the airport wiping her fallen tears she smiles and waves at him as he looks back at her, giggles fall from her lips as he pulls a funny face to her.

“Won’t you be able to see him in a few months?” Wanda asks softly.

Shaking her head Y/n shrugs “h-he broke up with me”

“You what?”

“Yeah, he said he doesn’t want to hold me back and wants me to live my life whilst he’s away”

Pietro had told her a few weeks before coming back home that he signed up for the Army and had been accepted. Though he did love her he didn’t want her staying at home worrying about him, he wanted her to experience life and who knows when he got back they could rekindle their relationship, though Pietro knew it was unlikely. He knew that Y/n loved him but he also knew that she was in love with Bucky, and for him there was no way he was going to get in the way of her happiness even if that wasn’t with him and to be truthful he was okay with it.

“Y/n/n I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, it’s fine honestly. Let’s go home I’m missing my bed.”

“I still can’t believe you’re not coming to college with us” Nat says as she pulls on her seatbelt yanking it a little to hard when it gets stuck.

“I know but it’s just not for me you know”

“It’s not going to be the same” Wanda says.

“I guess but you two can’t get another me to add in to your friendship group or I’ll cry”

“Definitely not happening, if another female tries to be our friend we’ll kick them” Nat says seriously.

“Don’t kick them Jesus that’s a bit harsh, just say “no you can’t be our friend because we already have the bestest one” but please don’t kick them”

“I’m kicking them”

Saying her goodbyes as she’s dropped off at home her eyes start to sting with the amount of tears she’s cried. They all promise that they’ll meet up as soon as they can.

As she tells her parents of her adventures and shows them all the photos she had taken, she hands them their gifts.

“You didn’t have to get us anything angel” Howard says loving the pyramid paperweight she had gotten him.

“Alright I’ll take them back”

“Touch it and I’ll bite you”

Gasping she looks at her mom “momma did you just hear what he said?”

“I did sweetie but I have to agree your not taking these back” admiring the snow globe she had gotten, already knowing exactly where it was going, adding it to the collection she had been collecting since she was twenty.

“Where’s Antonio?”

“I’ve told you time and time again not to call me that, hey baby sis” hugging his sister he checks the bag for his gift.

“It’s not in there Tone, it’s outside”

“What have you gotten me?”

“A car”

“Holy shit! Really? I knew there was a reason why I kept you around”

“Yep come on” Her, Tony, Howard and Maria make their way outside.

“Whe-what the hell is this Y/n?”

“A car” she laughs along with her parents as Tony picks up a toy car off the ground. “I brought you a car”

“You’re such a little shit!” He laughs along. “Oh nice new tat”

“Cheers”

“You got another one?” Maria asks wanting to see it.

“Yeah it’s a turtle his names Sid, isn’t he cute?”

“Sid?” Howard questions.

“Yeah, we went to a sea life centre and we got to meet Sid the turtle, so naturally I had to add him to the collection”

“Obviously” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Anyway I’m going to go to the boy’s apartment and give them their gifts see you later”

“Be careful!” Maria calls out.

Panting as she knocks on the door she nearly collapses into Sam’s arms when he opens the door.

“Jesus Y/n, Holy shit guys Y/n’s back!”

“I can taste blood in my mouth is-is that normal?” She asks.

“Are you alright?”

“No Samuel I’m not alright I’ve just walked up a trillion stairs just to get here! Why do you have to live so far up?”

“It’s easier when the elevator works” he grins.

“Hey Y/n/n” Steve says hugging her.

“Hi Stevie”

The three of them hear hurried footsteps coming towards them and when they look they see Bucky rushing down the hallway “shit, Bunny you’re back! I nearly fell in the shower trying to rush to get out” he pants pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“I-I-I’m sorry but…Ducky…”

“What’s up Bun?” He follows her eye line and he’s realised his mistake. In his rush he managed to pull on some shorts but no shirt.

Meaning that she can see the bunny tattoo.

And unbeknownst to either one, they don’t realise that Sam and Steve have their eyes trained on the tattoo she has on the top of her spine.

“That’s a bunny” she points of the obvious.

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Why?”

“For you”

“When did you get it done?”

“On my eighteenth birthday”

“And it’s for me?” Watching as he nods “can I?” He nods again to the unspoken part of her question, his skin tingles as she reaches out and runs her fingers over the delicate lines.

“Oh Duck it’s beautiful”

“Your hiding your own little secret aren’t you Y/n” Sam smiles.

“What are they talking about Bun?”

“I-um-I got this done on my eighteenth birthday” she says turning in his hold to show him her tattoo.

“Bun, it’s us. Can I?” It’s her turn to nod at his unspoken words she gasps lightly when his cold fingers trace the lines, he’s so mesmerised by the details and polka dots that he simply couldn’t stop touching it. “Bun it’s so beautiful”

“It was my first tattoo, obviously”

“So was mine”

“I actually feel really left out” Sam admits wrapping his arms around Steve’s “Stevie they don’t love us”

“That’s not true because-“ she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and shows them the tattoos she had gotten for them ‘♡ S.R ♡ ♡ S.W ♡’ with a love heart on the top of her forearms. Not batting an eye at the scars the two boys lean in as Bucky leans over her shoulder.

“Who’s who?” Sam grins “but Y/n you actually got our initials tattooed on you?”

“Your obviously SR idiot and yeah of course I did, these were my second tattoos”

“B-but we weren’t friends at the time” Steve says as he eyes the long jagged scars.

“Well you three were a massive parts of my life and the reason why I got the duck and bunny on my back was because Bucky was the first person to see the scars once they where heeled and he never once judged me so”

“Y/n…”

“Anyways you want your presents, I’m like Santa but less cool” she moves out of Bucky’s hold and makes her way over to her bag and started to pull out the gifts, laughing as Sam stands there with his eyes closed and hands out stretched. Steve shakes his head at the guy.

Bucky, well his eyes are trained on his Bunny.

He knew he was in love with her since he was fourteen and now he wonders if she feels the same.

“So how’s you and Peter doing?” Bucky asks as they wait for Steve and Sam to come back with the pizzas.

“Pietro, and he broke up with me”

“What? Why?”

“He joined the Army and he said he didn’t want me to be waiting around on him, that it wasn’t fair for him to do that to me so yeah”

“Bun I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, I actually understand why he did it you know? And there’s no hard feelings about it.”

When the boys got back laughter filled the apartment as the boys filled her in on what they had been up to during them two months she wasn’t with them and her telling them about her adventures.

It was way past midnight when Sam stretched and looked over at Y/n and Bucky curled up on the couch fast asleep.

“Steve, how long you think she’s been in love with him?” He whispered so he wouldn’t wake the pair up.

“I think just as long as he’s been with her”

And Steve was right.

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