#i can probably stand for two hours without passing out and throwing up if i have to. right.

[junewild]

paid $130 to have a package overnighted & they simply did not deliver it :)

[ptersparkers]

reckless (aaron hotchner)

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

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

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

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

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

***

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

You just wish you liked your job.

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

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

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

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

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

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“New flame?” Emily wonders. 

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?” 

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

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

“Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“You okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

But you don’t dwell on this too long. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s quiet. Too quiet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to catch Scott.”

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

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

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

Unbelievable. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s black after that. 

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

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

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

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

“This isn’t about me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get back to work.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott. 

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

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

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

“Where are we?” you ask. 

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

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember now?” he asks.

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

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

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

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

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

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

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

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

“No chance in hell.” 

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

He wakes up to a cold sweat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you never walk through the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nobody says anything. 

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

Aaron doesn’t like that answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s empty. 

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

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

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment. 

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

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

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

Then he hears a gunshot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

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

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

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

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

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

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

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

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

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you sleep well?” 

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

“Good, I’m glad.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him. 

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

You blink out of confusion.

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

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

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

“Absolutely,” you say immediately. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“It’s no problem,” you downplay. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” you croak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great,” Aaron says. 

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

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

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

You settle with two pillows. 

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

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

“Thank you,” Aaron says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” you ask quietly. 

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding. 

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

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

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

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

You can’t say no to Jack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly. 

They leave soon after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X 

[fanficgirl429]

After Work (Mike Schmidt smut)

Warnings: Sex (18+ only)

Pairing: Fem!reader x Mike Schmidt

——

It had been a long day at work and you couldn’t wait to go see your boyfriend. You wanted nothing more than to just lay on the couch and watch tv.

When you open the front door to his house, the tv is on and his younger sister, Abby, is laying on her stomach in front of it, drawing a picture.

“Hey Abs,” you say, walking over to her and she smiles at you.

You glance down at her drawing and see the three of you- you, Mike, and her.

“It looks good,” you tell her, before walking towards the kitchen.

Mike is currently standing at the stove, staring at the pot in front of him.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Hey babe,” you say.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm. It’s better now that you’re here,” he tells you as he turns around, pulling you into a tight hug. He gives you a quick kiss before he turns back around to the stove.

The next two hours pass quickly. The three of you enjoy spaghetti and meatballs and Abby tells you about her day at school. Mike is quiet, adding to the conversation here and there, but it’s mostly you and Abby talking.

After dinner, Abby gets ready for bed, while you take a quick shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and you stay in the shower longer than you typically would.

Mike has a pile of clean laundry sitting on the floor of his room and you grab one of his t-shirts and throw it on along with a pair of your shorts.

Walking back into the living room, you see Mike sprawled out on the couch and you walk over and gently lay on top of him. His arms wrap around you and the two of you lay quietly, watching the tv.

As the show continues, somehow you and Mike end up spooning on the couch. Your back is pressed against his stomach as he lazily makes small circles against your hip with his finger. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing it, but your body is screaming for more.

You reach your hand out and place it on top of his. His thumb stops moving and he waits to see what you are going to do.

Without saying anything, you slowly move his hand towards your stomach, coming to a stop just below your belly button. His pinky plays with the waistband of your shorts and he seemingly understands what you want him to do.

His hand dips below your waist and grazes over your underwear and down towards your core. You move your leg that is laying on top, allowing him better access. Pushing aside the material, he runs his finger along your core, feeling the wetness that has already formed.

You let out a soft moan as he begins to rub two fingers against your sensitive spot.

“Fuck,” you moan as his fingers work their magic.

Mike pushes one finger in, teasing you. He lets out a chuckle as you turn your head to glance back at him.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers as he slowly moves his finger in and out.

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, honestly.

He sucks in his breath at your response and pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“Get on your back,” he orders you.

You do as he says and lay on your back. Your body is begging to be touched and it takes everything in you to not pull him down to you.

Mike is still laying on his side, his dark eyes staring down at you. A bulge has formed in his sweatpants and you reach over and press your hands against it.

“Damn babe,” you mutter, surprised at how hard he already was.

He sucks in a breath as you gently squeeze him. Mike pushes his hips forward and you move your hand to the waistband and pull down the material, freeing his length.

Your eyes lock with his and your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length. His eyes close and he leans his head back as you continue to stroke him.

Your hand moves slowly and you can tell it’s driving him crazy. He lets out a soft moan and places his hand on top of his, stopping your hand from moving.

Within moments, he’s laying on top of you, his lips moving roughly against yours. The kiss is full of need and want. You can feel his erection pressing against your core as he moves his hips against yours.

“Mike…” you whine.

Mike reaches down and slides your shorts off and you kick them to the end of the couch.

Mike lines his length up with your core and pushes the material of your underwear aside before he pushes into you.

A loud moan escapes your lips and Mike's eyes go wide, glancing down the hallway.

“Quiet!” he whisper yells.

You nod as Mike begins to move his hips against yours. His hands grip the armrest of the couch as he thrusts against you. A slight creak from the couch happens every few seconds and you worry that it might break.

Each thrust is sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Faster.

Quicker.

That familiar knot forms in your stomach and you hold it in until the last possible moment.

Your walls clench around Mike and he places his hand on top of your mouth, quieting the moan that you just let out.

With two more thrusts, he releases into you, a few curse words leaving his mouth.

His body melts against yours as the two of you take a moment to catch your breath. He presses his forehead against yours and gives you a quick kiss.

“You know I think I might need to take another shower?” you say. “Do you want to join me?”

Mike lets out a smirk. “Are you really asking me if I want to join?”

[bubblegyu00]

riize as boyfriends !

riize x femidol!reader

a/n: currently in my rum pum pum pah talk saxy era 😋

———————・✦

• shotaro

boyfriend shotaro and idol shotaro are basically two different people. the members have mentioned that shotaro is a bit stern and serious during practice. but all of the frustration leaves his body once he sees his girlfriend stopping by after practice. goes from leader osaki shotaro to clingy baby taro in a millisecond.

is such a happy pill to you, but when you go without seeing him for more than 24 hours, then you suddenly become sad and depressed.

his favorite pass time is to talk about you, and he has proven that many..... many times. the members always get annoyed when the room is silent he and suddenly groans " man, i really miss my girlfriend ". but the poor boy can't help that you're always on his mind 😕

he definitely loves to annoy you, but only because he knows that you won't get angry at him. he thinks that you don't get angry at him because you basically let him do anything he wants ( which is true ), but it's really because even though taro likes to tease,, he never crosses the line.

if you would ever be at an awards show together, he wouldn't even try to hide your relationship — meaning the boy is quite literally gushing over how good you look. pokes you in the side and giggles quietly to himself as he watches you stiffen and try not to flinch.

" shotaro! what was that?! we were live! "

" it was so funny! "

———————・✦

• eunseok

boyfriend eunseok may seem nonchalant and tsundere ( yes i used that word, what're you gonna do about it 😛 ), he actually cares about you so much.

is on the verge of tears when he's cleaning a wound for you ( it's literally a paper cut ). will help you do everything for the rest of the day like you just got out of the ER or something.

makes you laugh all the time because he just wants to see you smile. his life goal is to protect you at all costs, and treat you like an absolute princess.

loves loves lovessss when you play with his hair or scratch his back. he can put up the tough guy act all he wants, but the minute you offer to rub or scratch his back he'll lay right on your lap and won't get up for another hour.

and even though he isn't as expressive, he gives you compliments like no other. he praises every little thing you do, and compliments you on every single piece of clothing you wear.

" you look so good baby "

" i'm literally wearing pajama pants and a tank top seok..? "

" i stand by my earlier statement "

( are my daddy issues showing yet? )

———————・✦

• sungchan

boyfriend sungchan is so cute i want to throw a rock at him. alright that made sense in my head.

he's so so so in love with you i don't think he could possibly put it in words. he probably wants to throw a rock at you too.

like you could literally glance at him for one millisecond, and that's a kiss in his book. he still gets giddy over the little things like holding hands and hugging and it's just so endearing 🙁

sometimes he forgets how handsome he is, and only remembers when he gets a scolding because he didn't know a girl was hitting on him.

no but seriously sometimes the fact that he is so insanely attractive leaves his brain. and the amount of girls that mindlessly flirt with him — even though his girlfriend is right there — double the amount when he's at the gym.

so he dosent leave for the gym until he gets sprayed with a bunch of your perfume, has a picture of you two in his phone case, a scrunchie on his wrist, and a pink bow around his arm. ( the last one is just cus... why wouldn't you try to tie a bow around sungchan's arm?? )

" maybe i should buy you a shirt with a picture of me on it "

" or i could just act like i'm gay when girls come up to me "

" oh my gosh yes! "

———————・✦

• wonbin

boyfriend wonbin is the beginning of the sassy man apocalypse. i say this from the heart wonbin 🤍

no but it's really a good thing because you needed someone who would overdress everywhere with you 😋. he still has never overdressed you ofc, he knows his limits 😼

most people thought you guys were just this big glamorous couple who slept glamorously, went on big glamorous dates, and just breathed in glamorous air.

this, however, is a big lie. most of the time you had dates at home, in bed, eating takeout, and watching horror movies.

although wonbin is very very very very hot in every way, most of the time you just saw him as a guy who was born to be a cutie patootie, but was forced to act like the mysterious hot guy.

wonbin only let's you see the soft side of him because he can really open up to you, and you understand him so well.

if wonbin is ever having a bad day and won't open up to anyone, the members call you immediately since they know that you'd be able to calm him down in five minutes tops.

" go away "

" binnie, baby it's me. you can open the door "

———————・✦

• seunghan

boyfriend seunghan most definitely was best friend seunghan before you "accidentally" made out one night

your love language is annoying each other and pissing one another off <3

you two are most definitely the couple everyone brings over to have a good time. the both of you together is quite literally is the best combo you could put together for having fun.

seunghan will annoy you, but make it up with the dozens of gifts he gives you for no reason. you showed him something online? he bought it. you thought something was cute at the mall? he's already whipping his credit card out.

he's not necessarily clingy, but will be touching you most of the time just to make sure you don't disappear. whenever you're at a party, or in public, he'll have an arm around your waist just for reassurance. he does in fact think you'll get kidnapped if you're not in his line of vision.

boyfriend seunghan most definitely calls you the most out of pocket nicknames just for fun. he thinks it's gold comedy.

" i'm home cucumber! "

or

" how was your day tissue? "

———————・✦

• sohee

boyfriend sohee makes me want to go into a cuteness aggression not gonna lie to you. the biggest simp out of the seven.

has you as his lockscreen and homescreen, has your photo card in his phone case, your birthday is his phone password, and his password for all of his accounts is the day he asked you out. ( he's a bit obsessed ngl )

sohee is usually very smiley, but he never ever smiles as wide as when he's with you. you're the only one who gets to see his fully pearly white smile

is still really shy around you, but it's so endearing. like if you say "i love you" he'll say it back but his neck, ears, and face will be a shade of red. or if you kiss him it'll still take him a minute to calm down because he has the reddest face ever right now.

like shotaro, sohee talks about you too much too. but honestly he only does it sometimes to make them mad or annoyed, but sometimes he really does just to talk about his perfect girlfriend.

will make sure you NEVER eat alone. he just thinks it's so sad that his girlfriend would eat alone when she could be eating with him.

" have you already eaten? "

" yes "

" aw, i wanted you to eat with me "

" oh, i haven't eaten yet, what do you want? "

" but you just- "

———————・✦

• anton

boyfriend anton makes me want to skip around my room and sing " look at the grass, the dirt! just like i dreamed they'd be! "

he gets really shy when you compliment him, but will compliment you on every single thing you say or do. like he'll literally say you look perfect when you're in sweatpants, and it makes you wanna do cartwheels and swoon over him.

he will so lose it every time you dress up at all. like he's literally drooling with goo goo eyes and he will NOT leave your side.

he feels so small next to you even though he's literally a whole shaq o'neal 2.0. he still can't believe how he pulled a bad bitch like you.

his love language is physical touch, but he is too shy to make the first move. for example, when you're sitting on the couch, about to watch a movie, he'll keep his hands to himself even though he wants to lay on your chest and have you play with his hair so badly.

people figure out your dating because when he's on live he'll bring you up every chance he gets. like every time he reads a comment, he somehow finds every single one to have something to do with you.

" anton what's your tmi? "

" um, my tmi for today is that i watched y/n's performance at mcountdown in person today and oh my god- "

❕

[misspygmypie]

Saturday Morning Dilemma - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x Piastri!reader Warning: None, just fluff! Probably trash writing lol also English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes! Summary: Lando asks you out but can you squeeze in a date during busy race weekend? Note: First time writing for F1 and I haven't written anything in literal years but I was bored at work and had this idea in mind :)

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

“Will you go out with me?... On a date” Lando breathed out, his nerves tingling with anticipation. 

You looked absolutely stunning today even though you were “only” wearing a McLaren hoodie. To Lando, you weren’t just another face around the circuit, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He couldn’t resist asking you out, especially after all the time you had spent together around the paddock.

As Oscar’s little sister you were a familiar presence, always there to support your brother. And over time you and Lando had established quite a friendship as well, becoming closer and closer the more time passed and he had fallen in love with you somewhere between annoying your brother by listening to loud music and giggling at a joke he cracked.

Now here you were standing in front of him on this early Saturday morning, you were clearly still a bit sleepy but excited nonetheless for the race weekend ahead and your slightly tired expression made you that much more endearing to Lando.

“Lando” your eyes widened, your heartbeat quickening, “yes, I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

A huge smile lit up both your faces but yours quickly faded as reality set in.

“What is it?” Lando asked, sensing your hesitation.

“I’m not sure when we would have time to go on a date,” you sighed regretfully, “I have to fly back home tomorrow right after the race. I have to be back at work on Monday, I’m sorry.”

He could see the sincerity in your eyes. You meant it and that just fueled his determination to find a solution for your little problem.

Lando took a deep breath. He fumbled trying to get his phone out of his pocket and you watched him tap around the screen for a moment before he looked back up at you with a hopeful expression.

“Are you free in like… an hour and a half?” he inquired, and even if you wanted to there was no way you would say no.

You nodded, unable to suppress a smile, the one he cherished so much and he grinned widely in return.

“Awesome,” he beamed, his excitement palpable, “meet me in my driver’s room!”

You didn’t even have a chance to agree before Lando dashed off, quickly swerving through the countless people crowding the area.

—-------

“Osc, you need to help me!”

Lando burst out, out of breath a bit as he came to a stop in front of his team mate interrupting his  discussion with one of the engineers but Lando’s problem was bigger than whatever this was about.

Without waiting for Oscar’s response Lando pulled him aside, dragging him to the corner of the room, with the Aussie offering an apologetic wave to his engineer as he was whisked away.

“What’s up? Are you ok?” Oscar asked, concern creasing his brow.

“I asked y/n on a date” the Brit admitted, his voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Oh my god, finally” Oscar exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “I didn’t think it was ever going to happen. You two have been making heart eyes at each other for months!”

Lando couldn’t help but feel relieved; he had been so worried about how Oscar - and admittedly one of his closest friends - would react to him pursuing and being interested in his baby sister. The fact that Oscar seemed to be so supportive calmed him down quite a bit, however, only momentarily as the predicament he was currently in still loomed over him.

“So, what do you need?” the Australian inquired, his tone expectant as he looked at his team mate with a mix of curiosity and readiness for whatever help his friend needed.

—-------

An hour and a half later you gently knocked on Lando’s driver’s room door, just as you two had agreed upon. You had spent the last hour just wandering around the circuit, a bundle of nerves and being excited at the same time about whatever Lando was planning. You had harbored a crush on the British racer for quite some time but doubted yourself. You didn’t think you were pretty enough to get his attention or even special enough - you were just average. An average girl with an ordinary job, mediocre looks and admittedly mundane hobbies.

Little did you realize that these qualities were exactly what made you so intriguing to Lando. He had met quite a few models and influencers, but their interactions were always shallow with beauty overshadowing their personalities. These girls were fixated on his fame and fortune. You, however, were different. A genuine soul amid a sea of fame-seeking twenty-somethings. You were simply you and he loved that about you. Your love for reading on gloomy days, your camera-shy demeanor, your pretty face and perfect body even though you weren’t as tall as supermodels.

“Hi” Lando beamed at you with his captivating, big smile and gesturing for you to enter. As he closed the door behind you your gaze fell on the small desk in his room and you couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“What is this?” You giggled, turning to Lando who now stood next to you; so close in fact, that your heart skipped a beat.

A second chair was pulled up to his desk, the space clearly not meant for two. On top was a small plastic cup with flowers and bits of greenery poking out. Next to it, his phone was propped up, showing a random Youtube loop of a burning candle.

“Oh, yes,” he exclaimed, quickly grabbing the solo cup and handing it to you with a smile, “these are for you.”

You chuckled again, inspecting your makeshift bouquet. “Did you randomly pick them around the paddock?” 

“I might have borrowed them from different motorhomes,” Lando confessed with a wink, “but don’t tell anyone. Come sit!”

"And what's with the phone?"

"Well, we can't have real candles," he explained, "I don't want to be the reason the fire department has to be called again..."

"That makes sense, " you nodded while taking a seat.

You had barely settled in when you heard a knock on the door. Your heart sank. You knew it was someone from his team trying to get him to prepare himself for the upcoming race or grab him to do an interview. All you wanted was to spend time with Lando, especially since you knew you couldn’t go on your date and it broke your heart. This was possibly your only chance before you had to go back home and while you were there Lando probably got interested in some other - way better looking - girl that he didn’t have to wait for. You mentally prepared yourself to smile at (and secretly absolutely hating!) whoever came in and took the boy away from you. How wrong you were!

In came Oscar, skillfully balancing two plastic plates in his hand, a cheap dish towel draped over and dangling from his arm. 

“Rigatoni Canzoneri for the lady” he announced with a grin, placing the dish in front of you before turning to Lando. “And here is your order of chicken pasta and steamed vegetables. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Lando shook his head appreciatively. “That would be all for now, thanks Osc.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you watched your brother bow slightly and shuffle out of the room giving you a small thumbs up and a little wink Lando didn’t see.

“What’s all this about?” you turned your attention back to the boy next to you, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

“Well,” he smirked ever so slightly, a hint of mischief in his expression, “since we don’t have time for a proper date this will have to do. I’m sorry if this is kinda lame” you saw his insecurity taking over, “I know it’s not much, with the plastic plates and food from catering and fake candle light and no real bouquet and maybe I should have waited for a better moment to ask you out…”

“Lando stop,” you interrupted him gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

He looked at you and all you saw in his eyes was evidence of insecurity even though he tried to hide it. You saw the shy boy from Bristol, not the renowned Formula 1 driver. The curly-haired young man who often doubted himself despite his successes.

“This is absolutely perfect,” you assured him and you sensed his tension ease as he exhaled softly and quietly.

Nodding gratefully Lando relaxed and soon the two of you found yourselves engrossed in conversation, much like you always were, while enjoying the food and cans of soda he pulled from a small mini fridge. Your warm smile and the affection shining in your eyes were telling him what he needed to hear and see - that your feelings for him matched his own for you.

[fluentmoviequoter]

No Bad Days When You're In Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: Tim has a bad day, but he forgets about it when he sees you get hurt.

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, mention of domestic violence, r gets hit by a vehicle, mention of hospital and broken bones, fluff and comfort!

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The worst part about having a bad day, in Tim’s opinion, is that he knows it’s affecting him, but there’s nothing to do about it. With each passing moment, he feels his attitude worsening, but each of those moments also keeps him from caring that he’s snapping at the people closest to him. Bad days are inevitable, they are a comfort of sorts to cops, but that doesn’t mean Tim enjoys them.

“Wait, what does that mean?” Nolan asks.

“You passed the rookie exam, figure it out,” Tim answers harshly.

“How are we supposed to get inside if the guy isn’t cooperating? We don’t have a warrant,” Nolan points out.

“Then focus on what we do have!”

“A report of a kidnapped child and no probable cause to get in! You’re not the only one having a bad day, Bradford.”

“Then don’t make it worse.”

“Whoa! What is going on?” Angela asks as she approaches Tim and Nolan.

“Get a little room,” Nyla commands.

Tim steps back from Nolan, his jaw tight and his shoulders drawn up. Between the bad morning he had and the stress of a kidnapping case, Tim is ready for the day to end. If he can go home, and see you, then maybe the residual tension and annoyance he’s carrying will disappear. He’ll just have to remind himself not to take anything out on you; he promised never to do that again. At this moment, though, he can’t see himself doing anything more than finding comfort in your presence.

Tim’s phone rings as Nyla relays the details of the missing person’s report the child’s father gave, but he silences it without looking at who is calling.

“Today is going to get worse so if either of you have a problem, get away from my case,” she tells Tim and Nolan.

“No problem,” Nolan says. “Sorry.”

She looks at Tim, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes as he agrees, “I’m good.”

“Good. Tim, you’re going around the back with Angela. Nolan, you’re contact; find a way to get this guy to the front door and we’ll take it from there.”

“Did you get a warrant?” Nolan inquires.

“No,” Angela answers. “You two don’t have probable cause?”

“I can make him scream,” Tim offers.

“Thanks, but we need a legal means of getting in there. If he has this little girl, she’s got-“ Angela checks her watch to say, “Less than half an hour until she needs insulin.”

Tim exhales and looks at the house. A curtain moves on the far side of the house, and he taps Angela’s arm before he points to it. She turns to watch, and Nyla and Nolan follow suit. With their eyes on the window, they don’t notice the front door opening.

The curtain falls back into place and Tim looks away. Standing in the open doorway, the owner of the house raises a gun toward Tim.

“Gun!” he warns.

He, Angela, Nyla, and Nolan dive to the side of the walkway for cover. The man empties the magazine into Tim’s shop.

“Can today get any worse?” Nolan mumbles.

“Now it will!” Nyla responds quickly. “Shut up, Nolan!”

“Cover me,” Tim tells Angela.

“No, Tim-“

She doesn’t finish her sentence before she raises her gun to cover him. Tim moves quickly through the yard as the man reloads his weapon. Just as the new magazine snaps into place, Tim pulls the gun from his hands and uses the force to throw the man to the ground. Nolan approaches quickly to place handcuffs on the suspect, but Tim simply sets the gun aside and walks into the house.

“Hello?” he calls. “LAPD! It’s safe to come out.”

He hears a scraping sound in a room down the hall and pulls his gun from the holster as he nears the door. The scraping slows before someone or something hits the door.

“Help!” a young girl cries.

“Hey,” Tim greets as he holsters his gun. “My name is Sergeant Bradford.”

“I’m Josie,” she replies.

“Okay, Josie, I’m going to help you. Listen, I’m going to tap the wall over here, and I want you to get as far from the door as you can before you tap back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tim extends his arm and taps his knuckles against the wall beside the door. A moment later, Josie knocks further down the wall. Tim stands and kicks the door twice before it snaps, and he muscles it open the rest of the way.

“Bradford!” Angela calls from the doorway. “Still having a bad day?”

Josie hugs Tim’s legs, and he knows that saving one girl isn’t enough to escape the day he’s having. No rest for the weary, right?

“There’s a situation downtown. Need all the backup they can get,” Angela adds. “Hi, Josie, I’m Detective Lopez. Your dad is waiting in my office to see you.”

Josie releases Tim and runs toward Angela. And just like that, Tim is back on patrol and navigating through the crowded and hectic streets of Los Angeles. When he reaches the address he was sent to, he sees a crowd of violent protestors. Sitting back in his seat, he takes a deep breath.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls it out. Whoever has been trying to contact him is relentless, as if he wasn’t juggling enough already.

“Nell?” Tim wonders aloud as he reads the contact name on the numerous missed calls.

He calls her back, and she answers nearly immediately. She begins talking the moment the line connects. She reads an address that Tim knows by heart, and he pulls the gear shift of his shop into reverse. As he steers into a j-turn and hits the sirens to drive the other way, he asks Nell why she’s saying his girlfriend’s address.

“We got a domestic call nearby, and the responding officers checked on the neighbors. She wasn’t home, but it was her house number that the caller gave,” Nell explains. “We don’t think she’s in danger, since she isn’t home-“

“She should be,” Tim interrupts. “She told me she’d be home all day today. Tell me more, Nell.”

“Yeah, of course. So, the caller said he was at her address, but said it was his house. Probably another neighbor wanting to be anonymous.”

“How long ago did the officers try to contact her?”

“About half an hour.”

Tim hangs up on Nell and dials your number. He’s close to your house, but if you answer he’ll probably yell at you in relief. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to see what his reaction would be because you don’t answer. As he turns onto your street, he hits the brakes. There’s a small crowd of people in the middle of the road, and he jumps out of the shop as he races toward them.

“Tim!” you yell.

He stops and turns, surprised to see you approaching from the other side. “The guy that was hitting his wife, his- his brother showed up and started knocking on doors. He was trying to find the person responsible for his brother going to jail.”

“Slow down,” Tim says softly, laying his hands on your shoulders.

“No, Tim, he was out here yelling and waving a gun around, but then he just disappeared. We started gathering in one of the yards, but we still don’t know where he is.”

Tim looks around and sees the crowd separating. He expected someone to be in the center of the crowd, but it’s just concerned neighbors. As he radios for backup, he keeps a hand on you. The bad day wasn’t supposed to extend to your neighborhood, yet Tim finds himself relaxing slightly just because you’re beside him.

“Wait in the shop,” he tells you.

“But I-“

“I need to know you’re safe. The passenger door is unlocked, and more cops will be here in less than two minutes. Just- just wait, okay?”

You nod and slowly pull yourself from his touch. Once you’re in his car, he yells into his radio to find out where his backup is.

“I’ve got a crowd of innocent people standing like a target with no idea where the shooter is!” he exclaims. “Get somebody here!”

“We’re trying,” Grey replies calmly. “I know where you are, but you need to step back from that, from her, and focus on your job.”

“I’ll focus on my job when I can do it again,” Tim snaps.

He directs the crowd of people to stand in a nearby front yard, then asks them to sit with their backs against a fence to protect themselves from the armed man looking for revenge.

You watch Tim stand with your neighbors, but he’s looking around with his hand on his gun. You’d been doing the same, but there was no sign of the man who pounded on your door and demanded to know if you had called the police. You hadn’t, but you knew exactly who did: the man who lived across from you and almost always got your address numbers mixed up.

“Bradford, backup’s a minute out,” someone says over the radio in Tim’s car.

From where you sit, you can see him as he replies, and he looks stressed. The moment everything is under control, you’ll hug him, you decide.

You don’t get much further than that in your planning before something catches your eye. Directly to your right, a construction front loader is barreling toward you. There’s no time to get out of the shop and out of its path, so you brace yourself for the impact. Just before the door beside you folds in against your side, you see the face of the man Tim is looking for. Interestingly, you don’t feel any pain, just a deep hope that this doesn’t make Tim’s day worse or get him hurt.

Tim watches the vehicle crash into his car. With the bullet holes littering the back, he should’ve realized that leaving you alone was a bad idea. Either the day is just historically bad or that shop is cursed. He pulls his gun as he runs toward you. Finally, his backup arrives, and he yells for them to get the guy in the front loader.

“I need an R/A! Now!” he yells into his radio.

Tim reaches his shop and pulls the driver’s side door open. Your eyes are closed, and you’re wedged uncomfortably between the bent door, your broken seat, and the raised console. He pulls loose pieces of his wrecked shop away from you, his bad day and worse attitude completely forgotten. When he reaches over your lap, you lay your hand on his.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you blink your eyes open.

“Are you?” Tim inquires quickly.

He’s sitting backward in his seat, his eyes locked on yours. He flips his hand to hold yours and sighs when you squeeze it kindly.

“I’m okay. Sore, uncomfortable, but fine. Are you?” Tim shakes his head, and you add, “You seemed stressed. Bad day?”

“That’s not important.”

“It is,” you argue. “It is. And as soon as I’m not trapped here, I’ll hug you to prove it.”

“You’re going to the hospital first.”

You want to argue, say that you would prefer to just go home, but Tim’s expression makes you stop. The stressed look, the yelling, it’s all gone as he focuses on you. As long as he doesn’t start apologizing, you will do whatever he asks.

“Does that mean you won’t hug me?” you ask.

“Not until I know you’re okay,” Tim replies.

He looks out the window beside you and squeezes your hand. The front loader has been towed away from the shop, and your chest is rising a touch higher as if pressure has been taken off of you. Tim hopes that you’re right, that you will just be stiff and sore for a while and nothing worse. His bad day seems like nothing now; seeing you hurt is worse than any hectic day the LAPD can throw at him.

A firefighter moves to your door and prepares to remove the door forcefully. The EMT beside him looks at your eyes and head, then welcomes you to pass out if you want, rather than fight any pain or discomfort. Tim nods reassuringly, his hand still in yours, and you close your eyes.

You’re happy to spend the night at Tim’s rather than the hospital. The shared comfort is good for both of you after the day you had. While you recline in Tim’s bed, mindful of the deep bruising on your right side, Tim lays on your left. His head is on your shoulder as he runs his fingers along your forearm. There’s a movie playing on the TV screen, but the only thing you can think of is the man beside you.

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you,” Tim replies. He sits up to look at you and adds, “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“That wasn’t your fault. You were trying to keep me safe. You always keep me safe.”

Tim shakes his head as his eyes drop to a scrape across your cheek.

“You keep me safe from more than you know,” you whisper. “Do you feel better now? Bad day over?”

“It hasn’t mattered since I saw that guy hit you,” Tim admits.

“I make your bad days go away?” you ask with a smile.

“You do. Not watching you get hurt. Nothing else mattered in that moment.”

You nod and thank Tim again. He returns to his place beside you, and you take turns holding each other throughout the night. You both need comfort, and this is the best place to get it. When Kojo joins you after the movie ends, you know that today wasn’t all bad, and Tim realizes that no day can be bad when you’re in his life. Not when this is what you both come home to.

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 2

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You see Jake again, much sooner than expected.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Mentions of medical stuff, probable naval inaccuracies, mentions of losing a spouse, etc. Please see disclaimer below also.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Monday morning greets you like a slap in the face.

Between the jet lag, late night with Jake, and a full day of adjusting to being back home with your son, you were exhausted when your alarm went off.

You wished you had toothpicks to keep your eyes open that morning in orientation… the exact same orientation that you’ve done with every move.

You nearly cried when you were dismissed for lunch.

A familiar voice takes you back to the past as you make your way back to your office for lunch.

It was one of the things you were both excited about and dreading about being back here.

“Ma’am? Lieutenant Commander Kerner?”

You smile as you turn. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, long time no see.”

“Too long,” he agrees as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “God, I can’t believe how big Drew’s getting when I saw him last week.”

“You’re telling me. I swear he grew a foot in the six months I was gone,” you reply, tilting your head as you approach your office as an invite.

“Deployments suck,” he agrees. “He’s looking more and more like Andy every day,” Bradley says softly, following you in.

Some people don’t like talking about their deceased spouses, but you loved hearing it; loved that people remembered him.

“Stubborn like him too,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes.

Bradley laughs, “I think we both know he gets that from you.”

You answer by throwing a crouton from your salad at him.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Bradley has you laughing through your lunch hour, reminiscing about the trouble you had gotten up to together in your younger years.

You were 2 years older than Andy, who was 2 years older than Bradley and the two of them had grown up together. Ron, your father-in-law, had flown with Bradley’s dad and became one of his honorary uncles after Goose had passed away.

Drew loved Uncle Roo, who often took him overnight for ‘boys nights’; Drew refused to tell you what the two of them got up to, just giggling when you asked.

“Where were you Saturday night? I called but it went straight to voicemail,” you ask.

“I-uh, had a date,” he says, flushing and scratching the back of his neck. He always does that when he’s not telling you something.

“A date? Is that what you call getting your dick wet now?”

“Shut up,” he laughs, avoiding the question; which just confirms it. He sighs before he looks at your wedding ring, still on your left hand. “You know he wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

“I-“ you start but are interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

“Dr. Kerner? Your first patient is all set. Just a routine physical,” your nurse, Sophie, says by the door. You smile at the way her eyes look Bradley up and down.

“Thanks, Soph, I’ll be right there,” you reply, happy to avoid the conversation.

“I’ll talk to you later, Kernsie,” Bradley calls you by Andy’s nickname before rising to his feet as he follows Sophie out. You can hear him introducing himself to her as they walk down the hall.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You knock and enter the exam room as you grab the chart from the basket outside the door without looking at the name on the front.

“Hi, I-Jake?” Your stomach flips as you see your one-night stand sitting in front of you.

“Reese? What are you doing here?” Jake says, rising to his feet.

How can he look so good in a hospital gown?

“I-,” you stutter, before shaking your head. You’re a professional, act like one. “I’m Dr. Kerner.”

“You’re a doctor?” He repeats, still processing. “You just told me you worked in healthcare.”

“Yes, it is the truth. And said you worked in aviation…,” you trail off, looking at his chart finally. “You’re a fighter pilot.”

Just like Andy was. You definitely have a type.

“I’m sorry,” you continue, shutting his chart. “This is a conflict of interest. I’ll have you reschedule with Dr. Thompson.”

“No!” He puts his hand over your arm. “Can you see me today? Please? Dr. Thompson is booked out and if I don’t get this physical done today, I’m grounded.”

“It’s not my fault you waited until the last minute,” you lecture, quirking a brow.

“I know,” he sighs, removing his hand from your arm. “It’s mine. I just hate anything medical-just never mind. I’ll reschedule.”

His pitiful tone tugs at your heartstrings.

“Just get on the table. If anyone asks, this is the first time we’ve met,” you sigh, gesturing with your hand for him to sit on the exam table.

“Thanks,” he replies, flashing you a dimpled grin that surely gets him into and out of trouble.

You can’t help sneaking a peek at his cute Calvin Klein-clad butt as he turns to do ask you asked.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

He flinches when you snap the nitrile gloves you put on moments later.

���Lay back for me,” you instruct as you pull the footrest out as he reclines. You can feel his heart rate increase when you feel the lymph nodes in his neck down to his armpit.

Yours begins to race as your hands journey lower to palpate the sharp cut of his abdomen.

Good God he’s ripped.

“Next, I’m going to put my hand by your groin to feel the lymph nodes there, is that okay?” Your hands pause on his lower abdomen as you wait for him to consent.

“Yes,” he replies, inhaling sharply when your fingers lift the waistband and dip inside to feel along the line connecting his groin to his thigh. It’s not uncommon for male patients to get an erection during an exam, but it’s a first for you to like the way his cock twitches.

Your face heats as you remember how Andy would let you practice exams on him while in med school. Those “exams” always ended in sex.

Guess you might have a medical role-play kink.

“All good so far,” you murmur as you guide him into a seated position.

“Take a deep breath in,” you request from Jake’s side as you listen to his lungs before moving your stethoscope lower. “Good, again.”

Both your face and between your legs heat when you see the scratch marks down his back that your nails left 2 nights prior.

“Looks like you got mauled by a cougar,” you tease as you run your fingers over the red lines, delighting in his sharp inhale and the goosebumps that follow.

“Maybe I did,” he turns toward you, eyes meeting yours before flicking to your lips.

“Maybe I should report you for allowing someone to damage government property,” you smirk, coming around to stand in front of him.

“You’re the one-wait, you’re fucking married?” He exclaims moments later, zeroing in on your ring when you place your stethoscope on his chest to listen to his heart.

“Shhhh!” You shush him, looking at the door, waiting for someone to burst through.

“What the fuck, Reese?!” He hisses. The disgust in his tone makes you want to curl in on yourself, even though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“Jake, I-“ you start to answer, but he cuts you off.

“You’re wearing a wedding ring and you weren’t on Saturday. Why would ask me to have a drink with you? Jesus, Reese. I don’t fuck married women,” he seethes, looking away. “Who’s your husband? Do I have to worry about getting reprimanded or my ass kicked?”

“Andrew Kerner,” you reply, “and no. He passed away 8 years ago.”

His head whips toward you.

“Drifter was your husband? Slider’s son?” He asks, putting all of the pieces together.

You nod as you begin to check his reflexes.

“Shit,” he pales as he realizes how he just treated you. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, “You didn’t know.”

His reaction hurt, but it was fair. You were wearing a wedding ring.

“I don’t wear it to the beach because of the sand and sunscreen, otherwise I usually wear it on my right hand,” you explain, “but when I’m at work or somewhere I don’t want to appear single, I keep it on my left. I’m…just not ready to be done wearing it yet.”

“I’ve heard he was a good man. He sure was one helluva pilot,” Jake says before putting his hand over yours that’s on his knee. You suppress the shiver at the feel of his callouses. “I really am sorry, Reese.”

“You’re forgiven,” you reply, giving him a small smile.

“You know Rooster then,” he thinks aloud, then his eyes widen as his eyes flock to your stomach, your c-section scar. “You’re Drew’s mom.”

The mama bear in you bristles. “How do you know Drew?”

“I transferred here…the same unit as Rooster about 5 months ago,” he explains quickly, picking up you don’t mess around when it comes to your son. “He took Drew to a Padres game for one of their boys days a few weeks ago and invited me too.”

You relax at his response. You trust that Roo wouldn’t take Drew around just anyone

“He’s a great kid, Reese,” he continues. “Takes after you; cute, funny, sarcastic, smart.”

“Thanks. He is pretty great,” you agree. “Now stand up and bend over for me.”

He blushes as he chuckles before he does as asks. “I think that’s the first time a woman’s said that to me.”

You roll your eyes but a laugh escapes as you evaluate his spine. “Alright,” you tap him to stand again, “I’m sure you’ve heard this one before: drop your drawers.”

He flushes further and he laughs as he does as he lets his underwear drop. “Yes ma’am.”

You grab your wheeled stool to sit while trying to ignore the rush of arousal his words send between your thighs as your hand sneaks under the gown.

“I’m going to touch your inner thigh and then your testicles to feel for a hernia with your permission,” you obtain consent again and proceed when he nods.

He looks away, pink still staining his cheeks as your hand moves up his thigh. He hardens instantly, tenting the fabric directly in front of your face.

“Turn your head and cough for me? Good,” you say, looking at the floor. It’s both awkward and arousing; you can’t imagine how he feels. “One more time. Good.”

You rise and nod for him to pull his underwear back on, turning your back on him to remove your gloves and wash your hands to give him an illusion of privacy.

“I’ll step out so you can get dressed,” you say as you dry your hands.

“Just like yesterday morning,” he says, smirking to let you know he’s teasing when your eyes meet his.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“You’re all set then, lieutenant,” you tell him as you finish charting, “do you have any other questions?”

“Just one,” he replies. “Why’d you leave without waking me up? Or leaving your number? I really like you. I thought we had fun.”

You’re surprise His hurt tone dents the wall you constructed around your heart.

“I did have fun,” you answer truthfully and sigh before you continue. “I don’t get a lot of free time, Jake. That’s why I was at the beach Saturday. I just got back from a 6-month deployment early and Drew was at still Disney with Grandma and Grandpa. I found out yesterday morning they were on their way back and I wanted to beat them home,” you explain. “I saw your dog tags by the door when I was looking for something to leave you a note with and figured I’d see you around since I’m now stationed here. I didn’t expect it quite so soon though.”

“Can I take you out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better,” he asks, hopeful.

His face falls a second later at your hesitation.

“I’m a 38 year old, widowed, single mom. You’re what…30?” He nods once and you continue, “I’m not really looking for a relationship right now; I barely have any time for myself, much less a relationship. You deserve someone young and fun that can do things at the drop of a hat.”

He nods, mulling over your words before he grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notepad sitting on the desk.

He rises and hands you the note.

“There’s my number if you change your mind or just want another night of fun,” he says as he walks toward the door. “I’ll gladly take anything you’re willing to give me.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Disclaimer: this is just fiction and fun. A medical provider should NEVER make inappropriate comments/touches, etc. They SHOULD get consent before touching you. Lmk if you have any questions/concerns with this.

A/N: Sorry about the wait, for those of you who don’t follow me closely, I’ve been at the beach on a girls trip for the past 5 days.

So…what’d you think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist (sorry if I forget anyone, I won’t be mad if you remind me).

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[hopeluna]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐵𝑂𝑌 𝐼𝑆 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐸 (𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆'𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏)

✘ Part of the writing event by @carolmunson ! You can find the prompts n dialogue here, pls feel free to join in and write your own version <3

✘ the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer. 

✘ CW: eddie munsson x fem!reader, very much rom com vibes cause come on it's me, first time writing for eddie pray for me, was tryna do fluff but turned into hurt/comfort, mentions of financial insecurity, eddie being the best bf material out there. 1k

The trailer door creaks on it's hinges like it's going to fall off any moment. It hardly registers in Eddie's brain, pulling the door more forcefully open with a beaming grin to let you in.

He's practically vibrating from the pent up anticipation. It's been a few days since you both have properly spent any time with each other. Between you being busy with college and him playing to a steadily growing crowd at The Hideout, the past few days consisted only of short kisses and exchanging i love you's in passing.

Eddie didn't really wanna pester you much either. Even though he missed you these days like a starved man, the relationship was fairly new and blooming and he didn't have the heart to somehow accidentally mess it up right from the get go.

"What brings you to the freak's humble abode, my fair lady?"

He gives you a toothy grin when he sees you telling him to silently shut up. You weren't a huge fan of the 'freak' title. "I come with gifts!", you hold up the small pastel paper box like a medal.

Eddie lets out a low whistle, with a whisper of 'gimme', making animated grabby hands till you place the box delicately in his outstretched hands. He immediately digs in with hurried but careful hands, cautious to not damage the paper cause he knows you probably took hours to get it just right.

A soft smile pulls his lips up at the small pastries. It looks absolutely delectable. Whispy vanilla frosting coated all over the soft sponge, the scent of vanilla bean hitting his nose, little flecks of edible glitter and sprinkles all tied with a plump strawberry at the top.

"You made these?"

"Mhm! We did chocolate last week and red velvet the week before that, so I thought we could go for a classic vanil-"

Giggles fill the quiet space of the trailer, Eddie placing light, ticklish kisses all over your lips. His grin only stretches more when you shriek his name to let you go, "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem!"

"Oh yeah, sweetheart? And what is that problem?"

"I will-" you push Eddie away enough so that only your noses are touching "- revoke your kiss license." You let out a soft snort at your boyfriend's devastated expression.

"You wouldn't!"

"I would, baby."

Eddie's huffing away with a quiet 'meanie' as you shake your head fondly at him, nudging him silently to open the pastries. He carefully sets two out, putting the others in the freezer for Wayne when you come back from the kitchen with two chipped mugs. Eddie's heart falls a little at the thought of you maybe judging him for this.

"Eddie."

"Mhm?"

You roll your eyes with a smile, "don't just stand there, open the damn thing!" You nudge the poorly made cat themed mug in his hands- his favourite. You watch with wrung fingers as he practically balances more than half the dessert on the fork to shove in his mouth, leaving flecks of whipped cream and frosting on the corners of his mouth.

"It's so....sweet."

You wince without meaning to, "and you like that?"

Eddie lets out a amused laugh at your anxiety ridden face. "Baby, that's probably the second best damn thing i've tasted." He shines a gleaming smile on you at your own grin of accomplishment.

"What's the first?"

"You." Eddie's loud laugh fills the silence at your disgusted but flustered expression.

His face falters a little when you shove the throw pillow on the couch behind you to get comfortable. Eyes follow your hands as you tighten your grip on your own mug, the handle chipped away from wear. Eddie's gaze flits around the trailer- the old video player, the less than impressive flooring, the comfy but worn out looking blanket that you've draped over yourself. It's definitely not the white picket fenced dream most want. He feels comfortable here but do you? Maybe you sometimes wished to hang out somewhere els-

"Hey."

Eddie snaps his gaze over to you, expression nervous and concerned. "Um- yeah." Clearing his throat, he shifts a little forward to pick his notebook from the table, mindlessly going through it in an effort to seem busy.

"I-uh, i ran out of like, nice cups,-" he briefly gestures to the one in your hand, "-is that okay?"

He would've found your furrowed, confused expression cute if it wasn't for the small ball of anxiety etched in his throat. "Yeah- i mean, of course it's okay." You look back at the cup in your hand, then to him and back at the cup again. "Are you okay?"

The curls on his head seem to bounce a bit as he nods frantically, twisting the cover of the notebook in his hand "it's just, you know, that thing isn't the nicest " he gestures vaguely with his hand around you, "i mean-none of this is-"

"Eddie."

"The place isn't the most romant-"

"Eddie." His eyes go from looking around in the trailer to you, you who inched closer to him without him realizing. "I like- I love the trailer."

"But-"

"No, don't be like that. That's not even true. Just because it's not a house with a big front yard and white roofs doesn't mean it's nothing. It's home." You smile as Eddie's eyes widen almost unnoticeably as you cup his face in your hands.

"It's home because it has you in it. And I wouldn't change that for anything."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, Eddie now burying his face in your chest with arms snaked around your waist firmly. His voice is muffled against your shirt that you have to strain to hear what he says, "sometimes, I feel like you being my girlfriend is a very detailed fever dream."

You feel his smile against you as you press a kiss on the top of his head. The silence stretches for a while before you break it, fingers making mindless circles on his back.

"I also come here for the trailer park cats."

The gasp Eddie lets out, finally releasing you from his hold, makes it hard for you to not burst out ugly laughing.

"You would choose the cats over me?!"

"Maybe."

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[captainlondonman]

TRUCKER

David  was almost beginning to panic. He was trying to get back to college and had been at the layby for some time trying to hitchhike but car after car and truck after truck had passed. He had made sure he was well dressed in a good pair of chinos and jacket as most of the time that always helped get a lift. Some had waved at him but most had just not even looked his way as he stood with the sign clearly showing where he wanted to go. It was getting on and there was a good distance to go before he got to the college.

Suddenly coming over the brow of the hill he saw a large truck and immediately stood further out waving his hand with the sign showing so the driver could see. The driver flashed his lights and slowed down to draw into the side of the road. David felt a huge sense of relief as he walked to the front of the truck, the driver rolling down the window.

‘Hi mate, I’m going your way so if you want a lift get in.’

‘Yes please, thanks so much.’

‘Climb on in then.’

The trucker swung open the door and David climbed into the passenger seat. As he did he was suddenly aware of the stench. It was a stale mix of cigarettes, beer and unwashed body. For a moment he thought perhaps I should just decline and wait in the hope of getting a car ride rather than this. Not sure how I can cope with this smell the whole way back.

At one point he thought he could throw up as the stench percolated his throat but the trucker seemed quite friendly and he thought he might try and roll down the window a bit to get some fresh air in.

‘So mate what’s your name and what are you doing?

‘I’m David and I am heading back to college, 2nd year.’

‘Well then I’m Brady and as you can see I’m a truck driver, been doing the job for years.

David turned to look at the  driver and take in his appearance.

The guy was a burly well built 6ft. with massive arms, tattoos all down one arm, heavy hands, a large round face with a thick 3 day growth, his plaid shirt was opened half way down his chest showing a forest of dark hair and a thick gold metal chain around his neck. He was wearing camos and well used rigger boots. As David’s eyes ran down the body he noticed that the guy had a long outline of cock  down one side, clearly commando. This was not a man to mess with. The trucker took out a cigarette and lit it puffing away without using his hand, the ciggie just hanging on his lips as he let out the heavy clouds of tobacco smoke. As the smoke filled the truck cabin David knew he had to cough.

‘Not the smoke from my ciggie is it?’

‘No ,no of course just having been standing outside for so long.’

‘Just as well as I love my smokies.’

The two guys talked and the trucker asked what he was studying at college

‘Mathematics.’

‘Fuck me’, the trucker replied, ‘a real clever dick. Never been good at that sort of thing. I love the open road. Suppose you never have thought of being a trucker?’ Brady asked with a smile.

‘No, not exactly, I’m probably more a desk bound person.’

‘Great shame mate as I could do with a mate as I travel around. You meet all sort of guys on the road and there are some good times, know what I mean?’

David didn’t dare ask what he meant but assumed a few beers and pool games.

Several times as David turned to answer a question  he noticed that Brady would put his hand down between his legs and give his cock a soft stroke. David wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or just a general thing as many guys did liking to stroke their dick and balls but he was certain that the length had increased a bit and looked more meaty.

After half an hour Brady turned the truck into a layby.

‘I need a piss and  a short pit stop. That all right with you? You probably could do with a piss as well. We’ll just go round the side of the truck so no one sees us.’

The two men climbed down from the truck and stood at the side, David feeling very uneasy about taking his cock out in front of someone he did not really know.

‘Don’t be shy boy. Let me go first.’

Brady unzipped his camos and stuffed his hand far down inside , widening his stance and then pulling out a large thick dick, especially thick at the top, with his large hand around his shaft he pulled his dark foreskin back to allow the heavy pink head to pop out. Stretching back with legs wide apart he let out a large arc of steaming pee.

‘Shit I need this, just look at how far my piss is going.’

 It seemed to David almost never ending and as the flow slowed down the trucker let out a mighty fart.

‘Sorry mate but I always let out a whopper fart when I finish pissing.’

David slightly turning away took out his good 6” cock and started to pee but was never going to make as much and let his piss go straight down onto the ground

Brady was giving his cock a good shake and turned to David,

‘Try and get you pee further way boy otherwise you will be splashing those nice chinos of yours.’

Brady stuffed the cock back down his camos but it was clear he had not shaken himself enough and David saw a large pee stain stretch out at the head of his cock.

‘Well while we are here best we have a ciggie and a beer. Let me get them out of the truck.’ Stretching inside he pulled out a packed of cigarettes and two beers.

‘I’ll light up one for you’ Brady said as he took the first puff and handed it to David.

‘I don’t smoke, I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t smoke? No one rides in my truck without a smoke mate. You smelt the inside and you made no complaint so at least give it a go. I don’t like being refused.’

With the trucker looming above him David gingerly took the cigarette and gave the smallest puff he possibly could.

Brady laughed. ‘That ain’t a fucking puff and don’t hold the ciggie like a fucking fairy. Now look watch me. Brady took the ciggie between his yellowed thumb and first finger and drew a large breath.

‘Now that’s the way. I tell you, do this and then take swig of beer and you will feel quite different about it all.’

Terrified at what might happen if he refused, David held the ciggie just like Brady and drew letting the smoke rush down the back of his throat immediately following it with a large swig of beer.

David felt the whole inside of his body warm like a large hot wave going from top to toe. To his surprise it actually felt good. How could it be when he hated smoking and generally when out he drank wine.

‘Not bad eh?’ Brady smiled.

‘Er no, I can’t believe it. Do you mind if I finish this cigarette off. I really like it especially with the beer.

‘That’s it lad, puff and swig away. It’s what we truckers do.’

As David continued puffing and drawing deeply before exhaling and then a good mouthful of beer, the warm feeling continued to surge through his body and not least all the way down to the tip of his cock. He was almost starting to feel horny and his cock was inching down his leg. He was worried about tenting but for him it was more important to finish the cigarette and beer.  As he took one large swig so he let out an huge burp. He was not embarrassed. It seemed the right thing to do as he smeared his hand across his mouth

‘Tell you what boy you almost do it was a true trucker.’

‘Yeah its great. But my shirt and trousers are starting to feel really tight on me,’ David said unbuttoning his top three buttons to allow more space and then undid his belt.

‘Sure looks tight to me and I have to say though that cock of yours seems to be enjoying this. A good bit of tenting going on.’

‘I don’t know what’s going on but every puff and swig my body seems to be getting bigger.  What’s more my cock is getting really itchy and making me feel almost horny.’

‘Good trucker stuff eh?’

David could feel the seams of his shirt straining and not only did the trousers seem tight but they were becoming short as well.

‘Tell you what Davey why don’t you take all your clobber off. I have some of my stuff that you can put one for now. Have to say but none of it has been washed for a good while but I reckon you will be OK with that. Go one strip off and put on my stuff.’

Brady leaned into the cabin and took out a dirty oil stained vest, a pair of camos, what were once white socks now yellow and a well worn pair of rigger boots.

David took off his clothes but by this time he felt his cock on fire and stiffening by the second. Brady threw the vest at him. David could smell it before he caught it., he could see the yellow sweat stains under the arms and the high body odour.

‘Go one take a real good puff before you put it on.’ Brady said

As David took a puff he looked at his hands. Both hands were bigger with dirty nails and the right hand had yellow nicotine stains. But it was not just the hands he noticed his arms were no longer pink, they were deep tanned brown with dark black hair forming a matt all the way up to his shoulders. The shoulders had bulked out and the hair continued over the shoulders and down his chest, hairs sprouting all the way  up to his chin. As he put on the vest it suddenly smelt great, he loved the sweat marks and he took in the pungent body odour just has he had smoked at his cigarette.

His chest puffed out and he could see a large pair of nipples clearly showing though the fabric but he now had a beer belly. His waist line had gone.

‘Now get those camos on lad. You’ll feel that cock of yours get bigger as it slides down inside and you will feel those piss stains as well as my cum marks. A guy on the road has to wank.

That’s it. Now look at those chunky legs on yours and shit man that is one thick cock straining inside those camos. Now use the belt and tighten so you can feel that beer belly of yours slip over.So how are you feeling Davey boy?’

‘I know my name is David but why is my body looking like a trucker?’

‘Just take those meaty hands up to your face now.’ David took both his now stained hands up to his face and was immediately aware that he had a bushy handlebar moustache that almost came over his mouth and down both sides. The rest of his face had a heavy two day growth but it was almost more of a shock to discover his hair had gone and instead was a shiny shaved head.

He now put on the stinking used socks and his rigger boots standing at least as tall as Brady if not taller.

How did he feel?

This was not him, the cute student boy on his way back to college. He knew he now looked like a trucker, a dirty trucker smelling of sweat and ciggies, a rough and ready trucker, but shit it felt good and all he wanted was to draw deep on another ciggie, belch and fart.

‘Hey Brady got another ciggie?’

‘Sure thing Davey, let me light it for you.’

As he took the ciggie in his hand, holding it like Brady had told him. He was about to take a deep puff when Brady said

‘This is it Davey mate no going back. Its trucker time.’

‘I am a trucker mate and a fucking good one’ David said as he took a deep puff.

At that point his voice changed to much deeper and with a strong accent. David was now 100% Davey

And a horny Davey with this thick dick straining at his camos

‘Tell you want Davey that cock of yours is too good not to suck. What say you flip it out for me and while I get down on you, you just keep that ciggies in your mouth and enjoy.

‘Hoped you would fucking say that, my cocks ready to burst and I need a good deep throat to take it all.’

‘Don’t worry about that mate my mouth was made to suck dick. Here let me unzip and feel that prick of yours as I take it out.’

Brady quickly undid the flies and put his hand in grabbing the full thickness of meat.

‘Shit man that cock of yours in throbbing.’

‘Throbbing for that mouth of yours,’ Davey replied so get it out and into yer mouth.’

Brady pulled out the thick cock

‘Jesus its thick the whole way down and what a fucking bush of pubes you’ve got. Keep smoking mate I’m ready.’

Brady got down on his knees and let his spit ooze out over the cock head and then used his tongue to slowly lick all around the cock head, feeling the rim before the full shaft. His hand was gripped around the shaft and he could feel the veins throb as he guided the head towards his mouth.. Davey stood with his legs astride, his arms folded and his ciggie drooping down from his lips as he inhaled. he let out a fart

‘Having me cock sucked always makes me fart. Hope you can smell with my hairy armpits mate. Now get on with the suck. Don’t just bloody rim I want to see that mouth of yours up at my pubes.’

Brady opened his mouth wide and breathing carefully let the cock enter  and start slowly to move down the back of his throat.

Davey taking one hand top hold his ciggies and exhale, took his other arm and grabbed Brady’s head.

‘Let me guide you all the way in,’ he said. ‘Let me control how you suck me. Let me feel those lips of yours press round my shaft. Now get your hands around my arse. I’ll let down my camos so you can feel my strong  hairy cheeks. I want you to grab all the hairs and my arse and make sure you get a couple of finger up my crack. I like to feel my hole being opened slightly so I then push further and further down your throat. That really turns me on.’

Now that Davey was controlling Brady’s head and his mouth  he was able to have both hands free to massage Davey’s hairy arse and he could feel the soft opening of his hole as his finger pushed passed the opening and into the hole.

Feeling the finger inside him, made Davey pull Brady’s head into towards him, the cock moving all the way down. At last Brady could feel the curly pubes against his face

‘What a fucking sucker you are mate. That mouth of yours was made for my dick. Get a fucking move on as I’ll need to light up another ciggie soon. All this makes me puff more.

Now take your mouth almost out and I’ll force you in. Then we can up the speed. Keep fingering my hole I love it.’

Davey now had both hands on Brady’s head pushing and pulling ever more quickly and the more he did the more Brady’s hands worked the hairy arse until 4 fingers were well and truly up inside.

‘Fuck man me arse feels great with those fingers up. I’m almost ready mate. Take yer mouth out of my dick now and I’ll finish myself off. I want to see my spunk over that face of yours.’ Brady sat back his eyes firmly fixed on Daveys cock. It only needed a few quick strokes for Davey to release his spunk. ‘Now take my spunk and let me see it over that face of yours.’ Great arcs of spunk shot out at Brady who tried to swallow as much as possible the rest over eyes and nose, great globs of spunk rolling down his chin and stuck on his beard.

‘Shit man those balls of yours have been building up.’

‘Sure thing mate I was needing to empty and what a fucking mess of your face.’

‘No probs man I’ll wipe off what I can and then I can stink of your spunk. Suits me. And tell you what man my cock is aching after that but you and I ain’t finished. Remember you are my mate and mates serve and help out.

As Davey spat out the ciggie, he puts his dripping cock back int the camos, a good sized stain appearing and then he lit up another ciggie.

Brady made a call

‘Is that you Mick? Just to let you know I have a new mate. You will like this one. He’s got the lot. Knowing you, thought you might like to meet up for a sandwich at our usual place. We can be there in the next hour.’

‘Sounds too good to miss mate. I’ll be there. Feeling horny just at the thought.’

‘You ain’t the only one horny. See you.’

The two guys got back into the truck.

‘So Davey mate, gonna see a chum of mine as he wants to meets you. Known him for ages and I think you will like.’

In the meantime keep one of yer hands on my crotch  and give us a bit of a rub. I’m still hard after that blow job I gave you.’

‘I can do better than that’ Davey replied. ‘Let me get that cock of yours out and give you a suck as we drive along. Truckers love cumin when they drive and don’t tell me you are any different.’

Davey unzipped the camos and pulled out the long hard cock.

‘Shit that’s a good one you got there mate a real 9”, straight as a ram rod. Bet that’s felt when it goes up a crack.’

‘Never had any complaints.’

‘No fucking wonder, with that cock you have to be a good fucker.’

‘I sure am. Now get that head of yours down and let me have the blow job you are promising. Love you sucking and all those cars can’t see what you are up to.’

Davey lowered his lips onto the cock head and let his spit ooze out and down the shaft.

‘May not be able to get it all the way down in this position mate but once my lips are clenched around that shaft of yours you will be ready to spunk.’

Davey opened his mouth wide and started lowering his head down the shaft, one hand around the base of the cock stroking the big heavy pair of balls.

‘That’s it mate give me balls a yank and good squeeze, brings out my spunk like a fucking rocket taking off.’

As Davey let his mouth slide up and down the shaft with increasing speed so he yanked the balls down as much as they could go.

‘Fucking hell mate me balls as bursting with the strength of that grab. That’s it suck and pull. ‘Jesus I’m ready to shoot. I’m cumming.’

As Brady leant back in the seat Davey took his mouth out but held tight to the balls and Brady let out a great stream of spunk, the white juice spouting up and hitting the windscreen of the truck.

‘Fucking hell, what a load of spunk you got there. I luv seeing it smash the windscreen glass. Just as I wanted to happen.’

Davey leant back over Bradys cock and took the remaining cum into his mouth.

‘Nice and salty.’

Brady replied, ‘Better clean the window so I can see out. All those drivers will be wondering what’s covering the glass. My fucking spunk. Not long until we meet up with Mike.’

The two guys pulled into a layby with another truck already parked up in front. There was only room for the two trucks so none were likely to interupt Brady’s plans.

Mike was standing outside the toilet waiting giving himself a gentle rub as the two blokes

 approached.

‘So this is your new mate.’ Mike said ‘I see what you mean Brady.’

Mike was a good 6’ 2’ well built with muscular legs and wide shoulders. Tattoos down both

arms which bulged out from his T shirt. The T shirt was short revealing a hairy base to his

chest and well worn jeans showed a well used crotch where the denim was starting to fray.

Davey could make out not just the line of his cock but see the head try to push its way

out of the frayed jeans.

‘Shit am I glad that you asked to meet up. Ever since your call my cock has been twitching

and looking at you Davey boy its gonna be some sandwich.’

‘What’s all this about a sandwich.’

‘Well Davey you are the filling and Mike and I the bread so let’s get inside as I’m needing a

fuck after your blow job.’

The three men entered the urinal area which stank of stale piss.

‘Shit, I love this place and the smell makes me even more hard.’ Mike said rubbing his cock

harder. Looks as though you have a big one down there Davey. Let me have a rub.’

Davey lit up a ciggie and said ‘help yourself mate. If I am the filling then you are bit of bread

  Im gonna take so hope you like big thick cock.’

‘Fuckin do Davey. When Brady called and suggested we meet I got my big black rubber dildo

 out and let it slide up inside me while driving so my hole is well prepared for whatever you

 got down there.’ As Mike rubbed Davey’s dick, it got harder and harder inching all the way

 down inside his camos until it was hard as a brick.

‘Fuck it is big, bigger than my dildo but at least my hole is now nice and open for you.’

‘Turn and face the wall,’ Davey demanded, ‘and hands up and stick that arse of yours out.’

 Davey then put his nicotine stained hands around Mick’s waist and undid the buttons on his

 frayed jeans pulling them down to his ankles.

 ‘Nice furry arse you got there mate just as I like.’ Davey then gave both cheeks a good slap.

‘Warm them up for you mate.’

Davey stood back and unzipped his camos pulling out his thick meaty cock letting a good

 gob of spit onto the shaft. Putting both arms around Mike he let his throbbing cock find

 Mike’s hole. His hole opened up to take the dick, Mike’s arse moving back so he could take

 the full length.

‘Fuck man that’s way better than my dildo. I can feel your cock throbbing as you push it up.’

‘No bloody wonder with a hole as wide as you’ve got Mike. As Davey pressed his hairy chest

 against Mike’s back , Mike turned his head and said

‘Let me smell your hairy armpits. I love sweaty hairy pits and you’ve a great amount of hair

 hanging down there.’ Davey lifted an arm and Mike’s head buried into the pit licking the

 hair and taking in the unwashed smell.

‘Fucking hell you’ve not  washed for days. Such a fucking turn on.’

Meanwhile Brady was watching and stroking his own cock.

‘Seeing you two lads going at it is so fucking great. My cocks on fire here needing to shed

 some spunk and that arse of yours Davey is ripe for the taking.’

Brady unzipped Davey’s camos and dropped them then took out his long rigid cock. Now it’s

time you become the real filling , stretch your legs apart for me but keep your cock in Mike

 as he fucking loving your dick and armpits. That hole of yours needs no spit its time I take

 you raw.’

‘Stop the fucking talking Brady and fuck me. My arse is ready for you and once you are up

 me to the hilt, I’ll give Mike a fuck he won’t forget.’

As Brady pushed his cock further up Davey’s hole he put his arms around Davey’s chest and

 started to massage his nipples through the vest.

‘Fuck mate, you know I like me nips worked on through the vest. Makes me so fucking horny

 and quit the massage give them a good nip and that will make me stick my arse more for

 you and make me push me cock all the way  up Mike’ss arse so my pubes are tight against

 his hairy arse.

‘Jesus Brady yank at his nipples even more as it sure is making him fuck me up to the hilt.’

‘The only one who’s snot having his cock worked is you Mike,’ Davey said bringing his hand

 round to grasp the long shaft. You need a good wank while I fuck you and I love me hand

 round a guys shaft while he has my cock all the way up him. Keep smelling my armpits you

 dirty bastard. Not bad eh, my stinking armpits, my hand jacking you off and my cock about

 to give you a sea of my juice. Cum on Brady let that cock of yours slide in and out but when

 in I want to feel if almost coming out my mouth so thrust well.’

The two fuckers were hammering each other with their pricks while Davey’s hand rubbed

 harder and harder up Micks shaft.

Davey shouted.

‘Hey men fucking and being fucked I’m about to come so let’s all shoot at the same time,

 and your cum I wanna see shoot against the wall and leave as a reminder to those that

 come in after us. Keep going on my nips Brady.’

Both Mick and Brady shouted, ‘Yeah we are ready man let’s all cum.’

And with that all three truckers let rip with spray after spray of cum

‘Fucking hell this is the best fuck ever.’ Davey shouted.

The three men slumped against each other and slowly withdrew their cocks from the holes,

the last drops of cum spilling on to the floor.

‘That was some fucking sandwich mate.’ Mike said. ‘Glad you called me, just what I was

 needing and a great trucker you now have.’

‘Yeah Mike I think he is the best yet’.

‘Tell you what I wouldn’t mind having him with me.’

‘I ain’t giving him up that easily.’

‘Maybe I have a say in all this. I’m now a dirty trucker and that’s thanks to Brady but for me

 now life in on the road with ciggies, beer and a good fuck. So I’ll tell you what I think you

 could do a bit of sharing with me. Mike’s hole is fucking amazing and Brady you fuck like a

 pro though I wanna have a go with you being up against the wall soon. So for the mo I stick

 with you Brady but Mike be ready it will be your turn. Then we are all happy.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Brady and Mick said in unison.

[cloudcountry]

proper compensation

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: Leona and Jamil went chasing Grim around Styx and got him back to you safely. It's only fair you offer them proper compensation.

Author's Comments: this was inspired by a dialogue part between leona and jamil during the phantom node searching in chapter 67 sector eight. i was so inspired that i wrote a four page oneshot for it for some reason. this might have made me a jamil stan. i dont know how all this ends because i havent finished it yet so this might be canon divergent (it probably is) so dont kill me please OKAY THANK YOU

~~~~~

There’s a knock on Ramshackle’s front door in the late hours of the afternoon. After everything that happened at Styx, you refused to let Grim out of your sight, and that includes leaving him to answer the door. He’s been unusually tired, content to accept your affection and sleep in your arms, happy and safe with the person he trusts. You hold him gently as you stand up, walking towards the door. You manage to stoop over just enough to get it open, and you’re met with the sight of two familiar people.

“Can I help you?” you ask, raising a confused brow. You don’t normally see Jamil and Leona together like this, much less together here.

“We got you back your furball.” Leona grunts, waving dismissively at the cat monster curled up in your arms, “It’s perfectly reasonable to compensate us for the return.”

“Indeed.” Jamil smiles, but there’s something so ingenuine about it that you can’t help but shiver.

“I…don’t have any money.” you fumble, trying to think up something to give them, “I can…do chores? Or something?”

You doubt they would accept your dusty furniture, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned from people at NRC, it's that everything comes with a price, and you best pay it in full if you don’t want to get screwed over.

“Nah. I got Ruggie. I don’t need another errand runner.” Leona shakes his head, looking more and more like a predator as the seconds pass.

“I can handle my chores myself. Make no mistake, I’m used to taking care of Kalim.” Jamil steps closer, reaching out to touch your hand, “Come on now, Prefect. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

You’re pretty sure you have figured it out, even if it seems like you haven’t. Because if they don’t want to exploit you like Azul did, they probably want what Ace usually begs for when he does something right (although he detests the word beg.)

“I…think I have an idea.” you confess, gnawing at your lower lip, “Just…let me put down Grim. He fell asleep in my arms and-”

“Oh, please. Allow me.” Jamil swoops his arms under Grim and plucks him out of your arms as easily as yanking a flower out of the grass. You yelp and gape at the boy as he waltzes into Ramshackle without a care in the world.

Like he owns the place.

Sneaky.

“What’s your idea then, herbivore?” Leona snickers, leaning against the doorframe like he also owns the place, “I would love to hear it.”

“Um…would you guys accept kisses as compensation?” you say, wrinkling your nose at just how stupid it sounds when you say it out loud.

Leona lets out a barking laugh, throwing his head back and all. You feel even more embarrassed now, taking his amusement as rejection.

“Oh, you’re smarter than you look.” he huffs, voice thick with amusement, “You nailed it, herbivore. Now are you going to pay up or not?”

You can feel your face growing warm as he leans in, eyes staring straight into your soul as if this doesn’t affect him one bit. Was he so used to teasing and moments like this that they didn’t even phase him anymore? Or were you just a flustered fool, dancing in the palm of his hand?

You ultimately decide that if it means receiving affection from him, you don’t care.

And so you allow him to brush his nose over your cheek, and you allow his breath to fan over your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation. He laughs at that, too, his hot breath only making you more and more anxious.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” you grumble, furrowing your brow with your eyes still clamped shut.

“Aww, do you want a kiss?” Leona teases, and you’re about to yell at him when he follows up with a quiet, “Well, fine then.”

And then he’s kissing you.

Your back is pressed against the doorframe as he cradles you against him. His hands are placed securely at your waist as he tilts his head, pushing against you as he searches for more, more. Your head is spinning with it all, and you’re certain if Leona wasn’t holding you up you’d be crumpled over on your doorstep right now. There’s a clear smugness in his movements, especially when he hooks a hand under your thigh and pulls it up. Your face could not be any warmer than it is right now, especially when he squeezes the flesh gently and his claws rake against your skin.

He breaks away and you gasp, the sound soft and bewildered. You brush your fingers along your lower lip, and even though it feels like it's burning it doesn’t burn.

Leona gazes at you, his expression so smug you have half a mind to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face, but then he turns on his heel and starts walking away,

“Well, that’s enough for me.” he yawns as if he didn’t just kiss you breathless (like a satisfied predator), “See ya around, herbivore. Thanks for the compensation.”

You manage to call out a shaky goodbye to him in your shock, mind still reeling and unorganized from the kiss. Why can’t anyone on this campus be predictable?! Never in a million years did you think Leona and-

Wait, Jamil. He didn’t leave.

You were so distracted by Leona that you forgot about Jamil and the fact that he basically shouldered his way into your dorm.

He’s still around here somewhere (unless he’s jumped out of a window, which is too much of a Kalim thing to do so you dispel the thought with a giggle.)

Great Seven, you’re not even close to being recovered from what just happened, but there’s no use delaying the inevitable. You make your way to you and Grim’s bedroom, hoping Jamil didn’t just dump him somewhere. Surely he’s responsible enough to not do that, right?

You discover that he does know where Grim’s bed is. Grim is still fast asleep, tucked away in his bed. You laugh again to yourself as you realize that Jamil probably still has the layout of Ramshackle memorized from when he stayed over during SDC.

“Yes, he’s fine. I made sure he didn’t wake up.” Jamil says from behind you, and you jump at the unexpected noise. Spinning around to glare at him (though the expression holds no malice), you jolt backward when you see just how close he is. He rolls his eyes at your mock annoyance and jerks his head to the left. He’s holding a tray of tea and snacks in his hands, and while the gesture would be nice from almost anyone else, you figure he’s going to use this against you later.

You enter your bedroom anyway. Jamil follows you silently and sets the tray of treats on your nightstand.

“Do you want the same thing as Leona?” you ask, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Jamil makes a quiet huffing sound under his breath but doesn’t answer your question. You let him pour the tea and hand you a teacup, and watch him as he pours a cup of tea for himself. You don’t want to push too hard, but he was the one that came to you in the first place.

“Jamil.” you say softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek, “You said you wanted compensation but all you’ve done is help me out. I need to pay you back, right?”

His eyes flicker toward you, and he sighs.

“I don’t want what Leona wants, Prefect. I was just teasing you earlier.” he mumbles, shutting his eyes as if he’s exhausted (which he probably is), “I would like to rest here with you. That’s all.”

Your mouth forms an o shape as you realize that no, the tea and snacks were not to trap you in yet another favor, but were meant to be part of your favor to him. There’s a stab of guilt in your stomach, and you swallow it uncomfortably.

“I thought the tea and snacks were for another favor you wanted paid back.” you confess, fisting your hands in your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be.” his tired expression turns wicked in a split second, his eyes gleaming with mischief, “I plan to take up more of your time than Leona did. This is me paying you back.”

“That’s too many transactions.” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm, “Just come here. “

Jamil follows your lead and clambers into bed, the springs squeaking under the extra weight. You’ve done well to keep your voice low for Grim, so much so that Jamil’s heavy sigh is the loudest sound that's been made in the room by either of you this afternoon. He slumps over against your shoulder, the top of his head bumping against your chin as his shoulders sag. You feel your heart twinge in your chest as you wrap a steady arm around him and rest your head on him, too.

You certainly wouldn’t mind if either of them wanted to do this again.

[specialagentlokitty]

Daryl x reader - out my sight

hello!! i just read out my sight and it was AMAZING!!! would you consider a part two, whatever you want, im just curious to see more esp with the fighting and the group probably like “y’all actually love each other?” till they see a small moment that makes them get it. if not, that’s a okay! im definitely looking forward to seeing more of your work in the future!!! ❤️ - Anon💜

Part two:

Daryl did everything to keep you out of harms way, even at the farm, nobody was allowed near you on their own, especially not Shane.

You were sat down on top of the RV, sniper in your hands as you scanned the area again.

“Hey!”

Lowering the gun, you turned around and looked down at your boyfriend.

“What?”

“I want my jacket.”

You huffed, crossing your arms and shook your head.

“Mine now, been wearing it long enough.”

“You ass that ain’t how this works, it’s mine, give it.”

You turned around, going back to your spot to keep watch and he walked around the RV, standing just below it with his arms crossed.

“Come on, give it back I want it.”

“Nope.”

“Don’t be so fuckin’ stubborn, you never liked it anyways.”

You grinned down at him, setting your gun down.

“Yeah but it’s mine now, plus it’s warm.”

“I know it’s damn warm, it’s why I want it.”

“Not happening asshat.”

“I swear to god I will come up there and take it from you.”

You mocked his words knowing full well that he wouldn’t actually come take the jacket away from you.

He knew that he wouldn’t either, he just wanted to wear it since you had been wearing it for so long.

He took the one he was wearing off and tossed it up, and you glanced at it.

“Swap me.”

“It smells like ass.”

“You smell like ass, gimme a jacket.”

You snickered, taking the one you were wearing off and you laid on your stomach, reaching down to pass it to him.

Daryl looked around and he dragged something over, standing on it he placed his hand on the back of your head, quickly kissing you before he took the jacket down and jumped on the floor.

He tossed it on and you smiled softly at him.

“You’re a bitch!” He called.

“Fuck you!”

You sat up there for a few more hours in the sun before you swapped with Dale, and you walked over to the tent your boyfriend was living in.

Looking inside, you shrugged and made your way up to the house, sitting on the steps next Lori who was watching Carl kick some stones about.

“Any idea where the dickhead went?”

“Which one?” She laughed softly.

You grinned a little at her, pulling Daryl’s jacket a little closer around you.

It did smell bad, but it still smelled like him, and it was comforting, especially after so long without being with him, knowing he was alive.

“The one that follows me likes freakin’ shadow.”

“Ah, Daryl, he went hunting.”

“He’s a dick.”

“Aren’t you dating him?” Andrea asked confused.

You shrugged a little, titling your head back to look at her and you took the cup she offered you, drinking some of the water before setting it aside.

“Yeah, but he’s still a dick.”

“Yeah, he’s not exactly the friendliest of people.” She laughed softly.

You nodded, and looked at the small group you had learned was taking care of him.

They seemed like good people, and you were glad he had that, because you knew he needed good people in his life even if he didn’t want to admit it.

You spent the day up at the house with them, helping with a few tasks that they needed help with before making your way back to the tent, sitting inside.

You laid on the blankets, closing your eyes in hope for a few hours of sleep, but it didn’t come because someone tapped the fabric.

“Hey, we’re all getting ready to eat, are you coming?” Rick asked.

You waved your hand dismissively.

“Tired…”

He chuckled a little.

“Come on, just a bit of food then you can come back for some sleep.”

“I’m gonna throw my boot at you…”

“Alright, alright. I’ll get someone to set some aside for you.”

You nodded your head and he closed the tent again, letting you go back to sleep.

You heard shouting outside, and you furrowed your brows, sitting up and unzipping the tent to peak outside, hand on a gun Daryl had left for you.

“Daryl… shut the fuck up…” you mumbled.

He whipped around, walking over he unzipped the tent.

“Get your fuckin’ ass out here.”

“Nah…”

You crawled back inside and laid down to go back to sleep, wanting to make the most of it.

“Hey! Don’t you dare go back to sleep you lazy fucker! Get the hell out here now!”

You refused and he walked into the tent, hooking his arms under yours he dragged you outside and dropped you by the fire.

Snatching a plate from Shane who protested and tried to take it back he walked over and put it next to you.

“Fuckin’ shithead, skippin’ out of meals the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Don’t be such a prick.” You said.

You pushed yourself up, sitting so you could eat the food you were given and Daryl smacked the back of your head.

“Hit me again I’m gonna break your damn fingers.”

“Try it fucker.”

Everybody shared a look.

Daryl sat behind you, resting his back on yours as he began to clean the bolts for his crossbow.

“You guys seriously love each other?” Shane scoffed.

Rick punched his friend in the shoulder.

“Mind your own fuckin’ business.” Daryl grumbled.

You leant forward then fell back, hitting your back against his.

“Be nice shithead.”

He scoffed and grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.

When you were finished eating you made your way back inside the tent to go back to sleep, and it wasn’t long until Daryl came through a few minutes later.

He laid next to you, resting his head on your chest and you placed hand on his head, gently messaging his scalp.

He hummed a little bit, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Don’t see why I gotta play nice with ‘em. Don’t like ‘em, I like you.”

“You bitch, you hardly play nice with me as it it.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” He smirked.

He leant up, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw, then your shoulder.

“Don’t you try sucking up now.”

“Come on, say it.”

“No.”

“Say you love me darl.” He whispered.

You hummed a little, placing your hand on the side of his face, running your fingers along his cheek, tilting his head up towards you.

“Say it first…”

“Course I love you stupid.”

You grinned from ear to ear.

“Daryl Dixon loves me.” You beamed.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Laughing, you leant down, and he leant up, connecting your lips together.

You pulled away and he rested his head on you again, closing his eyes.

“Go to sleep..” you whispered.

He nodded, and fell asleep before you, but you knew he was still half awake.

He woke up before you, and he brushed his knuckles along your face, then leant down, kissing your forehead.

He looked between the two jackets and he picked up the one you had recently been wearing.

He was off back out today, and he knew you knew, but he wanted to go before you woke up so you wouldn’t attempt to go with him.

You decided to stick near the RV to wait for him to come back, so when Andrea announced a Walker and you looked through the scope of your gun.

You couldn’t get a good view, so you climbed on the fence, standing on it to try and get a better view.

“Don’t shoot!” You called up.

“Come on it’s just one, I can take it!”

“Yeah and draw others! I’ll go out!”

You jumped the fence, putting the gun on your bag you caught the stick that was thrown to you by Dale and you slowly crept closer.

The closer you got the better you could see.

“Daryl?” You called.

He looked up, and you ran over.

You heard the others shouting and you wrapped your arm around him, placing a hand on the wound in his ribs.

“Don’t shoot!” You yelled.

Daryl coughed a little, leaning against you, his head on yours.

“You’re alright sweetheart, we’re gonna get you some help yeah? You’ll be just as new..”

“Ain’t a few war wounds sexy on a man?” He smirked.

You laughed a little, taking hold of his hand.

“Ya damn right.”

The others ran over, and you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s chest.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s still human!”

“Come on, let’s get him back to Hershel.”

There was a bang, you and Daryl were thrown back.

Quickly rolling over you looked at the wound on his head.

“No.. no… no… Daryl…?”

“Get him! T-Dog get (Y/N)!”

You were hauled away from Daryl and you yelled, trying to break free so you could get back to him.

“Fighting me isn’t gonna help him!”

You stopped, tears running down your face and T-Dog let you go so you could run after them back to the farm house.

You fell jumping the fence, scraping your arm.

You tried to run into the house but they wouldn’t let you in.

“(Y/N)! Calm down!” Lori pleaded.

You stood there, and you turned your gaze to Andrea.

“You fucking shot my boyfriend….”

“I.. I’m sorry.. I.. I thought…”

“You shot him!”

You charged forward and you were pulled back, thrown aside by Shane, and Carol knelt next to you placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I swear to fuckin’ god if he dies Andrea I’m gonna kill you…” you sneered.

“You’re bleeding..” Carol whispered.

“I ain’t getting it looked at ‘till I know he’s alive.”

“You think that’s what he would want? You know he’d want you to get looked at.”

You looked up at her, tears burning your eyes.

“Not until I know he’s alive…”

She slowly nodded her head.

“Alright.”

So, you sat there, staring at the house, waiting.

You could see them all talking at the front, and it was Rick and Lori who walked over.

The crouched in front of you.

“He ain’t dead… tell me he ain’t dead.. Rick I swear to god…”

“He’s alive. He’s alive, but he needs to rest before you can see him, alright? That all Hershel asks.”

You nodded your head, knowing it was for the best if he were left to rest alone, but you knew that Rick wouldn’t lie to you.

“Come on, let’s get your arm looked at.”

You let them pull you up and you followed Lori inside to get your arm cleaned and bandaged.

The whole night you stayed on the porch, just waiting and nobody dared to move you, even as the sun rose and they began to come and go.

Lori came over.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I know you want to wait for him, but you think you could help me with some stuff?”

You nodded, needing the distraction and to keep yourself away so you helped her with some cleaning and things by the RV.

“You know she didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t give a fuck, I did Lori. If Daryl dies. If he turns. Amma put a bullet straight through her eyes.”

“You really gonna do that for me?”

You spun around, dropping what you were holding, and Daryl grinned a little bit at you.

“Ain’t that sweet.”

You walked over, placing your hand on his ribs, able to feel bandage from under his shirt, then you raised your hand, brushing your fingers against the one on his head.

He brought his hand up, taking yours and he held it to his chest, leaning down to put his forehead against yours.

“Am alright, ain’t no need to go killin’ people now is there?”

“She shot you…”

“Everybody wanted to shoot me at least once, takes more than a bullet to bring me down darl, you know this.”

You shook your head, closing your eyes as you brushed your nose against his.

You sniffled a little and he pulled away, bringing a hand to your face so he could wipe away the tears.

“Hey, come on now, don’t cry. I’m alright.”

Everybody kept their distance, but it all made sense to them now.

You guys argued a lot, but that moment made them all realise how much you really did love each other.

The way he wiped your tears away, resting your head on his chest, an arm wrapped tightly around your waist with the other on the back of your head.

The way you clung to him tightly as if he were the one thing keeping you together.

Daryl kissed the top of your head repeatedly.

“Come on, come on darl… stop cryin’ am starting to feel bad and I was the one who was shot…”

You laughed weakly and you pulled away.

Taking your jacket off, you wrapped it around his shoulders, and he smiled a little at you, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Come on, let’s get you some sleep moron, I heard you been awake all night.”

You nodded and he took your hand, leading you to his tent so you could get some sleep.

He sat down with a grunt of pain, and you looked at him worried, but he just guided your head to his chest, letting you rest on it.

He ran his fingers through your hair, just like you did for him, and he held you tightly and close, making sure you were safe.

When he woke up after being shot he was terrified it was you that was hurt, and they wouldn’t let him go see you until he slept and was rested enough.

You held his hand close to you, and he smiled down at you, shuffling down so he was laid down with you curled up next to him

[vvxgs]

°˖✧˚ WARNINGS: light angst. ˚✧˖°

"I'm calling you for the twentieth time!", Charles shouted as soon as he spotted his teammate. "Where have you been?"

"Doesn't matter. What happened?"

"Y/N was here about an hour ago."

"What?", the Spaniard inquired.

"I was surprised too. She seemed off, but left something for you. A letter."

That's when he realized that the fuse had been lit. Y/N was the spark leading to his ignition. Now it was a matter of whether the Spaniard could prevent the disaster from happening in time.

When his fingers touched the paper, he knew what he was about to read would irreversibly change his life. For a brief moment, he even had the urge to tear the envelope into pieces and deny himself the chance of knowing its contents.

Dear Carlos, Is this how I should start this letter? I have no idea. The last letter I wrote was about seven years ago. I addressed it to Santa Claus. But I figured you deserve more than two sentences, more than just a regular text or email.

My plane has probably already taken off, so stay where you are. Don't throw everything away trying to catch me. It's too late for that.

Maybe I'm acting selfish, giving only one of us a chance to explain, but I'm sure that whatever would come out of your mouth wouldn't change anything.

I'm learning not to dwell on our parting. I'm learning the way one learns to walk. I might stumble a few times, but then you won't even notice, and I'll cover that distance with a run.

We're too different. If I decided to stay and try, it wouldn't be healthy. This poison spreads too fast. It's unstoppable. And the antidote? It doesn't exist.

Someone once said that life is like a puzzle. The picture can be complete and perfect when all the pieces are in place. Why do we try to force a piece into a space when it doesn't fit? Don't look for me. Don't try to force me back into your life.

I understand you want to explain a lot to me, but keep it to yourself. It's the only way I won't start hating you.

Goodbye Carlos."

Carlos stood still. His muscles were relaxed, his head slightly lowered. The Spaniard was one of the indestructible. Of course, someone had chipped away at his fortress a few times, but never enough to make his castle crumble. The foundations were strong enough that despite many attacks, his body didn't resemble ruins. But that day, everything indicated that Carlos Sainz had given up.

He stood like that for a while. The letter and the white envelope slipped from his fingers, and he watched as the white sheets turned gray from the still-wet soil.

Finally, he twitched. He turned around and started walking toward the garage, not even glancing at his teammate standing there. But Charles observed him very closely.

His face was stone-like, hot and salty drops flowing down his face, leaving a trail of sorrow in their wake.

"Where are you going?", Charles finally managed to utter a question as Sainz was about to pass him.

He put his hand in his pocket, pulled something out, and moments later released pieces of paper from his hand, immediately snatched by the wind.

Sainz heard the sounds of engines. He looked up. Among the clouds, a plane soared, leaving behind a white trail.

"To hell,", Carlos exclaimed, still walking in the chosen direction, his pace quickening. "Because without her, there's no heaven."

[radioactivepeasant]

Surprise Snippet because I didn't get time to post a schedule this week

(Woe: Summer Reading Programs be upon me)

But because I can never resist giving Damas of Spargus a hard time, I propose the following scenario: Jak carries germs from Sandover that modern people aren't vaccinated against. Modern people like Damas. And because Jak doesn't do anything by halves, it's a disease that only effects channelers because it's a non-dark-eco eco imbalance.

In his roughly twelve years as king of Spargus, Damas had dealt with the occasional illness. In the two years before he took the throne, he'd gotten all manner of unpleasant ailments. Crane Cough, White Flu, Dust Colic, even! And that was something most Wastelanders grew out of in infancy! But vaccinations were for the elite. For everyone else it was survive or die, unless you were willing to hand over your entire artifact intake for the week.

Damas had been one of the lucky ones: being a channeler meant he recovered far more quickly than some of the other recent exiles.

He'd grown complacent since then. A germ could be dealt with in no more than a day or two with a little eco and a couple hours of rest. He could pinpoint the early warning signs of every disease common to Spargus and Haven alike.

That was, in hindsight, the first sign that Jak had not originally come from Haven. Because whatever was rattling around in that bullheaded kid's immune system was like nothing the doctor had ever seen before.

It started so innocuously. A slight pain behind his eardrums that he could ignore. Stiffness in the joints that he put down to having finally passed forty. Something sluggish in the chest, almost like anxiety.

He already had Anxiety, that didn't narrow anything down at all.

And then, without warning, the symptoms all combined and intensified. It felt like influenza, but without the respiratory distress. Worse somehow.

The boy was present when the symptoms crossed from incubation to a full manifestation of whatever hell he'd just contracted. The timing could hardly be worse: he'd just finished reprimanding two young scouts for fighting in the vehicle pit. And of course, Jak had been one of those scouts. He'd thrown the first punch, because of course he had, but at least it hadn't been unprovoked this time.

"At least". As if there being two guilty parties was somehow better.

Evidently young Kwan had proposed some kind of bet revolving around artifacts, and suggested that the loser would have to go shirtless for a day and show off their scars.

Damas didn't support Jak breaking his nose, but seeing as he was convinced that every Wastelander under twenty-five had some degree of senselessness, he supposed it was probably a valuable lesson for Kwan.

Which did, unfortunately, make it hard to rule fairly between them.

Ultimately, Kwan was given a sharp rebuke about goading non-consenting comrades into bets -- especially when some degree of their autonomy was on the line.

Jak's reprimand was more along the lines of warning him to either walk away or find an older Wastelander to handle things, blast it all-!

But seeing as Jak was the first one to throw a punch, it was Jak who had to forfeit the artifacts he'd picked up for the day in order to pay for the eco Kwan would need.

Not that this stopped Damas from adding that this hadn't been the first time Kwan's love of bets had gotten him into trouble, but by Volcan it had better be the last.

A rather shame-faced Kwan had just left the tower -- like rot was Damas going to allow them to occupy the same elevator at the same time, somebody would be dead before the ground floor -- when the lung cramps started.

"I'm...sorry," Jak was in the middle of saying, with extreme reluctance, "for fighting in the garages. I'm not sorry for hitting him, though."

When his only answer was an unnaturally wet sounding cough, he looked up to find Damas clinging to his staff for support. His other hand gripped his chest, veins standing out. He'd gone pale.

"Oh shi- Damas!" Jak ran up the stairs. "What's wrong?"

"Are you choking?" Daxter asked in loud, exaggeratedly slow words, "Do you need assistance?"

What's it look like?! Damas wanted to shout, but he could barely get his lungs to expand enough to breathe, let alone speak.

Something bitter and hot flooded his mouth on the next cough.

At least his lungs had reopened with the ejection of the fluid, but he couldn't help wondering if he'd just coughed up a vital organ. Damas spat, and something thick and colorless splattered across his boots. It wasn't bile, nor mucus. There were, on closer inspection, specks of color floating in it. Green, red, yellow, blue- the colors of eco, but far more saturated than they had any right to be.

Jak pulled his fingerless glove off and laid the back of his hand against Damas’s forehead like he was a child. Just as quickly, he removed it.

"Uh. Have you been having like...a lot of aches? Joints and jaws and stuff?" he asked nervously.

Damas glared at him, but ultimately nodded.

"Crap. Crap crap- uhhhh okay. Okay!" Jak ran his fingers through his hair.

"Damas, you gotta sit down, okay? It's Blackwater virus, so altitude is bad, right?"

"Th' rot's* Blackwater?" Damas rasped. He clenched his teeth against the ache in his jaws.

"Pal," Daxter said to Jak, with an unusual gentleness, "They don't have that here. Probably haven't for a long time, you get me?"

The ottsel hopped down from his shoulder. "You stay with Lumpy Lungs there, I'm getting a doc to rule out everything else."

Damas knew without asking that Daxter was trying to spare Jak. That boy had a debilitating fear of exam chairs that went beyond the usual childhood disdain for doctor appointments. And by now, Damas wasn't the only Spargan who had connected the dots between his fear of doctors and his refusal to let anyone see all of his scars.

Jak took hold of his arm and pushed him down to sit on the stairs. Any other day the manhandling would've gotten someone at least a good punch in the gut. But right now Damas could barely catch his breath enough to stand his ground. That was humiliating even without the unidentified fluid still lurking at the back of his throat.

"Okay, okay-" Jak was talking more to himself than to Damas. "Eco's pretty saturated so you're prooooobably right at the beginning of this. Crap.”

The boy dropped to sit beside him with a groan.

"I- crap! I'm sorry, Damas! I didn't think I was in here often enough to pass Blackwater to you! I swear, I thought I wasn't contagious anymore!"

The pinching in Damas’s lungs returned, and with it, the wrenching coughs.

"You-?" he managed to gasp.

Jak winced. He looked so strangely young when he felt guilty about something.

"Two- two weeks ago? Remember I didn't take any jobs for a couple days and you had someone go make sure I was still in the city? I was getting over Blackwater virus. I um."

He tilted his head back and blew out a breath.

"Used to only get it when I was little. But after the- after what Praxis did to me, I'm more susceptible to it than I used to be. Usually I can catch it in the incubation period before it gets bad, but I've been more focused on work than tracking symptoms."

"Why," Damas wheezed, "didn't you just get eco?"

"From the white coats? Rot no!" Jak snapped.

"From. The well." Damas bent double with another cough. "I know. You're. A channeler."

"Oh." Jak looked away and tapped his fingers together nervously. "Good point. But...no, eco doesn't work on Blackwater."

"What?"

"It's the eco that's infected."

"What?!"

* author's note: the use of "rot" as a curse word in Spargus is used as an abbreviation of an older curse. The full phrase, usually lobbed at Marauders during skirmishes, would be "Go rot with your dead gods". That's a bit of a mouthful, so Wastelanders just looking for a handy expletive will shorten it to "rot"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>

Legend said no one had ever made Damas of Spargus do anything against his will. Or at least, no one that lived to tell the tale. The previous ruler of Spargus didn't count. Just the idea of telling the king where he could and couldn't go was sacrilegious!

...unless you were the new kid, apparently.

In fairness, Damas didn't actually remember Jak talking to the doctor and that blasted moncaw. He didn't remember the moncaw reluctantly giving in to Jak’s...strongly-worded...demands to be shown where Damas slept at night. What he did remember was a ringing in his ears that blocked all sound, and a vicious ache in the front of his skull. He remembered someone slinging his arm over their shoulder, and then he was coughing too hard to actually pay any kind of attention to his surroundings whatsoever.

He didn't remember entering his rooms. But he most certainly remembered the moment he realized he was on the couch he used as a bed when he couldn't bear to unlock the room he'd shared with his wife and child. Jak was all but shouting at a monk who had apparently followed them in.

"He doesn't need eco! You give him that, he's gonna feel five times worse!"

"I hardly think a boy is qualified to tell me the ways of eco."

"It's rottin' Blackwater! You wanna help him, or you wanna poison him?!"

The monk planted his feet. "You will not stop me from treating my king, newcomer." He reached for the flask of eco all monks carried.

Daxter made a sound like a buzzer. "Brrrzt! Wrong answer! Jak, get this clown outta here."

Before Jak could oblige, Damas caught him by the wrist.

"No. Fighting," he coughed, and gave what he hoped was a stern look.

Jak softened his voice immediately. "I'm not, I'm not. Trust me, okay? I'm helping you."

"Sire!" cried the monk, clearly worried, "The scout won't listen to reason! The doctor brought me in because he couldn't identify this poison in your system! Let me give you the eco your body needs to heal, please!"

Jak shook his head firmly. "The virus will use it.”

"What virus?!" Brother Rhys exploded, "These are not the symptoms of a disease, they are the symptoms of a toxin!"

"I am aware." Jak turned away from him. "I get this about once every two months. I know what I'm talking about, okay?"

Daxter hopped up onto the couch as if he meant to intercept any eco. "It sounds counterintuitive, but you gotta go with the old ways on this one, doc. Modern medicine makes it worse."

Jak crouched in front of the couch, ignoring the monk.

"I'm gonna get you some water, okay?" he said in a low voice, "This is pretty much going to wreck your system for a couple days. You should probably cancel any meetings you got coming up."

"Probably?" Daxter sounded offended. "Try absolutely! Blackwater puts you out of commission for days, and you're you!"

"I'm not gonna tell you what to do-" Jak started.

"Yeah we are," Daxter interrupted.

"...yeah, I am," Jak sighed in resignation.

"I know it sucks, okay? But you gotta let this flush itself out."

"And how. Exactly. Will it do that?" Damas growled.

Who did this boy think he was, giving him orders like they were kin? He was barely out of puberty and he wanted to take command?

"Charcoal."

"You must be joking," Rhys complained, "We've gone back to the dark ages!"

"Why d'you think it's called Blackwater?" Daxter asked dryly. "You gotta flush the toxins the old fashioned way."

"Don't think," Damas wheezed around another chest cramp, "that there won't be a reckoning for this, boy, because there will."

"Uh-huh. After you drink the charcoal.”

[heli-writes]

Seven summers, part 6.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?

Disclaimers: Make-out session, allusion to sex, no full-on smut (they're still minors, y'all!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, July.

The weather in England has been cold and rainy lately. It doesn't seem to be July at all. Y/n longs for those warm, long summer nights outside in her parents' garden, playing cards and drinking bubbly lemonade. Instead, she's clinging to her umbrella and making herself as small as possible so that she doesn't give the wind too much space to attack her with its whipping water. She's waiting for Draco near the entrance of Diagon Alley. She watched several wizards enter and leave the place, but no Draco so far. Y/n wonders if he will actually show up. They've been exchanging letters via owl, as usual. At the beginning of the school year, Draco's letters have been arriving quite frequently but there were less and less letters the last few months. Y/n knows there's been some arguments with his rival Harry and a new teacher. Draco was appointed a certain position in a Club or something. He didn't really tell her what's it about but ever since he's been more reserved than before.

Y/n waits for almost an hour before she gives up. She walks through the pouring rain back to the bus stop. She stops by a Costa and treats herself to a hot cup of tea on the go in an attempt to warm herself up. On the bus, she plugs in her headphones and stares out of the window. She tries really hard not to cry and hopes that none of the other passengers notice th water dwelling in her eyes. When she gets off the bus, her head's pounding from the oppressing of tears. Y/n walks straight home and up to her room, without taking off her jacket and boots. She can hear her mother complaining about the water on the floor, but she doesn't care. She's just dropped onto her bed when she hears the soft clank of Draco's owl on her window. Y/n gets up and sniffs. This guy has some nerve, she tells herself as she walks up to the window. She takes the letter from the owl and throws some dried meat in its direction, a habit she picked up a while ago. She leans back on a chair and reads.

Dear y/n,

I won't be able to make it today. I'm really sorry but there have been some issues in my family recently and my mother needs my support. I hope the whole situation dissolves itself soon.

I'll send you a letter when it's possible to meet again. I hope you can understand.

Draco.

Y/n folds up the letter and puts it in a box beneath her bed where she keeps all of Draco's letters. She writes a quick response and hands it to the owl who is patiently waiting outside. She watches the owl fly away. I must've just missed his message, y/n thinks. Yet still she can't shake the feeling that something is off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco lets y/n wait for two weeks. Y/n got antsy with every passing day without hearing from him. Eventually, he sends her a letter and proposes a meeting in Windsor Great Park for a stroll and coffee. Y/n is nervous all morning and has to redo her makeup twice after ruining her eyeliner. Again, y/n is the first to arrive. She walks up and down the entrance of the Savill Garden.

"Hey", she suddenly hears behind her. Draco is standing right next to her with a loopy grin on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes, y/n thinks. She smiles at him nonetheless and opens her arms to hug him. Almost hesitantly, Draco hugs her back. It's a bit awkward. "Do you want to go inside?", y/n says and points to the garden. Draco nods. They take the tourist route but there aren't many other people around. It's probably because of the grey clouds that hang low above their heads. They walk along the path between rows of bushes and other plants.

Draco doesn't make an attempt to start a conversation, so y/n does. "So, how's your family? Everything alright? Your letter sounded quite serious.", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs and doesn't answer immediately. "I guess, we're alright. Things haven't been resolved but it will be ok.", he tells her. Y/n nods reassuringly but she feels that Draco does not really believe that last part. "If you don't mind me asking... what happened?", she asks carefully. Draco kicks a stone out of his way. "My dad has been involved in some stuff. He's temporarily contained.", he tells her. Y/n stares at him with big eyes. "Like jail?", she blurts. Draco gives her an angry look. "Yes. My mother did not take it too well.", he replies. "Oh.", is all that y/n manages to say. They walk in silence for a moment. "What about you? How do you take it?", she asks him. Draco shrugs again and does his best to look somewhere far ahead. "Draco...", y/n mumbles and touches his arm. "I'm fine.", he says harshly, "My mother needs all the support she can get. I can't be weak in a situation like this". Y/n steps a bit closer to him and rests her cheek on his arm while taking his hand. "It's not a weakness to feel bad about a situation like that. It only shows how much you care about your parents.", she tells him. Almost instantly, she can feel Draco's shoulders slump down. He turns to her and finally pulls her close. He hides his face in her hair. "I must do everything I can to clear my family's name. One way or another.", he points out. Y/n thinks about this for a moment. "It's not your responsibility. Support your family as much as you can, but don't let the weight of it pull you down.", she replies. Draco shakes his head. "You don't understand... my mother...", he starts. "...is an adult. We're only sixteen, Draco. There's only so much we can do. Somethings we must let the adults handle.", she points out. Draco shakes his head again. "No, my mother can't handle this. I'm the one who has to fix things. I've been chosen.", he tells her. Y/n frowns. "Chosen? By whom? For what?", she asks him. Draco lets go of her. "It doesn't matter. The point is I'm going to handle this. Don't worry.", he says coldly. Draco walks a bit ahead and y/n stares after him. She's got a really bad feeling about this but it's clear that Draco isn't ready to talk about this.

She jogs after him. "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. We haven't seen each other since Christmas and I really am happy we're spending time together today.", she announces and gives him a bright smile. She holds out her hand to Draco and looks at him expectantly. Draco sighs and then takes her hand. They continue their stroll and y/n tries to distract Draco with silly stories about school and her friends. She updates him on Olivia's situationship and manages to pry some stories about Blaze and quidditch out of Draco. The atmosphere loosens up a bit and soon she finds Draco genuinely smiling again. They wander deeper into the garden and don't notice how the clouds above them get darker and darker. They're laughing about one of y/n's stories when the first drop landed on y/n's cheek. Draco wipes it away carefully. They look up and notice how armageddon is right above them. Within seconds, it's pouring. Draco pulls her close and uses his wand as an umbrella. However, the wind whips raindrops onto their sides. They rush along the path, deeper into the rows of trees ahead of them. They're almost soaked when they finally find shelter in a stone pavilion.

Y/n is shivering but glad there are still some parts of her that are dry. Draco sits down next to her and puts an arm around her. Y/n nuzzles closer into his side. Draco leans his head against hers. They don't speak and when y/n finally looks up, she immediately meets Draco's gaze. He must've been staring at her for a while now. Immediately, he leans close and they meet in a kiss. For a moment, everything outside the pavilion seems to stop existing. Y/n kisses him back feverishly and grabs his collar. Draco's hand is tangled in her hair and his other hand wanders down her side. Y/n presses her upper body closer to his and Draco pulls her onto his lap. They kiss until they can't breathe anymore. Y/n leans her forehead against his as both of them catch their breath. There are no sounds besides the pouring rain outside.

"Draco?", y/n breathes. "Hm?", he mumbles in response. Y/n's heart leaps in her chest. It takes all her courage to say: "I think I love you". Draco leans back and looks at her with surprise in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't expect a confession of love. Immediately, y/n feels embarrassed. She wishes she could take the words back. "Y-you don't have to say it back. I just thought...", she rumbles but doesn't get to finish her sentence. Draco puts his hand onto the back of her head and pulls her lips against his again. He gives her a deep, longing kiss which leaves y/n breathless once again. When he lets go of her, he looks at her longingly and strokes over her cheek. Then he presses a kiss on top of her head and pulls her into a hug. Y/n feels warm and fuzzy inside and she almost forgets that Draco did not return the confession.

They stay in the pavilion until the heavy rain fades into a soft summer drizzle. Only then, they start wandering back to the entrance of the garden. They part ways rather quickly since the rain started again after some point. However, y/n proposes that he should come visit her soon. Her parents will be visiting her grandparents all the way up in Keswick and will be gone for a couple of days. They put y/n under house arrest for the time being (considering what happened last year), but allowed to have a friend over. They probably thought about Olivia but when y/n asked her, Olivia immediately declined saying that y/n simply must invite Draco. Draco is a bit hesitant to accept the invitation and says that he will have to see how things at home. They both decide to write soon.

On her way back to the train station, y/n has mixed feelings. On one hand she's over the moon about meeting Draco finally again, on the other hand, she's also worried about him. Having a father in jail is already troubling but it sounded as if Draco was ready to do anything to fix that. She wonders if that included more than giving a testimony in front of a court. One way or another, he said. She hopes Draco is smart enough to not do anything stupid, or illegal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, a few weeks later.

Anxious. That's how y/n feels as she waits for Draco at King's Cross. Y/n and Draco have been writing back and forth for the last couple of weeks. Draco's been really quiet about his father's situation and y/n didn't push too much. However, whenever y/n brought up Draco coming over, he kept saying it probably wouldn't be possible and that too many things were going on. Which clearly indicates that things haven't been resolved. Surprisingly, Draco sent her a letter a few days ago saying that meeting her would be possible after all. Apparently, his mother and his aunt visit a family friend, giving him a chance to slip away. When y/n got Draco's letter saying that he would be visiting after all, she immediately called Olivia who immediately rushed over. Giggling, they wrote lists and prepared the house for what y/n's parents assumed was a sleepover. It also leads to her parents being quite relaxed about leaving y/n alone for a few days.

Right now, y/n is waiting for Draco to arrive at King's Cross. Obviously, Draco does not take a muggle train. He arrives via floo powder somewhere close but they agreed to meet at the station from where y/n would take him home. Y/n nervously scans the crowd in front of her. Suddenly, she feels a tap on her shoulder. "Hey, there pretty girl.", she hears Draco say behind her. When she twirls around, he is mere inches from her face. "Draco!", she laughs and throws her arms around him. Draco almost drops his bag while trying to keep his balance. Y/n quickly retreats. "Sorry!", she says. Draco puts down his bag. "That's alright.", he tells her and pulls her close by her arms. He hugs her close and hides his face in her hair. Y/n's heart skips a beat. When he lets go of her, he looks over his shoulder nervously. Distractedly, he says: "So, uh... is your house close by?". Y/n tries to see what's behind him or what he's looking for but when he turns back to her, she gives him a bright smile. "We'll have to take the bus.", she tells him and takes his hand. Draco sighs behind her. "You don't happen to have a fireplace, do you?", he mumbles. Y/n laughs. "No, sorry! We have central heating.", she says as she pulls him along with him.

While Draco feels visibly nervous in the station, he relaxes once y/n and him have entered the bus. When y/n asks him why, he tells her that there are probably no wizards here who could see them. Y/n nods understandingly. It's a short walk from the bus station to y/n's house. Her house is one of these terraced houses with white, wooden windows and a small front garden. It's nothing special really but her parents had to save up for it for quite some time and they're really proud to call themselves 'homeowners'. Y/n thinks it's a bit ridiculous but then again she's never bought a house and doesn't even know how much it would cost. Y/n pulls out her keys and opens the door.

She holds the door for Draco. "Ladies first. You can put your shoes over there.", she tells him as she quickly pushes him inside. Ever since they made a turn into y/n's street, she's been the one looking over her shoulder. Can't have the neighbours see her sneaking a boy in. She's pretty sure that the nosy old lady from across the street would just love to tell her parents all about that. Y/n quickly closes the door behind her and pulls off her jacket. Draco is standing in the hallway looking around and feeling a bit out of place. Y/n points past him. "Go on, straight through that door. There's the kitchen", she tells him. They enter the kitchen together and y/n quickly puts the kettle on. "C'mon.", she tells him and leads him to the room to the right. It's the living room which has a small conservatory attached to it. It's her mother's favorite room since it's always bright and open. In the middle, there's a large couch with pillows and blankets. On the left is the telly and a coffee table. "It's cozy", Draco notes as y/n leads him to the coach. "Sit down. I'll make the tea.", she tells him as she rushes off back to the kitchen.

She prepares a tray with tea, mugs and some biscuits. When she enters the living room again, Draco still sits in the same position as she left him. I guess he feels a bit awkward, she concludes. After she pours him a cup of tea, she asks him: "So, what do you think? Is this how you imagined muggles to live like?". Draco laughs and rubs his head in embarrassment. "Actually, I'm not sure what I expected. But it's really nice. I like this room.", he says and points to the conservatory. Y/n pulls one of her legs under the other and takes her tea cup. "Hm, you really had no image in your head how I live like?", she asks. Draco shakes his head. "How do you imagine I live like then?", he replies. Y/n thinks about that for a moment. "I guess I imagine a big house, maybe a villa. An old one, maybe Victorian? I imagine a big staircase right when you enter. Old, but classic and high-quality furniture.", she explains. Draco looks at her surprised. "That's actually not that far off.", he tells her. "I can't imagine your room though. I feel like I can imagine your dorm room better than your room at home.", she says. Draco takes a sip from his tea. "Do you want me to describe it?", he asks her. Y/n nods excitedly. He crooks his head. "Let's see. My room is upstairs, in the East Wing. It has a window facing the East as well so that I can see the sunrise every morning. My walls are painted in a greyish-blue. My furniture is black. When you enter the room, you're standing in front of my bed. Opposite the bed is the window and in front of it is my desk. To the left of the desk, is my wardrobe which is always messy and to the right are some shelves with books.", he describes. Y/n tries to imagine the room. In her head, the room is kind of empty besides the furniture Draco described. "Is there anything else in the room?", she asks. Draco names some quidditch equipment and some other tokens that y/n has trouble imagining. Draco tried to explain quidditch to her one time but y/n fails to truly understand the game. Probably, because she's never seen a person riding a broom.

"Would you like to see my room?", y/n proposes and Draco nods. They walk back to the hallway and up the stairs that are on the left. "My room is all the way up, beneath the roof.", she tells him as they climb up the stairs. Y/n's room is the only room on the last floor. When she opens the room, there's her bed to the left and behind the door is her closet. Right in front of the door are three windows. In front of the middle one, is her desk. On the left is a little reading niche and on the right is a dressing table and a cupboard. A chain of lights is strung from one side of the room towards another. Y/n makes some space for Draco to enter. He looks around the room in silence. "So, what do you think?", she asks. "It suits you. I don't know how I'd imagine your room but this fits you perfectly.", he tells her. Y/n giggles and drops onto her bed. "You think so?", she says. Draco nods and turns around in her room before joining her on the bed. Y/n thinks the sight of him in her room is a bit strange. Like he doesn't quite fit into it. He's dressed in black (like always) and her room is dominated by beige and pastel tones. "Yeah, it's bright and warm. And girly. And cozy.", he replies. Y/n snuggles up to him. "You like it?", she asks him. Draco pulls her closer to him. "Yes. Actually, I like your whole house. Everything is very home-ly.", he murmurs and kisses the top of her head. He pulls her back and they fall on top of the comforter of y/n's bed. Draco turns to his side, pulling her closer to him. Y/n takes in his scent and puts her head on his chest, just beneath his head. Draco's hand finds its way into y/n's hair and he scratches the skin of her skull a bit. Y/n feels how the three magical words lay heavy on her tongue again, begging her to speak them out loud once more. She swallows them down quickly, however. She doesn't want to make a fool out of herself once again.

They lay there for a while and y/n is not sure whether or not she may have dozed off a bit. The room's colour faded to grey indicating that the sun was about to go down. Draco stretches next to her and sits up. "Are you hungry?", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs but y/n knows him well enough that that means yes. They end up ordering pizza and watching y/n's favourite movie. Setting up the telly, Draco is fascinated by the technology and asks a bunch of questions about how it works without magic which y/n definitely can't answer. She lets Draco choose a movie afterwards and they spend the evening rotting on the couch. Eventually, the titles roll and y/n sits up stretching. She peeks over to Draco whose eyes are closed. Did he really fall asleep?, she thinks and pokes his cheek. He wrinkles his nose and opens an eye. "Sleepy? Wanna settle for the night?", y/n asks and Draco yawns and nods. They get up and climb up the stairs to y/n's room. After brushing their teeth, they climb into y/n's bed and Draco pulls her close. Y/n leans her head against his and lets her hand rest on his chest. Draco gently strokes over her back and places soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks and her nose. Y/n crooks her head and meets him in a soft kiss. It's slow and sweet. Draco puts his hand into her hair and pulls her face closer to him, deepening the kiss. Y/n's heart starts beating faster. They kiss like this for a bit until Draco rolls her over so that y/n lays flat on her back. Draco hovers over her while continuing to kiss her. Y/n puts her hands behind his neck and one of Draco's hands runs up and down her sides. Y/n feels goosebumps forming all over her body. Draco's hand finds the hem of her shirt. His fingers dip under it, softly circling the skin of her hip. He leans his head back for a moment. "Is this okay with you?", he asks. Y/n nods breathlessly, not trusting her voice to say yes. She's expected it to happen tonight. Hell, she kinda hoped it would. Draco pushes his hand under her shirt exploring the warm, naked skin underneath it. Y/n lets her hands run down his back and pulls his shirt up a bit. Draco sits up for a moment and pulls it over his head. Y/n stares up at him in awe. He looks even more pale than usual with the moonlight hitting his skin the way it does at this moment. She sits up a bit and runs her hand down his chest. Draco gently pulls on the neckline of her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off as well. Y/n swallows. She's nervous. "We don't-", Draco starts but y/n cuts him off by pulling her shirt off as well. Draco doesn't say or do anything for a few seconds. Then he slowly traces a line from her shoulder over her collarbone down to her chest. He leans forward again, kissing her deeply while finally cupping her chest with his hand. Y/n lets herself fall back on the pillow.

She won't worry about anything tonight. Not about her parents or Draco's parents. About whether or not a wizard and a muggle can be together. By the time Draco's hands wander down to her pants, she has forgotten about most of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @gypsylilim @caffeine-addict-slug @huiiline @rclector @am0iur @nofacenonamelikekira @0iheartu @jahaina @eringaitskill @jae-is-confused @stormy-stardust @a-beaverhausen @niyahzda1 @idkwatodoanymore @cumuluscranium @moongirl27 @smilefortae @idkimjusthereman @ethyxia @nana-jaeminie @thatswhatmakesmefree-blog

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[sl-ut]

sweet cliches

NSFW

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!preppy!reader

description: just some spicy hcs about abby’s relationship with preppy!reader 

warnings: smut, cursing, probably a lot of grammar/spelling mistakes (i was really high when i wrote this), swearing, mentions of drinking and drug use 

date posted: 29/03/23

series masterlist

abby’s a service top, that goes without saying

*cough*MUNCH*cough*

early on in the relationship, things are pretty vanilla

she goes down on y/n, y/n goes down on her, done

as time passes, however, abby starts to realise how addicting y/n’s pussy is

she can literally spend HOURS going down on her girl

uses her brute strength to pull her back in as she tries to escape her touch, throwing y/n around into different positions before diving back in

she loves to eat it from behind or have her sit on her face, and she really loves to sixty-nine

she also likes to be standing while she facefucks y/n

there was absolutely nothing more that she loved than the sight of her strap sinking into y/n’s sopping cunt

the girl is strap happy and can dick someone down better than any man

she likes to do this from behind but her favourite is when she leans back and watches as y/n bounces eagerly on it

she likes to let y/n take charge while also reminding her who’s actually in control by lightly wrapping a hand around her throat 

the original strap is light blue, though once things get more serious, she decides to order a new one in y/n favourite colour; it’s a translucent baby pink with flecks of glitter within the silicone

it just didn’t feel right to her to continue using the old one on her special girl when she had been using it on others before they started dating–the new one was for y/n and y/n only

scissoring is touch and go with these two

most wlw would agree that when it’s done right, it’s really good, but it can feel very awkward and strange for a lot of the time

for y/n, she’s not someone to get off via scissoring. she likes how it feels, and genuinely loves the idea of the raw, primal aspect of not using fingers, tongues, or toys to fuck

instead, while it definitely feels good, she usually lays there and lets abby use her body to get off

and get off, abby does. abby personally really enjoys it, though she knows that it’s not y/n’s favourite so she doesn’t bring it up often, only when she really needs to get off

abby is a boobie lover

don’t get me wrong, she loves all of y/n’s body, but her mouth literally waters when she gets to paw and suck at her tits

likes holding them in a non-sexual way as well, just cupping them silently as she nods off to sleep

fucking after big games

y/n in her cheer uniform and abby in a pair of sweats that she changed into after the game

if they won, expect passionate and intimate sex, if they lost, expect rough and fast

when she’s not bouncing on the strap, y/n’s riding abby’s thick, muscular thighs

sometimes things can get a little silly

abby can be a bit awkward from time to time, despite the confidence that she practically oozes

she’ll spit out a random little comment that she had intended to sound sexy, and then stop her movements as they both begin to giggle at how strange it sounded

not really smut, but i think the general consensus is that abby wears boxers, but i’m more convinced that she prefers boybriefs to boxers and would actually rock thongs and g-strings (from experience, i know that it’s a lot more comfortable to wear these when playing sports/working out bc they don’t move around and won’t give bad wedgies)

she likes to watch y/n touch herself, but will instruct her on what to do

my girl doesn’t like to share, so any thought of inviting others into the bedroom is a definite no, but i feel like she might be open to letting someone watch?

it would have to be someone that she was certain had no genuine feelings for either of them

maybe someone at a party? they had snuck away for some alone time and some girl stumbled in, sat down, and watched as abby went to town

soft dom

doesn’t like to leave visible hickeys

she cares a lot about her public image, and prefers to keep her private life private

will definitely leave them all over y/n’s tits, thighs, and ass, but will avoid leaving them on visible areas like her neck and shoulders

likes to watch porn together <3

i feel like abby doesn’t have a particular type that she watches, just usually picks something random

but then i love the idea of y/n scolding her and spending like half an hour scrolling through the videos

“i like it when they tell a story”

abby thought this was really funny and adorable

aims to make y/n squirt

the first time it happened, it shocked the both of them

abby had her in a mating press, rubbing her clit and fucking into her with her glittery pink cock

y/n suddenly started to slap her chest and try to pull away, claiming that she was gonna pee

abby was no stranger to what this meant (i mean, who wouldn’t squirt from her) and just kept going, once again using her brute strength to keep her still and praising her as her juices began to splash out all over the both of them

while she might get kinky from time to time, she honestly just loves that kind of soft, domestic sex

it makes her feel so close to her partner

like when y/n slips into the shower with her and just slides down onto her knees, or hoisting y/n up onto the counter while they’re waiting for the coffee to finish brewing

after being together for a few years, she definitely developed a breeding kink

while y/n’s still in school, abby will use sex to motivate her to study

when she’s procrastinating on writing a paper (i’m definitely not self inserting here lol) she’ll offer to get her off for every five hundred words she writes

or she’ll be helping her study and start rubbing her clit, speeding up with every correct answer and slowing down with every wrong one

in contrast, y/n will use sex to distract abby when things are all becoming a bit too much

when she’s stressed over exams and won’t come to bed, y/n will sit on the desk in front of her in nothing more than one of abby’s t-shirts

when abby leans back and tries to scold her, y/n will simply part her legs and expose her leaking cunt to her

abby will try to resist, but will only last a few minutes before grasping her thighs and tugging her to the edge of the surface and going to work

after letting her do her thing, y/n will lure her into the bedroom and will go down on her to tire her out even more

abby can’t stop kissing y/n during sex

it’s always so erotic, y/n will be riding the strap and abby will tear her lips away from the jiggling tits in front of her to jam her tongue into her mouth

it would be soft, though, no clashing teeth or fighting for dominance (there’s no point in fighting for that against abby)

instead, it’s slow, gentle tongues brushing together, swallowing each other’s moans

abby loves fucking after a night out–whether its date night, one of her team dinners, or the pair of them had attended a family function. something about getting to strip away y/n’s pretty clothes and watching her makeup getting ruined from sweat, tears, and abby’s juices

sex on special occasions is both of their absolute favourite

depending on whose occasion it was, the other would do their best to make it more special than usual

after abby’s team won the championship game, y/n surprised her after the big party by wearing her jersey and a pair of lace, crotchless panties underneath

abby went feral for it, not even bothering to take a single thing off of her, instead just pushing the jersey up to release her breasts as she worked her up and down on her strap

when y/n made the dean’s list, abby treated her to an at-home spa experience, taking special care to work her open on her tongue and fingers so many times that she couldn’t remember anything aside from abby’s name

[pocketramblr]

For the AU ask game, what about a roleswap between Izuku and All might?

Fun fact: a role swap does not necessarily mean an age swap. It really depends on what roles are being swapped.

1- The Symbol of Peace, Dekiru, has been the Number One Hero for a few decades. Happy, bright, and always moving, his smile is the only part of him not covered by his lucky green rabbit costume. Toshinori was a few years out of college when he was rescued in Dekiru's debut, and sometimes when he's sad or needs motivation, he goes back and watches videos of it. Which is why what he's seeing is impossible:

2- Dekiru's mask torn off, revealing a child's face, still round and freckled even with the pale skin and dark eye bags. Toshinori would think he was just a kid cosplaying the hero, except that kid definitely just saved his life from the villain now knocked against the wall, and even as the kid is passed out on the ground too, a thin layer of smoke is flowing from the neck of his costume, trying to obscure his face, too late. When Toshinori gets closer, black tendrils flip out from his arms and stand threatening over him. Toshinori holds up his hands, "I just need to check your pulse and airway" and he's allowed closer to do that. The kid wakes a few minutes later, and in a crack of green lightning, they're dashed away to the roof of a nearby building, the kid panting. Toshinori asks what's wrong, how can he help?

3- Dekiru sighs, and then tells Toshinori everything. He was created in a lab by a villain trying to get a very specific quirk. He couldn't wait however long it took babies to manifest, and he didn't want to deal with adults, so Dekiru has always been a child. But even then, the villain would not get the quirk he wanted. Dekiru escaped with some help- don't ask- made pro hero, made number one hero, and went and killed that villain a few years ago. However, doing so weakened him- he used to only need one hour of sleep a day to reset and get 23 of quirk usage and crime fighting. Now he only gets two hours of energy from each hour spent asleep, though he really does try to push it. Hence, just passing out now. He's swaying on his feet now, actually. Toshinori offers to carry him to his agency- he could throw his bright yellow suit jacket over the kid and carry him on his back, without the mask no one would realize who he was, just assume he's taking his kid home. Dekiru says it's fine, actually, and flies them both off the roof- only to fall the last few feet. Bright red, he agrees, though he tries to use float to be as light as possible as Toshinori's back. Not that it's needed, the man isn't as fit as he was when he was younger, but he's still plenty tall and strong.

4- except, ah ha, you know how they kinda left the villain from earlier there? Whopsie attack number two a few minutes later, and Toshi just puts Dekiru down behind him and grabs a pipe to fight back with. With the villain defeated, Dekiru looks up at Toshinori, and asks if he wants his quirk. He'd make a great hero, and probably would be able to do more with it than Dekiru can, since he'll only need to rest more and more over time. Toshinori accepts, walks Dekiru back to his agency, and gets a number to talk about it later.

5- later, Toshinori asks what will happen to Dekiru when he gives up his quirk. The kid is evasive, and Toshinori is pretty sure he'll lose his repowering speed even more until it goes away. He asks if Dekiru has ever done anything besides sleep and fight. Dekiru hasn't, and Toshinori ties his acceptance of the quirk to the fact that Dekiru has to gain something too. A normal life, friends, school, something. Toshinori suggests UA- they changed their rule to allow quirkless students, so Dekiru could get his license that way and prepare using support gear, have a second run at a real career and life instead of giving it up all to Toshinori. Dekiru admits that Nedzu was one of his fellow lab rats kept by the villain and would probably be all too excited to approve of this, but don't expect not to end up owing Nedzu a favor after this. So, Toshinori begins training physically again, this time to receive a quirk, and Dekiru begins studying, since he never needed school before and has several years to catch up on if he's going to be ready for high school in a months. Toshinori gains a provisional licence in the winter and can get a full one after a year at an agency, which Nedzu insists be UA. After sending Dekiru off to the entrance exam with a good luck and double checking all his support gear, Toshinori gets invited to watch, and almost has a heart attack when Nedzu stamps "Accepted" on the paperwork as Dekiru dismantles a giant robot, sliding the stack over so that he can see that on the top of the boy's form, his name is listed as "Midorya Izuku" and for emergency contact, "Yagi Toshinori (Uncle, legal guardian)"