#levis ribcage

[calpicowater]

Week 14.8/52: April 3rd - April 9th 2023 | Japanese Afternoon Tea 🍵

Reunited with Yvonne aka one of my closest friends in high school. It’s been 6 years since we last hung out and maybe 10 years since we had a proper meal together HAHAHAA. Went to try the afternoon tea at Tsujiri. Tier 1: eel rice, salad, sushi rolls. Tier 2: matcha cheesecake, matcha macarons, biscuits, jam. Tier 3: matcha & hojicha ice cream and dangos. Overall very yum. Not SUPER fulling, I definitely had another dinner after this but it’s a super nice thing to eat if you want to sit there and just talk for 3 hours (which is exactly what we did). Nice catch ups!! 

[thefoxandfern]

No Man's Land

No Man’s Land

I absolutely love this time of year! Everything’s so colorful, the air’s fresh, and brisk! It’s also a great time to get out and explore. I’ve only been in Montana for a few months now, so I still have a lot to experience. Before taking these photos we went to a coffee shop in Lakeside, I got a London Fog, and Tyrell got a Huckleberry milkshake. It’s one of my favorite ways to spend a Sunday…

[valleydean]

Lady at the coffee shop said I look "so cool" with my sunglasses but I think I look even cooler with an iced coffee

[quantobono]

definitely not me craving for a surgeon!levi x resident!reader... yeah caught me redhanded, I'm watching the last season of grey's anatomy... I was thinking slow burn like really slow, kinda enemies to lovers (actually scratch kinda I want me and Levi to really hate each other), a lot of banter and a lot of smut yes... at first I was thinking Levi as a neurosurgeon BUT I actually envision him better in cardio??? like the "(not so)heartless" surgeon specialized in fixing hearts??? OR EVEN AS A PEDIATRIC (I actually don't like children but idk I can see that too, I'd fold tbh)??? wow I would gulp this shit down my throat like fucking coke with ice during the hottest day of the year

[darkloveangel]

any interpretation of the obey me! boys as anything other than muscle twinks makes me go feral. like in the good way

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI

fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words

“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 

he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 

cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.

he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.

“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.

“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 

a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 

“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."

normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 

levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”

you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 

levi makes his way towards the door. 

“levi?” 

he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 

but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 

you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 

he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 

he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 

no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 

levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 

their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 

his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 

“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.

armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”

levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 

he should've known.

“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.

“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."

levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 

“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”

eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 

or so he thought, anyway.

historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 

“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”

levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.

eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 

it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 

“how long have you been together?”

“does she actually like you?” 

“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 

“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 

“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 

"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 

“five—” 

a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.

levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.

even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.

he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.

[dilfsfordinner]

Imagine slow, tender sex with him induced by the storm outside, the water battering the roof, windows shuddering under the wind and walls shaking, thunder cracking every couple seconds, your moans a sharp rival to the sky as he repeatedly coaxed such noises from you, reaching parts of your body you didn’t think possible.

His hands would be cradling your head or clasping your own fingers, maybe grasping your ankles on his shoulders, or even pushing your thighs to your chest as he rocked into you. It would be so intimate, the ruthless weather outside heavily contrasted to the deep connection the two of you shared.

His forehead would rest upon yours, heavy breaths followed by cooed ‘I love you’s’ and caring words, your mouths occasionally meeting in desperate kisses. Your bodies would be pressed so close it felt as if you were one, your frame completely engulfed by his own, chests breathing in tandem as each of your heartbeats racked your ribcages.

The room would be shrouded in darkness, maybe a candle somewhere glowing orange, the lightning outside occasionally lighting up the two of your bodies. The storm would make the atmosphere even more passionate, the only sounds heard being the thunder outside and the soft gasps coming from your bedroom, hushed whispers covered by the hurling rain, the world outside forgotten as you succumbed to the pleasure in each other’s arms.

—————————————————————————

EREN YEAGER, Jean Kirstein, Levi Ackerman, Reiner Braun, Getou Suguru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Trafalgar Law, Red Haired Shanks, Kyojuro Rengoku, Akaza, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Adrian Tepes, KENZO TENMA

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer // mammon // levi // satan (you are here) // asmo // beel // belphie -- others coming soon, NSFW warning below, gn!reader

satan, who doesn't care much about the exchange program, anyway. he's quite content to keep to himself. he's got his books and his quiet, so don't come bringing you or his boisterous siblings anywhere near his room. he's perfectly content listening in on the occasional loud conversation that echoes down the hall, or the bickering at dinner, or the trail of his brothers toddling off after you on the way to school. it's... interesting, he supposes. but he won't let himself get too invested.

satan, who reads a lot of romance books. he has hundreds of stories detailing the greatest loves of all time. fleeting eye contact from across the room, hands brushing against one another, secret smiles to each other and no one else... he's read it all before. he knows the way a love story shakes out every time. there's a predictability to it that he finds comforting. so how does he miss it? how does he not notice himself following that same storyline? can't he feel the way his cheeks flush when you say something sweet, or how his heart rattles in his ribcage when you smile? poor thing won't realize he's smitten until it's far too late. he'll look up from his book to see you one day and realize he can't untangle the main character's confused infatuation from his own.

satan, who has a lot of connections. thus, a lot of people know who he is, and it's not an overstatement to say that a lot of people lust after him. he's always very clear that he's not interested in anything long term, but once in a blue moon his desires get the best of him and he indulges someone. he's got the demon underneath him bent over, arms pinned against their back, silent domination with each steady, deep thrust. no matter how they try rile him up, he won't let them see him lose control. he's quiet, occasional groans and pants leaving his lips, as he steadily coaxes them-- and himself-- to the edge. he'll inevitably spare them his time for another round or two (he does have a reputation to uphold, after all) before slinking off into the night with a quick goodbye. he's got better things to be doing, after all.

satan, who still has a lot to learn when it comes to keeping his emotions in check. you have opened him up to a range of emotions he never thought he'd experience-- but now it's up to him to work through them. lust, adoration, trust, love. he has to hide his disinterest with others, now, as he leaves conversations in favor of your company. they just don't make him feel like you do. can't you see what you're doing to him? he just doesn't feel in control of his own emotions around you. not in the enraged, irritable way he felt before, but almost pathetic in the way he needs you to make him feel things, to learn how to live with all these thoughts and feelings and-- fuck, you're going to be the death of him.

satan, who never would have guessed he'd end up in this position. for all that he's wanted you, he never quite convinced himself that he'd be able to have you. and yet, he does. his hands are holding your wrists as he pins your back against his mattress. how did he get here? he remembers something of a playful bout of wrestling before this point... but your eyes, those eyes, looking up at him, wide and lustful and focused on him alone... his lips meet yours quickly, almost sloppily in his urgency. he thought he would be softer. he barely hears the loud riiiip! of your shirt as he tears it off of you. your gasps turn off his logic and activate a primal desire in him he didn't know he was capable of. he's more forgiving with your shorts and underwear, wrenching them off urgently but leaving them in tact as he tosses them to the ground. his mouth sucks and nips at your collarbone as his fingers toy with your sex, lubricating his fingers with your juices and working them into your eager hole. his fingers stretch you in a scissoring motion, your noises of delight spurring his pace forward until he can feel you squirming with an impending climax. he pulls his slick fingers out of you and spreads whatever's left across his cock. he eases into you and growls. his words have escaped him. all his flowery language, the declarations of love he wanted to share with you, escape him in that moment-- he can't even fucking speak. you're too good. you don't seem to keen on doing much talking, either. you impatiently bounce your hips back against his, and that's all the invitation he needs to begin fucking you senseless. his pace is ruthless, cock slamming into the deepest parts of you, stars dancing in your vision until you teeter over the edge much too soon. his pace slows just long enough for you to recover before his hips are rutting harshly into yours, skin clapping as you moan and whimper for him. when he finally finishes, it's deep, painting your insides white and creamy. he eases out almost apologetically-- that is, until he sees his cum dripping from your hole, your legs shaking a little in the wash of sensations. suddenly he's easing right back in, murmuring an apology under his breath as he fills you once more. you've awoken a side to him he's never seen-- surely you'll understand his need to explore it, right?

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. | chapter 21

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.8k Summary: day 163 - also know as the day your world changed Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - mentions of violence, death, bloodshed; miscommunications; amnesia trope; angst af

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CHAPTER 21

Bergamot. 

He smells like fresh dirt and home and bergamot.

A pair of arms cocoon around you, holding you in place. Cradling the back of your head, lifting it from touching the ground, is a strong palm. 

Sounds of the outside world are muffled; distant.

Here all you can hear is the wild thumping of your heart, your blood strongly coursing through your veins.

I am alive.

I am alive.

I am alive.

The crash happened so fast—

Falling from the sky. Sliding across the forest floor. Rolling over and over and over—

Until your body stopped abruptly against a cushion of muscle.

When the dust cloud settles, when the fog fades into vapor, you open your eyes.

Shades of deep, vertical brown overtake your vision. It's so vibrant, familiar yet new. For what feels like hours you stare at a small bug, a speckled ladybug, crawling in circles until it decides to head north.

With each passing exhale your attention travels with it — up, up, up — when causation connects:

One of the mighty tree trunks of the forest broke this violent fall.

(But not just for you — he was the one to take the brunt of the damage.)

He...

When your lips part, your mouth is dry.

Constricted, confused lungs try for their very first breath.

Inhale.

Breathe.

Stay with me.

But that isn't your voice; not in your mind's eye.

Blurry images flash along your vision, sprinkling red, black, and silver against the brush and trees of the forest.

No matter how many times you blink, squeeze, tear up, the visuals scatter like materialized pins and needles.

They won't go away. They clip to your peripheral, forcing you to confront what's ahead.

Nothing is linear. Nothing is clear.

Nausea, relief, uncertainty, rage — these emotions assault your senses. Emotions. Mind.

It’s like waking up after a horrible dream.

One you’ve been kicking and screaming to leave the minute it started.

Let me out.

The freefall plays over and over, a never-ending loop of sickening weightlessness, without a means to jolt yourself awake.

Let me out, let me out, let me— 

Something mirrors your heart beat and fractures in its own rhythm, pounding erratically against your chest.

Your heart still beats, but not as panicked — not as heavy — as this.

As... his.

Him — the one who broke your fall.

(Levi.)

Without thinking, your trembling hand rises past his ribcage, up his arm, to his fingers resting on your trembling shoulder.

Then you realize it isn't your body that's shaking.

It's Levi's.

Quivering like a leaf, gasping for breath as if he’s run a marathon. 

He doesn’t move. He’s frozen in time, right where you left him.

(I’m sorry.)

Over and over, you replay precious seconds in the back of your mind — fractured memories you’ve only just begun to uncover.

Falling.

Darkness. 

(James? James, shit, wake up—)

A voice crack.

Hopelessness.

Instinctively your arms surround him, as if dissolving him into your very pores will somehow help with the confusion in your gut. 

Even when your fingers raise hire on your shoulder to glide along his, he doesn’t relax. 

If anything, his ivory muscles forge into steel.

Prepared, like you’re the enemy.

They do not soften when your fingers curl, timid and experimental, around his hand for reassurance.

(Wake up.)

They do not yield when you exhale, slow and steady.

They do not rest when you squeeze, as if to offer a sign of life.

(Please, James, don’t do this to—)

“Levi.”

Two syllables — you murmur his very name, realizing the severity of all that you’ve missed.

The dampness of the Underground City right above your heads;

The heat of the sun on a riverbank of the surface;

The light of the morning, just outside an open window, glittering over a bare shoulder;

All puzzle pieces, scattered across a large table.

They fit together in a way — you just need to figure out where.

When you inch your face away from his body, you see it: those blue-gray eyes, pupils dilated and whites wide, staring straight through you.

(As though lost in another time, in the same nothingness you’d lost yourself in for months.)

His chest heaves in and out, trying to catch a breath that just won’t come.

Wretched, heavy gasps contain the fear.

The panic.

All while reliving, too.

“Levi?” you ask once more, softer this time.

A sharp battle cry sounds above your heads. You glance high to witness the silhouette of Petra flying through the canopy of trees with a trail of steam behind her, swords extended.

The titan has been defeated. 

The forest floor quakes and shivers with its demise.

Except that isn’t how the mission happened last time.

The realization is a chilling thought creeping, infecting, the back of your mind as you return your attention to the captain in front of you.

“Levi.” 

You urge firmer this time, but it’s no use.

Levi Ackerman continues to stare ahead, but he blinks. Rapid fire, as if trying to return to his body.

This face.

You gravitate towards this face that consumes every waking dream you’ve ever had.

Caging his face between your palms, you finally snap with a command.

“Levi, look at me.”

His gray eyes shoot down, catching yours, and your entire world feels warm again.

The light in a never-ending darkness.

Your past is your present and your present tumbles into your past.

An undiscovered constellation of points in your memory that haven’t quite lined up yet, but him…

All you know is that you have missed him, this incorrigible man, lying beside you.

And all this time, it is Levi Ackerman that holds the frame of the puzzle you have been trying to solve.

Instinctively your thumbs run along his cheekbones, causing his eyes to grow impossibly wider.

Unwise, perhaps, but the softened motion brings you comfort unlike anything else, tethering bits and pieces together in the mind by touch alone.

Bits and pieces, to bigger pictures —

You — a nobody from the Underground City, meant to die by the hands of greed and saved by ones of promise.

You — a formidable fighter, a friend, a colleague, a lover.

You — Lieutenant James, member of the Special Operations squad in the Survey Corps.

Maybe you don’t have the whole story yet, but whoever she is… whoever you are…

She’s supposed to be right here.

Levi’s eyes flutter over your face as if to search for injury or damage, but he doesn’t remove his arms from your body. The captain continues to cradle you as if you'll disappear, dissolve, into the mist that swallows your very waking daydreams.

So you lean closer, murmuring just under your breath with pure wonder.

Recognition.

“I know you.”

‘You know me.’

You recall standing right in front of him months ago, begging in a stable.

Those fateful few months before you really knew how close you were to the truth.

'You know me, but you won’t help me. Why?’

That doubt on his face, deeply ingrained in curbed expectations.

It's a memory you haven’t been able to shake, not since you awoke from the hospital.

Now it twists into something much darker.

‘Because you finally have an out.’

Profound sadness infects your stomach when one jagged edge aligns with another.

The memory, fresh as morning dew on a weed, sprouts before your very eyes.

Yes, you do know him.

Yes, he wouldn’t help you.

Because you’ve been down this road before.

But not like this.

Not wrapped up like two star crossed lovers.

(That’s why you hate me.)

— suddenly your back meets the ground.

A pair of hands abruptly push you, knocking you down to the forest floor with a whoosh of a small oof from your lungs.

Your eyes connect with the bright blue sky, the twinkling of green leaves, the expanse of a bird's wing flying high above.

I know this place.

Why can't you say it out loud?

In a hasty cloud of dust, Levi's boots keep up dirt as he scrambles off of you.

To steady himself, his pale palm presses to the tree trunk. He heaves once, twice, before exhaling fully.

Breath finally returns to his body. What once was pale now has color.

When you eventually turn your gaze to him, he glares directly at you, but it isn’t cruel.

Feral, maybe, and diluted in his own confusion, but not cruel.

(You’d never witnessed someone so beautiful in your life.)

In a new light, you finally see him — a mirror image of two worlds, old and new. Of what your body misses to its very core. Of what your mind wants to remember, to know as intimately as it once did.

Slowly you roll to your belly and push up with your arms. You draw up on one knee, your hand instinctively raising to graze your neck.

There.

The silver pendant, tiny and profound, remains intact. 

The fall didn’t destroy it.

Immense relief floods your system, and your fingers cradle it like a lifeline.

'You don’t own anything. Now you do.'

That melodic baritone guides your ghost of a hand, adhering one more piece to the puzzle.

A fuller frame.

All you want to do is run to him, speak to him, hear his voice, but all you can do is watch as he cycles through the motions of getting his shit together.

Struggling through stages of anger, betrayal, relief, and longing — 

Before addressing you as Captain Levi would.

Because he doesn’t know.

He didn’t hear.

(You didn't say.)

“Are you out of your mind?”

An ironic question, all things considered. 

Your lips part to answer, but his finger raises to warn against that judgment.

A curtain of dark fringe hangs over his eyes, shoulders heaving.

“Direct insubordination against your superior,” he spits, but the edge to his voice is frayed.

He’s barely hanging on by mere threads. You want to knit them back together so badly.

“And endangering the entire squad–”

“Levi—"

“Oluo would have been fine, but you? You weren’t ready.”

Standing on both feet now, you ignore the dirt and debris on your white uniform and take a step forward in earnest. 

“Levi, if you would just—”

“I didn’t ask you to speak, James.”

His bark is as cold as ice, causing you to stop your pleas right in their tracks.

Your own wide eyes stare at him as he reprimands you, seemingly unhinged by what has transpired.

Your mouth shuts into a thin line, willing yourself to hear him out.

To hear him.

Piece by piece, the image fills—

“Commander Erwin was wrong to put you back in the Scouts," Levi growls. It’s spoken as if to convince himself of that very truth. “Abandoning your horse, defying my orders, acting without any regard for your fellow squad mates—”

He seethes, a flicker of rage fluttering across his face.

“—the recklessness of your actions could have cost not only your life, but the lives of my squad.”

“Our squad,” you correct boldly without realizing you’ve said the words out loud.

Wrong answer. His anger only grows.

“My,” he corrects viciously, “squad. You are a—”

“—Lieutenant, which is practically the same rank as you,” you blurt with your own anger, the adrenaline flushed through your veins as newfound familiarity seeps into your veins. "The titles don't mean anything. It's just shit made up for people like us."

“Excuse me?” he growls, and you don’t let up.

“And I know Commander Erwin has always favored you more, but you only pull ahead of me by two goddamn months in the Scout Regiment,” you desperately rasp, the excitement too great, “so shut the hell up and listen to me, Levi Ackerman, because I know you.”

Exhaling your frustrations in heavy heaps, you refuse to cower.

There is no reason to fear this man. There never was.

"I know you," you repeat, defeated.

As if you've confessed at the foot of his altar.

Levi, despite all of his anger, turns his chin sideways with a growing bewilderment. 

Now that you speak, you can see the dots connecting behind his very eyes. 

All you can do is hope — all you have is hope.

When he doesn't say anything, you step forward and continue.

"This whole time. This entire time you've tried... you tried to shut me out because you knew that if you did, I'd walk away."

"What?" Finally, he speaks, but his voice drops with caution.

"You said you wouldn't shut me out."

"And I didn't."

"But you wanted to give me an out, right?" you remind. "That's what you told me the day in the stables at the cadet camp."

His teeth grit. "I told you—"

"That day, you agreed to give me a second chance, but you hoped I'd get too scared in the forest and run the other way. Except I've seen things and—"

That grit dies instantly. "Wait, seen things?"

"Yes, I've seen pieces, Levi," you admit. "Pieces."

"Of—?"

"Us. Of my life." Your fire dies. "Of our life."

His jaw clenches so hard that his teeth could shatter.

Your shoulders drop, defenseless. Your hand touches the back of your head, trying to feel for where you might have hit it on the ground back then.

"You ran from me in that hospital in Trost when I woke up. You saw I couldn't remember you right away, so you thought..."

A small laugh of relief exits your mouth before you can stop it.

There are so many black spots in your mind's eye, but…

His face paves the way.

Four hearts, staring up at a skyless night; now only two remain.

"Damn it, you really thought I would never remember you when you were my entire life."

Falling.

All you’ve ever done is fall.

On your back, as a child in those fighting rings in the Underground City.

On your side, struggling to learn the inner workings of stolen ODM gear while a rambunctious boy with ash-blonde hair laughs to the sky.

On your front, when two strong arms pulled you on top of him, lips crashed to yours.

Yet Levi always held out his hand and picked you up.

Now his fists are translucent, tight at his sides, as your eyes meet.

“And so you pushed me around in hopes that I'd leave you here," you conclude sadly, "all while you blamed yourself for the rest of your days for my mistake — right?”

It’s as if you’ve confessed you’re a titan in the flesh.

Levi staggers back, the clink of his ODM gear rattling as he moves.

His eyes flutter all over your face, studying, searching—

“What the hell are you saying?” the captain croaks, unlike himself.

He stares, clearly waiting for the final blow, like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hand.

Oluo and Petra are somewhere.

And wherever they are means Gunther and Eld are likely not far behind.

They’ll approach at any moment to regroup with the Captain.

But you need him to understand—

Levi's jaws clenches again; an overwhelming flurry of emotion settling on his tongue.

He looks two seconds away from detonating.

"What did you remember?" his voice cracks, the facade shattering. "Just say it, damn it, what the fuck did you remem—"

“James!”

The panicked voice of Oluo shouts from the sky.

Petra follows not long after, attaching to the base of the tree trunks to softly find a landing on her feet.

The rest of the squad follow suit, eyes wide.

“Whoa, are you alright?” Oluo repeats, rushing forward. “The hell just happened out there?”

“Her gear got caught,” Petra replies with equal urgency. “I saw it when Captain Levi took off after you two.”

“Her gear?!” Oluo yelps.

The two of them rush over while their hands reach out, swiping your emerald cloak up and away.

They duck their attention to the gear to assess the damage.

The ODM canisters don’t look particularly busted, but the wire dangles helplessly without its spike.

You note just how nervous everyone looks.

Because everyone knows the story, you realize deep in your belly.

The story where a member of the Levi Squad fought titans and got her gear stuck, resulting in a catastrophic head injury where her memories were no more.

The one where they nearly lost one of their elite, only to result in that woman becoming a completely blank slate.

Someone that they'll never get back.

Except she's screaming in your head, slamming against your skull.

I'm here! I'm here, don't you see? I'm still here!

Eld and Gunther quickly descend next, their feet pattering with the quickness towards where you stand.

The squad surrounds you with a million questions, checking your head should there be damage.

Petra even places a gentle hand on your heart, but it’s hammering.

Alive.

Levi says nothing, does nothing; his chin ducks to his emerald collar, allowing his squad to have their time.

“You scared the shit out of us,” Gunther admits with a sigh.

“The hell were you thinking?” Eld adds.

You sheepishly shake your head, eyes still attached to Levi. “I-I wasn’t—”

“I had it, James,” Oluo counters, cutting you off. “I had that titan. You didn’t need to go back for me and almost risk your damn life.”

“Hate to say it, but I agree with Oluo,” Petra replies with a soft sigh, before pulling you in for a small hug. Your arms remain lamely at your sides. “You didn't need to prove you were badass to us, alright? We know." She lets go. "How did you cut yourself loose?”

“She didn’t.”

Levi’s voice breaks through, stopping everyone in their tracks.

He turns on a heel away from the squad, head remaining in a bow, and walks in the direction they'd arrived from.

“I caught her.”

You note the changes in expressions on the rest of the squad's faces.

Recognition smooths over their tired lines, like the significance isn’t lost on them.

Suddenly they duck their chins, too, as if ashamed for gossiping.

Only you remain with your head up, eyes square on the captain.

He does not look your way.

“Outing’s over. We’ll just have to break Four Eyes’ heart and tell them we didn’t capture any of those bastards today.”

“But we didn’t even make it halfway through,” Eld starts, turning his boot towards the captain with surprise. “We can go further.”

"Wait, we managed to clear the forest?" you ask without thinking, causing Eld and Oluo to glance your way.

Oluo’s eyebrows slide high to his hairline.

Eld’s narrow to a point.

“It… was,” Eld slowly, carefully, explains, “but the mission you — the one that you — Wait.”

"People still made it to the other side after I fell?" you exhale.

They made it.

The Scouts managed to push to the end of the forest.

The mission wasn't all for nothing.

A flurry of confused relief floods your system, yet the squad looks at you with pure confusion.

“...none of us told her about the forest debrief from last year yet, did we?” Oluo inquires, pointing to Petra. “Hey, did you snitch?”

“Huh? Snitch?!” Petra yelps. “What the hell would I snitch about? It’s not like it's a secret to anyone here what went down.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t make it long enough to see the end of it,” Gunther replies, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger. “And we all agreed not to bring up said mission when she woke up until she was cleared by that doctor guy she saved.”

“Doctor?” you blurt under your breath, blinking. "That I...?"

That you saved…

Albeit foggy, you remember the other team that fateful day.

Miro squad. 

There were so many names, so much chaos…

You struggle to remember the finer details, but there was someone named Rini.

An older man — or did he just look weatherworn from war?

Was it the same man from Trost?

“Wait. James.” Petra rounds you, searching your face with budding excitement. “Do you remember the last mission you were on? Is that why you’re—”

“I said the outing’s over.”

Levi's command bites off her question, and Petra falters.

“I already have one shithead disobeying instructions. Is this going to become a trend?”

The squad goes silent, turning to their captain.

“Get the damn horses back,” the captain growls. “We’ll reconvene as a group back at headquarters. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” they all respond in unison.

One after the other, they offer a look of condolences to you before ascending to the skies.

Leaving Levi and yourself to remain.

In the back of your mind, you remember the odds.

Forty to eighty.

The screams of terror.

The urgency to fly through the trees.

A formation of horses…

A corner of the puzzle is complete.

Help me.

Why won’t you help me?

“Levi?” you start, and you see his face flinch at your tone. “Can we talk?”

“Not here,” he replies curtly.

“But—”

“I said not here,” he grunts, turning his chin to regard you over his shoulder. “I’m not doing this here.”

When his eyes meet yours, they soften.

Apologetic.

As if he’s teetering on the brink of giving up completely.

“Go back to your quarters,” he urges. “Clear your head. Figure out if…”

Did his voice just crack again?

You can’t help but gravitate towards his orbit, boots gently stepping closer.

“...figure out if you mean it,” he finishes, stronger now. “If you really do remember — any of this. We'll reconvene and debrief back at headquarters, but I told you: I'm not feeding you our memories. If you think you know me, then say it with your whole damn chest and hold nothing back."

His chin drops, his black fringe falling over his eyes.

You can't see what he's thinking, how he's feeling, but the way his voice turns to a whisper breaks your heart.

"I can’t keep up with these false hopes anymore.”

The necklace on your sternum burns.

Although you have a million questions, a thousand apologies, a dozen pleas, and very few certainties, you say one thing in return.

"Yes, sir."

You both stand in silence, awaiting the horses.

He stares at the ground.

You continue staring at him.

I know you.

You're the only certainty I have.

Once the rest of the squad arrives, you mount your horse and keep formation.

The sun bursts free.

There are no more trees clouding your vision.

Ahead there is an expanse of grass, reclaimed by time.

(A new start.)

Levi Squad returns to headquarters without a casualty in tow.

.

[calpicowater]

Day 14/366: January 14th 2024 | Xiaolongkan with Vicky 🌶️

Me eating hot pot, what a surprise. Our first hang out of the year! I love XLK so much. It truly is my favourite restaurant and meal ever. We ordered medium spicy pot with chicken feet, tripe, beef, potato noodles, sweet potato noodles, and shrimp paste. I also ate a lot of side dish radish and about 100 melons from the sauce bar. Managed to get us 20% off so yay!

[thefoxandfern]

Give It Time

I’m excited that the weather is cool enough to wear pants again. As much as I love Summer activities, I don’t love being restricted to shorts and dresses to stay comfortable. I’m also looking forward to adding more layers to my looks as the temperatures drop even further. As for this outfit I chose a few of my old and new favorites, including this hat. Outfit Details: Top: Urban Outfitters /…

[nelapanela94]

“I like you like you, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

You want to reach out to him, hold him, but you’re not sure if it is the right thing to do.

“I want to be by your side. Always,” you whisper, seeing the little boy inside of him that just wants to be loved. Not beaten black and blue. Not being called hero; not being called humanity’s strongest soldier. He looks at you with an expression that is completely unguarded.

You don’t overthink this time. For once you’re brave, all the love you amassed for years drives you to him, in a fleeting touch of lips. The deities listened to your prayers, he’s alive, safe and doesn’t have to brandish a sword anymore. You have the rest of your boring lives to draft the story you yearn for.

Only if he’s willing to.

You touch his cheek, brushing the tears away. The room is cold, even after the nurse had closed the window before leaving. He lets his face be held and you can feel him melt into you. Before you know it, he’s in your arms, his head now buried in the space between your shoulder and chest, your fingers lost in the silky ends of his hair.

“When you see me what do you see, y/n?” His voice is hoarse in pain. You feel his trembling, the hissing of his every fiber. His tears kiss your skin through the weave of your shirt.

“A scared little boy, a brave soldier, the most handsome man.”

A chuckle ripples down his chest, wreaking havoc on his ribcage.

“I will never be that man again, y/n.” He says in a brittle murmur. “With this body I will never be able to protect you." He pauses, moistening his chapped lips. "You’re free now to do whatever you want.”

“And I want to be with you.” You press a kiss on his cheek, on the untarnished skin.

“Save the pity.”

You pull away and look at his broken eyes through the bandages. “It’s not pity what ties me to you. I love you, Levi.”

“But-“ He gazes down, misty eyed, recalling the day Kenny walked away for not being strong enough. Now he can’t even wipe his ass without help.

Fuck.

Embarrassment, shame, chagrin consume him.

A useless, bedridden drop of a man.

You don’t deserve this.

You’re still young, pretty, and wild. And no matter how badly he craves a life with you, he can’t be selfish.

With a quivering iris, he looks at you in the eye, at the brink of falling apart. “Please go, y/n.” He takes a deep breath, waits two seconds, detaching, and snuggles under the white sheets.

Beads of tears glisten on your eyelashes. “Is that what you want?” Your voice snaps like dry leather.

But he can’t meet your eyes and answer you because he cannot lie to your face.

The chair legs screech, you grab your purse; he can hear the keys clanking about. Your footsteps dwindle, the doorknob turns. A black hole opens in the middle of his chest, engulfing it all.

You wait, beg silently for him to stop you. But the further you go, more and more cracks appear, rupturing the future you dreamed of.

He loves you too, and has no idea what to do about it.

[jjkeremika]

AoT men Vices

description: sex, drugs, cigarettes, and, well, you.

pairing: eren, armin, zeke, levi, reiner, jean (x fem!reader)

disclaimer/warning(s)?: stoner eren; oral(fem receiving); drinker zeke; groping; slutty levi; penetration; smoker reiner; rope play; gambler armin; fingering; jealous jean; choking; nsfwwwww

eren

• always high on weed/dabs/carts/edibles (doesn’t matter)

• his pale skin and green irises only accentuated the faint red tinge in the whites of his eyes, like a light blood splatter on american money

• hes tormented!! cut him a little slack. its not his fault his dad gave him the worst type ii bipolar disorder and narcissistic personality disorder a clinician’s ever seen

• gets horrendously horny when he’s high around you, starts touching and holding and kissing and biting you to get and keep your attention

• chews on his fingernails, jitters his legs, and licks and bites his lips as he stares at you, as he feels himself getting harder and harder at the thought of you getting wetter and wetter

• whines about how his throat is dry and he needs to taste you, to drink the liquid sliding out of you, until his tongue and jaw were cramping and his mouth was sore

• will pull you into his lap, gnaw on your shoulder and the lobe of your ear as his hands creep down your abdomen towards the source of the wet stain forming on his lap

• his voice lowers an octave as he begs to touch and taste you, as he asks if his hands and lips inching closer to your crotch is allowed and okay because he so desperately craves your approval

• “oh, baby, please, baby, only you can fix my dry mouth with your wet, pretty fucking pussy, god, baby, please, i’m so thirsty”

• moans so fucking loud when you finally give in and let him lick your clit, his fingers eagerly digging into your thighs as he pulls you so, so much closer, until there’s no air between his mouth and your skin

• devolves into demanding that you ride his face, hop and slide on his mouth with your shiny thick thighs with absolutely no hesitation, no regard for his lungs

zeke

• sad king who drinks most nights

• a gin and tonic or scotch on the rocks kind of man. likes the burn at the back of his throat on the way down

• confessed a similar reason to why he swims; liking the burning ache in his lungs when he holds his breath under the water. reminds him he’s alive

• has a poor relationship with his parents and half-brother. wants and sometimes tries to reconcile but he’s not really a people-person and he struggles to forgive

• divulges to you about his neglected dreams and pile of regrets, over analyzes situations until it all feels hopeless and meaningless

• holds you closer and tighter, at first because he’s fighting tears but then because he’s overcome with pure devotion because you’re here, with him, comforting him, every time

• and he’s certain you have so many other places you could be and more interesting people you can be with and yet you’re holding him too

• tells you that you mean the world to him, that he’s hopeless without you, that you give him something to smile and dream about, that he’d be nothing without you

• he’ll hold your wrists behind your back with one large hand and hold your neck with the other, prying your lips apart and re-introducing your tongues to each other, like he does every other night

• his hands roam as you kiss, his fingernails lightly tracing the goosebumps on your skin to the tail of your spine, the other hand following the curves of your ribcage to where your breast naturally interrupted

• “oh, i love your body, i live to please you, i live for you,” he’ll murmur for the thousandth time against your tongue as his long fingers clasp around your fleshy boob, squeezing with a fearful hold that you’ll pull away and leave him like everyone else

levi

• sex. with you. a lot.

• he doesn’t talk about his feelings or explain his emotions. there are no conversations about his past and his future. they all start one sided, and end in sex

• it’s a cop out. he knows it, you know it, but it’s so fucking good you don’t really care

• every time you try to ask about his family, his friends, his career, or even if he thinks there’s a future between you two, he’s avoiding the question and shoving his tongue down your throat

• he keeps his hand around your neck as he kisses you insistently, as he tries to kiss you until you’re dizzy and you forgot that he was trying to distract you in the first place

• gets needy and wanting, turning you around, stripping you, and bending you over before you could say a word

• impatient and selfish. he drops some lube into his palm and slicks his own cock up, shoving two or three fingers in you for short, to-be-desired thrusts before he’s gasping over you and inching the tip to your exposed muscles

• he chortles airily at the hearty moan you release once he presses inside, the euphoria encompassing his dick and shipping through his bloodstream

• he practically bends you in half, arranging you so he’s pounding into your pussy with your ass presented to his face and your own face shoved into a pillow, mascara and eyeshadow staining into the sheets at the growing desirable ache in your abdomen

• smacks your ass until his handprint is visible as he relentlessly shoves himself inside you, as he gives you every inch of muscle control and strength he has

reiner

• chronic cigarette smoker

• built balcony and patio attachments to your house so he could easily step outside

• you watched him build them shirtless and sweaty, a lighter tucked loosely in his low cut pant pockets and a cigarette lightly held behind his ear

• tries his best to cover the sour tobacco smell with rustic vanilla or mahogany colognes. up for debate when it worked, but the mix of scents really could be oddly pleasant sometimes

• he’s haunted by regrets he won’t even tell you about. doesn’t want to burden you, or rather burden himself with the knowledge that then you’d know too, and there really would be no running away

• you could see them as shadows behind his glassy eyes, always lingering when the lights were on and engulfing him in the dark

• you took it upon yourself to lift his moods, to break him free from the thought patterns that kept him chained to his lot in life

• brought the metaphor to life and bought handcuffs and rope, tied and locked his ankles and wrists to the bedposts, his vulnerability on full display

• his whole body was blushed pink as you gingerly caressed him, crawled up and down his rigid muscular body and ran your sharp fingernails and tongue down his center

• you reminded him he was chained down when he abruptly reached up and out for you, his wrists aggressively slapping back against the mattress or his legs threatening to break the post with fast squirms

• like a wolf chasing after a rabbit, reiner huffed and drooled over you and the sexy shapes you made with your hips as you wiggled all over him, grinded against him and relished in the whines and begs to be released from his holds and touch you

armin

• first got into gambling when eren convinced him to go to a casino for his 21st birthday

• and while the huge crowds and loud noises and overstimulating lights originally raised his anxiety, the adrenaline and excitement of playing and winning won out

• tried to quit a few times but always found his way back to gambling and betting

• card game aficionado. loves the tactile nature of it, always plays with the corners of the cards with his fingertips. sometimes you catch him shuffling and playing cards in his free time at home

• poker is easily his favorite, especially because he can read people like a book. you could never lie to or hide from him

• refuses to say it’s an addiction. it’s more of an intricate hobby, or a challenge he has to bet his way out of

• the worst part is he’s actually pretty good at it and wins more than seventy percent of the time. but when he loses, he loses and he obsesses over it for days

• during good streaks he buys you expensive knickknacks and trinkets and blankets and jewelry, takes you out to dinner more frequently

• feels extra confident when he’s on a hot winning streak, buying you lingerie and telling you to wear it, to turn it into a show for him in the bedroom with him sat on the bed and the lights on

• his hot hands and cold metal rings needily grasp at your sides, his wet tongue caressing the lacy line where the lingerie met your cleavage

• he’ll get impatient, too turned on with your dance to contain himself so he’ll pull you onto his hard erection and bite the nape of your neck to hold you in place

• he’ll stand up and turn you over, hover over you as the mattress shapes to your curves and armin’s hands follow

• loves fingering you with three to four fingers, his eyes doubling in size as he watches your muscles stretch and encompass the appendages. has to clutch the base of his dick like a cock ring to prevent himself from cumming at the site and at the warm, blankety feeling

• sometimes likes to be a bit cheeky and not take his rings off, letting the rings escape inside your opening and feeling it slide toughly against his skin in contrast to your so soft, so sensitive, so inviting body

• the cool metal of his rings was always enticing, and you always gasped heartily and physically thrived at the hard cold material inside

• “oh, shit, baby, i think my ring came off inside you,” he tells you calmly with a wide premeditated smirk, his fingers going limp inside you, “let me just get it out real quick”

• he’ll poke and prod and fold his fingers against your tissue as the ring moves loosely inside you, as you feel yourself building to an inescapable high with armin’s cheeky smirk between your legs as the ring just so happens to keep slipping from his grasp

jean

• jealous jeanyyyyyy

• glares at other men as they talk to you, even if it’s something as innocent as asking for directions or for a petition signature

• usually steps between you and the offending man, escalates the situation beyond necessity by antagonizing the man and firmly demanding an apology for wasting your time

• his blood just boils like hot water in a kettle when he sees you with someone else, someone that’s not him but it should be

• has issues sharing, so there was no way in hell you were slipping out of his attention, and he’s arrogantly insecure, to the excess point that you should only see and talk to him. he’s all you should need right?

• when he saw you calmly talking to eren he flipped his lid, said fuck it to the world and interrupted the conversation

• brings you to the nearest private (i.e., empty and lockable) room and pushes you against the wall or door, his hand firmly locking around your neck

• his hands were so large your whole neck was covered. his fingers were so long the tips touched at the back. his grip was present and firm, and maybe a bit threatening

• “do i speak another language to you? am i on another fucking planet so far you can’t even hear me?”

• he’ll slap the wall next to your ear with his open palm, smirk as you jump from surprise at the sudden outburst

• he leans closer to your ear, the pressure of his hand against your windpipe slightly increasing, his wet hot tongue flicking against your sensitive exposed ear

• “do i need to teach you another lesson?” another light squeeze. “on how to behave?”

[leviheichouwu]

think of me fondly (levi x reader)

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Gender-neutral!Reader Summary: Levi's having trouble adjusting to his missing fingers for a certain task. You offer him a hand. (Literally.)

Also posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51864445

Levi’s apartment is completely dark when you let yourself in. You can’t hear anything from his bedroom and no light is peeking out from under the door, but Levi doesn’t nap often, so you knock gently before opening the door and stepping in. “Levi?”

Levi, eyes squeezed tightly shut and hand moving quickly under his blankets, doesn’t notice your quiet voice or entry.

Holy shit.

A mouthwatering flush has spread down his neck to his bare chest, and some of his dark hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. Though you look away after a few frozen seconds, the image is seared into your brain. Warmth coils low in your belly.

What do you do? If you shut the door and knock louder, you won’t be able to pretend you hadn’t seen anything once you make eye contact with him. You’re a terrible actor. But that would be better than him seeing you standing there like a pervert, face averted but blushing furiously.

With the arousal slowing your thought process, you decide too late. Levi’s eyes flicker open, and in your periphery, his whole body freezes.

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for a few heartbeats.

Your tongue feels abnormally clumsy as you rush to apologize. “Levi, I’m so sorry, I was careless and didn’t wait before opening the door and I can just go, I’ve been intruding so often—”

“Oi.”

You peek up from under your lashes at him. He’s glaring at his hands.

“Don’t you dare disappear on me. I can’t—I knew you were coming, but I lost track of time. Can’t get off with these shitty injuries.”

“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to you. Though you’re plenty open with each other, the two of you don’t talk about sex or romance; he doesn’t seem like the type to be interested in anyone, so you’ve always avoided the topic in fear of heartbreak.

You mean to tease him to restore your usual dynamic as friends, but what comes out of your mouth instead is mortifying. “Would you want any help with that?”

What the absolute fuck was that?

He gapes at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No,” you grimace. You definitely don’t want to make your feelings known, but he’s in an incredibly vulnerable position, and you prioritize his feelings over your own pride, so: “I’m being serious. I like you a lot.”

Levi’s quiet for a moment, then smiles faintly. “Come here, then.”

Giddy disbelief bubbles up in you, and you can’t dispel the huge grin on your face as you hop onto the bed. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly reach up to cradle his jaw and lean in. Your eyes flutter shut, and your lips meet so gently it makes your heart ache.

“Does this mean you like me too?” you murmur.

Levi nods solemnly.

In response, you kiss him again. You tentatively run the tip of your tongue against his bottom lip, and he releases a quiet, breathy moan. It emboldens you to lick in further, past his soft lips to touch his tongue. The two of you sigh simultaneously, and you shift closer to him. His body heat is delicious, as is his mouth. You can’t get enough. Desperation smolders in your chest, and Levi must feel similarly, because he caresses your hip, then grasps it to pull you closer. Your hand lands on his chest to balance yourself, so you can feel his heart slam against his ribcage. It fills you with a gooey warmth, and you smile against his lips.

At the feeling of your smile, Levi whines and thrusts his hips up minutely. You rest your weight against Levi, sliding your hand down his perfect chest and flat stomach before hovering your fingers over his cock.

Levi tilts his head back and pants, eyes heavy-lidded. “Touch me,” he pleads.

You shove down the covers and look down both your bodies to watch your fingers gently wrap around his shaft. He gasps and arches up.

You squeeze, and he groans. You drag a finger through his slit, gathering up pre-come, and watch him as you slip your finger into your mouth to taste. Levi makes a small noise at the back of his throat and impatiently tugs at your wrist.

Obligingly, you lick your palm and move your hand back down. You spread the pre-come that’s been steadily leaking from his slit to lubricate a firm stroke from base to tip, and he moans lowly at the contact. You begin to pick up your pace, relishing the silky feel of him. An unbearable heat is gathering in your core as you pant into each other’s mouths.

It feels like only a minute has passed when he tenses up and pushes you back.

“Wait,” he says, voice strained. “I’m already close.”

You press your thighs together. “God, that's hot,” you breathe. “Can I…?” You move down the bed. From here you notice Levi’s chest rise and fall more rapidly. His pupils are blown as you hold his cock to your lips, the steel blue of his irises barely visible.

“God, yes.”

You circle your fingers around the base of his cock and lave at the head, admiring how it glistens in the dim light coming from the window.

“Fuck,” Levi moans.

You take him into your mouth until he touches your throat, bob your head once, twice, and—

“Shit! Wait!”

You look up at him and suck, not slowing down.

“Oi!” Levi tugs at your hair desperately. “I’m going to—”

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases a guttural groan and curls into himself. His cock pulses against your tongue and bitter warmth spills into your mouth. Levi shakes and gasps as he comes apart, gripping your hair. You watch the pleasure contort those beautiful features before his face smooths out and he falls back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

Once he catches his breath and looks down at you, you swallow. He flops his head back and groans, hiding his red face in his arm. Then, something seems to occur to him, and he sits up to glare at you.

“Don’t make fun of me for how fast that was. It’s been a while.”

“It was hot!” you protest.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to come in your mouth. Disgusting,” he says.

It certainly doesn’t look like he’s disgusted. In fact, he looks rather pleased.

You lie down next to him, replacing the covers, and kiss his cheek. It turns a lovely pink at the affection. Levi turns his back to you and shuffles backward and, following his cue, you turn onto your side as well and wrap an arm around him. You press your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder and inhale. Contentment settles in your bones.

“That actually was kind of embarrassing for you. Also, you couldn’t have used your other hand or something?”

“You think I haven’t tried? Just shut up and cuddle me, asshole.”

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Hit and Run [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (Panic! at the Disco) Center (@hotch-girl) Right (@figdays)

Prompt: The BAU reader gets in a hit-and-run accident on the way to work, and Aaron is forced to confront his growing feelings for her. Those feelings are finally shared as the reader nearly faints on a case and Aaron is there to catch her before she falls. 

Pairing: Hotch x fem reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Hurt/Comfort/fluff 

Word Count: 13.5K 

Content Warnings: Car accident (hit and run [reader]) cuts and bruises, second-degree burns on the legs and feet (and healing of those burns), hospitals, canon typical violence (mention of poisoning and strangulation), fainting (reader) language. 

A/N: Good evening, loves! I’m so happy that this is finally finished. It turned out much longer than I had planned. But somehow I’m not surprised. There isn’t a ton of action in this story, it’s just a lot of emotional build-up that I hope pays off in the end. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great rest of your week! Love Levi ❤️

P.S. This is not as edited as it can be. I'll do that tomorrow.

List with all stories 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite song 

_y/h/l_ = your hair length 

_y/f/f/w_ = your favorite face wash 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

_y/f/f_ = your favorite fruit 

_y/b/f_ = your best friend 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite TV show. 

_y/n_ woke to the lack of oxygen. Her vision was black, and she couldn’t breathe. _y/n_ tried to move, and that was her second mistake. As she tried to shift in what was a very uncomfortable, confined space her body protested. It was also hot, uncomfortably hot. The pain and the heat dragged a ragged breath from _y/n_. That also hurt, her ribs aching against the movement of her lungs expanding in her ribcage. _y/n_’s eyes open and the world swam in front of her. There was something white in her lap. That was all she could make out, as she blinked and saw spots. The heat on her lower legs was becoming unbearable. She groaned in pain. Why was everything hurting? What was going on? She had just been driving to work like every other day for the last two years after joining the bureau. _y/n_’s mind moved back to the early morning. 

She had woken at 5:00 a.m. as normal to an alarm that she was now regretting horribly. _y/n_ could feel the approaching time change, and she knew that it would be even harder to adjust to the shorter days and possibly leave the office in darkness instead of the warmth of the dripping orange five o'clock sun. _y/n_ had set _y/f/s_ as her new alarm. Now that she had woken to it for over a week, _y/n_ realized that she might be ruining her favorite song for herself. _y/n_ had rolled over in bed and for one second, wished she was back in college when the worst thing about an alarm had been the prospect of a dreadful 8:00 a.m. algebra class. In the darkness of her room, _y/n_ finally hit stop on the alarm and got out from under the warm covers of her bed. Once her feet were on the wood floor of her bedroom, _y/n_’s natural routine kicked in. _y/n_ moved to the bathroom and turned on the light by the sink. She had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. _y/n_ pulled her _y/h/l_ hair away from her face with a fluffy grey headband. She turned the tap to warm and waited a moment for it to heat up. After thirty seconds, _y/n_ leaned down and began raising her face with the warm water. After her face was wetted, she pumped a small bit of _y/f/fw_ into her palm and began applying and lathering it over her skin. Once _y/n_ was satisfied with the coverage, she rinsed it off completely. Lastly, she turned the knob on the sink to cold and rinsed her face once more. The cold water always had the wanted effect; finally getting her tired brain to wake up. _y/n_ padded into the kitchen and started a cup of coffee before moving back to the bedroom to change. She needed to do laundry but was avoiding it -- putting it off until the weekend. Because of this, her options were scant. She decided on a pair of loser-fitting black pants with a simple white grid pattern. She had picked them up at a thrift shop two weekends ago and thought they were a good find. _y/n_ then went to her closet and picked out a _y/f/c_ turtleneck shirt. She added a grey scarf and pulled out some thick socks and her well-worn Doc. Martins. Once the outfit and boots were on, _y/n_ moved back to the kitchen. She doctored the coffee to her liking and opened the fridge. She pulled out a yogurt cup and a piece of _y/f/f_  from the fridge. She leaned against the counter as she dipped the spoon into the yogurt. She needed to eat quickly as morning traffic was going to be hell on the way to work. It had rained the night before and the temperatures had dropped below freezing which meant slick, icy roads. After burning her tongue on the hot coffee and finishing breakfast, _y/n_ made it out to her car. She didn’t forget to grab her go bag or sidearm from its gun safe, as she locked the door behind her. 

Coming back to herself, the heat on her legs was really starting to hurt and whatever adrenaline had stopped the real pain from kicking in was quickly ebbing away. _y/n_’s eyes cleared, and she came fully to her senses. She let out a cry. The deflated airbag was resting on her lap with fragments of tempered glass from the passenger side door and windshield. _y/n_ could distinctly hear her breathing. _y/n_’s left hand seemed to be pinned between her seat and the plastic padding of the interior of the car. She tried to pull the appendage free but it was struck. _y/n_ could move her fingers at least which was a good sign. _y/n_ was sure there was some sort of fire happening near her feet and legs, and she used her right hand to clumsily push back the airbag. There was black smoke filling the cab now and there was a tongue of flame dancing near her ankles. She tried her best to pull her feet up as she coughed on the noxious fumes. The situation was becoming dire. _y/n_ started to panic as her eyes welled from the smoke. She tried to undo her seatbelt, but it was stuck. Not thinking clearly with all the pain, she tried to open the driver’s side door, but that too seemed jammed. _y/n_ pulled her turtleneck over her lips and nose and tried to undo the seatbelt again. She didn’t even seem to notice as a group of strangers beat on the unbroken glass of her window to get her attention. 

Emily saw the whole thing. Or almost the whole thing, as she made her way to work. The roads were crowded and people driving were either very defensive or just plain bad given the weather. Emily pulled on the main drive to work and saw _y/n_’s car in front of her. Em had considered tapping her horn to say hello but decided against it. They would be together in the office in about ten minutes anyway. As they moved down the road toward the intersection that led to the FBI field office, a car merged into the lane in front of Emily, dangerously. At this, she did honk her horn once and thought, ‘Jerk,’ as the sedan slightly blocked her view of _y/n_’s car. The light, which was notoriously fast, turned green and Emily inched forward. The light was turning yellow as Prentiss approached the intersection, and _y/n_ was halfway through the four-lane street with her blinker on to turn left. There was no way that _y/n_ could see the truck coming from the other side of the intersection. The large vehicle was speeding down the slippery road and ran straight passed the red light and into _y/n_’s car. Emily couldn’t tear her eyes away as the metal collided. Prentiss watched as _y/n_’s body was violently pushed to the side. The sound of the metal crunching and glass breaking had Emily’s nerves standing on end. _y/n_’s car and the truck slid a foot to the edge of the highway curb. There was a moment of silence as if Emily were waiting for something else to happen. The truck didn’t seem that damaged apart from a large dent to the hood, and it roared back to life loudly. The tires squealed against the ice as it backed up and then, very quickly sped down the street. Em memorized the plate number and then pulled forward into the intersection. Prentiss sent up a silent prayer that everyone else on the road had stopped and that another car hadn’t been involved in the crash. Em flicked on her hazards and jumped out of her car. Two other vehicles had done the same thing as her and a large man was already at the door of _y/n_’s car trying to open and free the agent trapped inside. Then there was a petite woman with her phone to her ear speaking to 9-1-1. Em overheard the woman say, “No, we’re trying to get her out of the car now. She’s moving around in there. Yes, yes. It’s the intersection of Neville Road and Barnett Avenue. Because Emily was assured the paramedics were on their way, she moved toward the heavily dented call. She called a number one on speed dial as she got to the wreck. 

Aaron had gotten to the office early. When didn’t he? He was normally the first one in and the last one out. No matter how he cut it, either as he found his job important, or that he hardly had a life outside of work -- apart from Jack -- at least his extended hours at the bureau kept him from his empty apartment. When he was there, and Hailey had Jack during the week, it felt all too still. All too lifeless for his liking. At least he got to do some of the more bureaucratic brain-rotting mundane paperwork the job entailed from the team. He could often be found late at night in his office filling out the basic forms for his team over and over and over again in his neat blocky handwriting. So far it was only he and Mogan in the office, Derek was moving toward his desk, and Aaron turned to do the same. In half an hour he was going to meet with JJ to see about the next case for the team. Just as he settled into his swivel chair that hurt his back if he sat in it too long, he heard Derek shout his name. There was a distress in its tone. A sharp “Aaron!” that he rarely if ever had heard from Morgan before. He was on his feet and out of his office in an instant. He flew down the stairs. Morgan was already on the move toward the elevators and Hotch jogged to make up the distance and asked as he moved down the hall, “Morgan, what is it?” Derek turned to Aaron and said, “_y/n_ got in a hit and run on Barnett. Emily just called me. She’s already there.” Hearing this made Hotch’s stomach feel like it was suddenly being squeezed by an iron fist. His heart dropped as the worst possible scenarios flicked in front of his mind. Aaron hurriedly asked, “Is she okay? What did Emily say!” The urgency in his voice probably gave away that he was incredibly concerned for his younger agent’s safety. Perhaps more concerned than a boss should be about his employees. Hotch could see that Derek had caught what he was thinking, but he couldn’t fucking care. Not when he was imagining _y/n_ bleeding out, or already dead in front of him. He couldn’t bear it, so he repeated his question. Finally, Morgan snapped back to himself and as the elevator moved to the ground floor, he replied, “Em says she’s awake but trapped in the car and there’s a smoke filling the cab.” Hotch gritted his teeth, as he nodded along. Smoke meant fire, and fire meant possible combustion. Aaron wished the damn elevator moved faster. When they got to the bottom floor, he and Morgan sprinted past Spencer, Rossi, and JJ who were waiting to pass through security. Spencer asked, “What’s going on?” Morgan shouted back, “_y/n_’s hurt.” Derek’s car was the closest to the pair, and they both got in. Derek moved out of the lot as quickly as he could without speeding or getting himself and Hotch in an accident of their own with the roads as they were. When they got closer to the intersection, the cars were backed up down the road. Aaron looked at Morgan and Derek could see the desperation in his colleague's face. Morgan said, “Jump out. I’ll pull over and be there in a minute.” Aaron nodded and moved out into the bitterly cold air. Hotch nearly ate it twice on the slick concrete. He couldn’t care, he’d crawl on his hands and knees to get to _y/n_. Hotch could hear the peal of sirens in the distance. When he got to the scene, there was an assembled crowd. He elbowed his way to the front. He was relieved to see _y/n_ was out of her car. But the crumpled wreck of metal didn’t much calm his mind. _y/n_ had been pulled twenty or so feet away from the damaged vehicle. 

Emily saw Hotch ran, and nearly tumbled, as he got a foot away from _y/n_. Prentiss felt better now that he was here. Em knew that _y/n_ and Hotch had something going on, or at least they both wanted to have something going on. The whole team saw it as a matter of fact. The issue was that neither Aaron nor _y/n_ had caught on. Or if they had, both parties weren’t acting on the feelings between the two of them. Hotch fell to his knees next to Emily. Prentiss was holding _y/n_’s hand. Prentiss sort of handed over _y/n_’s hand to him. Aaron didn’t even think as he took it and held it close in both his hands. Subconsciously, he drew _y/n_’s hand close to his chest, his heart. He was leaning over her, trying to ascertain the damage to her body. Her level of pain. When _y/n_ felt a new set of hands, a familiar set of hands resting around hers, she opened her eyes. Everything was bleary, swimming in front of her. But even with her compromised vision, she knew it was Aaron beside her. His broad shoulder and soft touch were all she needed to know that it was him. _y/n_ thought that she’d know him with less information than that. She believed that she could be blinded and deaf and she’d still know it was him if he walked into her room. _y/n_ tried to turn her head to the side to see his face better, but the man that had ended up dragging her body out of the driver’s side window which Emily had shot out with her sidearm, stopped her movement. There was a painfully loud explosion from _y/n_’s car as it finally combusted. The fire had reached the fuel tank and even though they were far enough away from the car to not be burned, the whole group could feel the heat radiate out from the flaming car. At the noise and heat, Hotch protectively moved his body over _y/n_’s. The loud sound had _y/n_ whimper, and Aaron wasn’t sure he could take hearing _y/n_ like this. Aaron didn’t even realize that the fire trucks, police cruisers, and ambulances had arrived. The sound of their siren was not registering to him, as he only had thoughts for _y/n_. Morgan and the firemen telling the assembled crowd to move back finally brought him back to himself.

Aaron shifted up as two EMTs ran over to them. Hotch reluctantly let go of _y/n_’s hand and moved back to make room for the two men who now had taken his and Prentiss’s places. One of the EMTs pulled out a penlight. _y/n_’s eyes didn’t follow the light. They drifted, and her pupils were dilated. Meanwhile, the other, leaner EMT was looking at _y/n_’s legs. The man had pushed up _y/n_’s pants up to her knees. Aaron looked at the angry red skin on her legs. At some point _y/n’s shoes had been taken off and Hotch noticed there was a small hole in her sock near her big toe. All Aaron seemed to be able to do at the moment was notice small details about _y/n_. Like how her watch face was cracked. How _y/n_’s speech was slurred as the paramedic asked her if she remembered what had happened. It seemed that _y/n_ did, just struggled to get the words out as she said, “Hit ‘an run. Big.” She swallowed painfully and continued, “Truck. Grey green… light.” Aaron suddenly became poignant about Emily being near him again as he felt her gaze linger on him. He turned and looked at Prentiss. Aaron asked, “What happened exactly?” Emily swallowed, as she watched _y/n_ squirm under the hand of the leaner paramedic who was pressing down on her blistering legs. Once Em had composed herself a bit, she said, “Well _y/n_ was one car in front of me. The light turned green. She did everything right, obviously. This guy, I’ve got his plate number and everything was driving a Ford F-350. And it was grey. The guy hit her on the driver's side. He was out of control maybe. He just barreled into her. I couldn’t guess the speed he was going. If the dude had been out of control when he crashed into _y/n_, he most certainly intentionally left without getting out and checking on _y/l/n_.” Hotch nodded and said, “Alright. Well, call Pen about the license plate. She’s sure to be in her office right now. I’m sure she’s called all of us at least twenty times by now. She’ll be relieved to hear from any of us.” Prentiss nodded her assent and moved to get her phone from her back pocket. 

Aaron watched the paramedics move _y/n_ onto a waiting stretcher. As they lifted her up, Hotch turned to the larger man and said, “Can I ride with you to the hospital? Where are you taking her?” The man looked at Aaron intently and said, “Rockingham Memorial. Are you her husband? Partner.” Hotch cleared his throat for a moment, as his heart stuttered in his chest, and said, “I’m her boss. She’s a federal agent.” Aaron flashed his badge at the man, and the EMT took a second to look at the badge and Hotch over once. The EMT nodded and said “Alright. We’re going to load her in and then you can sit in the bench seat.” Hotch nodded as the seasoned medical professionals easily transported, wheeled, and lifted _y/n_ into the back of the waiting ambulance. Once the more built man was inside and locking the gurney in place, as well as placing one restraining strap around _y/n_’s waist. Hotch sat on the edge of the small seat. The EMT radiated the other man and said. “We can get moving, Stan.” There was a static and Stan replied, “Roger that. Headed to Rockingman, John.” With that, the large vehicle started moving down the road. John started by pulling out the pressure cuff and placing it around _y/n_’s arm. The man checked in, making sure his patient was still with them, even if not fully present. John asked, “How are you feeling? What’s your pain level on a scale from one to five.” John held up his hands, indicating one and five. Aaron focused in on her, as she said, “I don’t feel anything really. I’m just cold. So cold.” John nodded and moved to the front of the space. The man pulled out an emergency blanket and spread it over _y/n_’s form before he started pumping the pressure cuff to see what her blood pressure was. When the man had taken the reading, he jotted down the number, the EMT looked to Aaron, who was clearly upset, and said, “She’s most likely in shock. Both from the cold and what she’s been through in the last hour. Right now it looks like a mild concussion, some; burns to the legs, lacerations from the glass, and bruising to the body. Given the state of her car and how charred it was, I think we can find _y/n_ very lucky to have so fortunate an outcome. She very well might have died in her car as it caught fire.” Again all Aaron could do was nod along because there was nothing else for him to do but wait to hear more, from the hospital, Garcia, or _y/n_ herself. Hotch knew that he was going to have to think long and hard about what this whole incident meant to him. How he had reacted on pure instinct. How he couldn’t stop himself from seeming composed as he learned that _y/n_ had been hurt. How he had pictured her dead, lifeless body in front of him. How that was the worst thing he could possibly imagine at the moment. But for now, he would wait. Try to be present to _y/n_’s needs. There would be time to think later. Quickly the ambulance rushed to the hospital and when it arrived, Hotch jumped out and made way for the EMTs to lift _y/n_ down and out of the truck. As Hotch watched the men wheel her away to a space he didn’t have access to, John said, “You can go to the front of the hospital and check-in. A nurse will be with you when there’s news on _y/n_’s condition.” 

Once Aaron had checked in at the front desk, he paced around the waiting room. Hotch pulled out his phone for the first time in an hour and found thirsty missed calls from Gacia, and three texts from Derek, Rossi, and Emily asking where _y/n_ had been taken. Hotch told Morgan the name of the hospital and what John’s preliminary assessment of _y/n_ had been in the ambulance. He was sure Derek would spread the word to everyone else. Once he ended the call with Morgan, who assured him he, Emily, and Rossi were headed over once they had finished speaking with the police. Next, to keep himself busy, Hotch called Garica. Penelope picked up on the first ring, and even though she said, “Office of Supreme Intelligence, to whom am I speaking?” Aaron could hear the strain in her voice. Aaron replied, “It’s Hotch. Got a read on that license plate yet?” There was a squeaky sound as Penelope moved in her swivel chair. Her tone was now determined as she stated, “I do. Plate number 7PN-G542 belongs to Mr. Paul Wilson of South Carolina. The man is squeaky clean. It appears he’s done nothing wrong in his life. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the guy we’re looking for.” Hotch asked, “Why’s that?” Penelope was typing away wildly, as she replied, “Well Mr. Wilson is Cuban American and the man Emily described was white. Also, there’s a report out for that truck's plate reporting it being stolen two days ago from a lot in South Carolina. So…” Hotch breathed a sigh and said, “Alright. Well, the report’s out there, at least there’s that.” There was a moment of silence before Garcia asked, “How is _y/n_? Em said she looked pretty bad. Did the paramedics say anything else in the ride to the hospital?” Aaron was still pacing but stopped for a moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. Everything felt like it was happening so fast and yet so slow. He looked at his watch,  it had only been fifteen minutes since he had gotten here. He had no idea how long it would be until someone came to tell him more information about _y/n_. He exhaled and replied to Garcia’s question saying, “There’s not much more to add from what Morgan told you. The EMT said she was most likely in shock, but she stayed conscious the whole ride over. _y/n_ was a bit loopy though, speaking with slurred speech, and long pauses, but the EMTs seemed to think she would be alright. Of course, only time can tell.” Hotch let the last line slip and realized how strange that sounded coming from someone like him. He repeated the line in his head, ‘Only time can tell.’ How cliche he reflected. Time would tell, time was telling right now as _y/n_ was being examined, prodded, and pocked to see the extent of damage her body had taken. Hotch became aware that he hadn’t been speaking for a minute, as Garcia’s breath on the other end of the line came through clearly. Thankfully Aaron was saved from any awkwardness because Prentiss, Rossi, and Morgan all rushed into the room. Hotch said, “Hey, Garcia, most of the team is here now, so I’m going to catch up with them. You can come a join us if you like.” The technical analyst replied, “I’ll be there in a bit. I’m going to see if I can find more info on the APB for the stolen truck, and then I’ll head right over.” Hotch nodded and said, “Garcia, please don’t break any internet or hacking laws trying to find this guy.” There was a pause and he tacked on, “At least not any that you can get caught for.” Hearing this, Penelope chuckled and said, “You got it, boss man. See you in a few.” The call ended, and Aaron approached the rest of the team. 

Thankfully the members of the BAU only had to wait for about another forty minutes before a nurse came out and said, “Party for _y/l/n_?” Just as the middle-aged woman called, Garcia entered the building and all five members moved to the woman. Her nametag had Joan printed on it. Joan smiled and said, “Ms. _y/l/n_ is recovering well. She sustained a second-degree concussion, a hairline fracture to her left wrist, some bruising and lacerations to the face and chest, and second-degree burns to her legs. The whole team seemed to still at the news. Everyone looked around as if silently asking, ‘And how bad is that? What does that mean?’ Joan was helpful enough to answer their unanswered question with, “Miss _y/n_ is recovering well. She’s more fully conscious now. The primary concerns are her concussion and the burns on her feet. She’ll need some aid in getting around for a week or so, and the hospital is going to monitor her for a few more hours to make sure she’s cognitively okay for discharge. The doctor is speaking to her now, but you should all be able to go back and see her in a few minutes. She’ll need someone to stay with for a few days. Everyone nodded along. It was a short wait now that the team knew more, and that _y/n_ wasn’t in any serious danger. This didn’t stop Hotch’s mind from racing. From him wondering what would have happened if it had been worse. If _y/n_ had been seriously hurt. He tried as hard as he could, and yet he couldn’t still those thoughts. This situation reminded him that life was frail. That life, love, could be snuffed out in an instant. Life could be taken and it wouldn’t even have to be on the field, it could happen on a cold Monday morning and it wouldn’t even be his fault. There might not even be anyone to blame. The idea disturbed him deeply. His first were clenched tightly at his sides. He could feel his fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. As the nurse indicated it was okay for the team to move and see _y/n_ Hotch thought, ‘This is a problem. 

Inside _y/n_ little curtained-off room, the doctor was just finishing up speaking with her and the grey-haired man moved out of the way to make room for the large group. When everyone shuffled in, _y/n_ almost smiled. She was much more coherent than two hours ago when she had been laid out on the frozen ground, Aaron noticed. _y/n_ didn’t look or feel great. Her body ached all over and her vision was still a bit off. The lights were too bright for one thing. She had to stop herself from squinting as the team all herded in around her. She knew she already looked goofy in a hospital gown. The nurse hadn’t let her look in a mirror, and maybe that was for the best. Not that _y/n_ was a very vain person. She tried her best to be content with her body and how she looked, but it felt like crossing some unspoken personal rule to be this disheveled in front of the team. In front of Hotch. For a second, she wanted to hide her face in her hands, or ask Emily, “How do I look?” But it was all pointless, and it would be such a character shift from the normal, no-nonsense attitude she showed in the field and office. So she mustered up a face that hid some of her pain and said, “You don’t have to look so concerned, guys. I feel like garbage, but I’ll live.”

The team did look very worried, and she thought that maybe she really did look as bad as she felt. The team chuckled at her comment, and immediately she felt better. _y/n_’s gaze found Hotch’s, and she noticed the thin line of his mouth. It was set seriously. She wondered if he was mad at her? But why would he be? She’d never really seen him like this before. It was close to the time that Emily had gotten hurt in a case at Waco. But there was something more to this look, and she was too tired to try and decipher it at the moment. Instead, she flashed him the tiniest of smiles. At this, Aaron’s face seemed to settle to its normal stoic look, so _y/n_ looked to the rest of the team so she didn’t start blushing. Penelope moved toward and gave her a little kiss on the cheek and asked, “How are you feeling, baby girl?” _y/n_ normally bristled at Pen’s pet names, but she accepted it once given the circumstances. _y/n_ replied, “Well, they’ve got me on some pretty good pain meds, so all things considered it could be worse. My feet feel funky though, in a not great kind of way. Penelope squeezed _y/n_’s hand and said, “Well we’re all here to help you out with whatever you need.” Derek agreed, saying, “Exactly what Pen said, _y/n_. You need anything and we’re on it.” As Morgan finished, the nurse moved back in and asked, “Miss _y/n_ have you decided who you’re going to stay with for the next few days?” _y/n_ blushed profusely. She hadn’t had time to ask anyone on the team, and she wasn’t even sure they had been informed that she was going to get some help for the next two days. It was embarrassing really. She liked others to think of her as strong and confident. Someone they could turn to, but now the tables had been turned. She looked up at the team, and she could see in all those assembled that they would be happy to have her. Rossi may be less so, but both she and Dave knew that she wasn’t going to ask him. _y/n_ had to pull herself from looking at Aaron. Because if she did, he would readily nod, and then that would mean that they could spend the night together at her place, or his, and potentially the night after that, and _y/n_ wasn’t sure if she could take that right now with how she was feeling. She might say things and do things that betrayed her feelings for him. In fact, she knew she would do something stupid, given all the meds and endorphins rushing through her body. So she looked up at Emily, and Prentiss beamed at her. They didn’t even need to say anything to understand each other. _y/n_ looked over at the nurse and said, “I’ll stay with Emily.” Prentiss raised her hand as her name was spoken, and the nurse moved toward her to get her contact information for the hospital's systems. As Emily moved with the nurse to the information desk, Rossi stepped forward and patted _y/n_ on the shoulder and said, “Keep your head up, kid.” _y/n_ gave him a smile too and said, “I’ll try Rossi.” There was an awkward silence as _y/n_ looked over at Hotch. _y/n_ wondered if he was ever going to say anything, or just keep standing there looking pained and uncomfortable. 

Finally, Aaron cleared his throat. Garcia and Dave seemed to slide out of the room before _y/n_ could ask them to stay. She flushed again, and _y/n_ knew that Aaron could see her. _y/n_ wasn’t so silly to assume that Hotch didn’t know about her infatuation with him. It had to be clear. It was just awkward that neither of them had admitted it, even in the slightest. Maybe _y/n_ had read into Hotch’s actions around her, but she was pretty sure he cared about her as much as she liked him. The fact that he was her boss was what was a real punch in the gut. But what could she do? The feelings were there, she just had to stifle them. After a minute of silence, Aaron spoke. He used his reassuring voice, but he wasn’t sure who exactly he was giving comfort to, himself or _y/n. He said, “Would you be honest with me? How do you really feel, and what did the doctor say?” _y/n_ let out a sigh. She couldn’t lie to him even if she wanted to, so she said “My head’s all fuzzy, the lights are too bright, and my feet and legs hurt. Not that they're hot, just painful, like pins and needles all over. The doctor has them bandaged all up.” For some reason, she pulled up the blanket covering her legs to show off the medical gauze covering her feet and lower legs. It went up to her mid-calf and Aaron couldn’t help but cringe a little. It looked painful. He waited to see what _y/n_ was going to report about the doctor’s findings. He said her name, “_y/n_?” The woman in the bed came back to herself and said, “Dr. Jenings said I’d be out of the field for a few weeks, maybe three. The concussion and the fact that I can’t really walk sealed that deal pretty easily.” When _y/n_ finished, she bit the inside of her mouth. Aaron looked her over and saw the disappointment in her gaze. He knew that _y/n_ hated when she was out of the field. It had only happened once before when she got the flu very badly in December last year. She had been out for two cases and as badly she had felt, she still had Gacia fill her in on the case and called Emily or Derek once or twice a day. Aaron wanted to reprimand her, but he knew he would have done the same thing if he had been in her position. He had, however, texted her saying, “_y/n_ please take it easy.” Hotch felt the same way now, as he had then. He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. That really got _y/n_ to look at him, and he said, “This wasn’t your fault, _y/n_. There was nothing you could have done about this, and no one on the team or in the office is going to fault you for having to take a break.” _y/n_ looked a bit crestfallen but nodded anyway. Sometimes Aaron thought that _y/n_ felt like she had to right every wrong the world threw at her. Hotch knew that _y/n_ had a troubled past like every member of the BAU had a complicated past. He didn’t have all the details of her story, but he could sense that she felt pressure to show up. To be there a hundred percent of the time. Aaron knew how that felt. He knew what it meant to think that it was already too late. Hotch didn’t have a lot of time to think about it further as the nurse and Emily moved back into the space. Joan was holding a pair of crutches and for a moment Aaron thought that she must be joking. There was no way that this medical professional expected _y/n_ to get on her feet this soon after what she had been through Not after he and multiple doctors had seen the state of her feet. 

Aaron’s concern was addressed shortly as Joan said, “Miss, _y/n_. This might seem counterintuitive, but we’re going to need you to try and get out and up on your feet as soon as possible. The doctor recommends it so that there isn’t a chance of thrombosis or blood clots. There’s also a chance for tautness of the surrounding skin. It will be incredibly painful, but we need you to try and walk as soon as you can for your well-being.” _y/n_ nodded. Aaron could see that she looked concerned at the request, but was trying to hide it from everyone. Maybe even herself. Joan gave _y/n_ an encouraging smile. The nurse said, “Good, well here are some clothes to change into for your release. Would you like me to stay behind and help you with that?” _y/n_ nodded and Joan asked Aaron and Emily to give them some privacy. As the duo moved outside, the rest of the team was waiting for them. Now Spencer and JJ were there as well and everyone asked Emily and Aaron what had happened. The pair did their best to explain what the nurse had said. It took a bit longer than expected. However, Hotch assumed a lot went into getting someone ready for that much pain. Aaron didn’t even want to think about it. He didn’t have to as a half-strangled sound could be heard coming from _y/n_’s room. The sound took the breath out of Hotch and he could see the rest of the team cringe. Garcia was so upset that she hugged Derek. Morgan took the analyst in his arms and covered her ears for her. There was a shuffling from inside the room and more pained noises. Hotch was biting down so hard on his tongue that he was sure it would bleed soon. The door was opened by Joan, and Aaron’s eyes snapped to _y/n_. She wasn’t even trying to look at any of them. Her brows were pulled so tight in pain that they were nearly touching. _y/n_ was leaning heavily on the crutches, gripping the handles with white knuckles. _y/n_ was taking labored breaths, as she moved unsteadily on her feet. She was looking at the ground only. Just at where her feet were meeting the floor. She had on some special shoes, thick black sandal-type things that accommodated the thick bandaging on her feet. The rest of the team moved to give her space and not have to see how pained she looked. But Aaron moved to her other side. It may hurt him to see _y/n_ this way, but it was clearly nothing to how she was feeling. And if his presence could provide even a modicum of comfort, then he would be there for her. Hotch stood on her right as she moved toward the door toward the check-out desk and the charge nurse. Aaron moved his hand behind _y/n_’s lower back. He didn’t make contact with her skin; his hand simply hovered over _y/n_’s shirt. It was a metaphorical helping hand. For one second, _y/n_ moved her eyes to his, and he could see that all the pain was still there, but there was a small bit of gratitude as well. _y/n_ wouldn’t be able to find the words to thank him. She wasn’t sure if she could for two reasons. First was the fact that even breathing seemed like an impossibility at the moment. The second reason was that the team was still around, even if they weren’t looking at her and Aaron. But _y/n_ had a feeling that if she opened her mouth more than a thank you would tumble out. 

It took what felt like a very long time, though it was just around four minutes, for _y/n_, Joan, and Aaron to make it to the door. The nurse moved and held open the swinging doors for _y/n_ to get out of. Hotch’s train of thought was similar to _y/n_’s as she moved out into the lobby. He wondered if the team was scrutinizing his actions with _y/n_. If they were, and someone brought it up later, he would address it. For now, his attention was solely on _y/n_. Hotch was grateful that the staff at least let _y/n_ sit while she signed a few forms for her discharge. Emily also took on some papers and Joan also gave Prentiss a few file folders for the needed care steps for _y/n_’s recovery. Rossi moved forward and took the papers from Emily. When the paperwork was finished, Aaron looked over to Em and said, “I’ll drive you both to your apartment.” Prentiss nodded and Derek moved forward to get Prentiss's keys to drive her car to the front of the hospital. Aaron bent down and asked, can I give you a hand up?” _y/n_ looked up at him for the first real-time that day. She looked so tired but nodded her head yes. _y/n_ got her crutches ready to support her weight once she was on her feet again. Aaron bent down, placed his hands under her arms, and lifted her up. Once _y/n_’s weight was on her feet again, she made another pained sound, but this one was much smaller, just a little “mhm,” with an exhalation of breath. Hotch, _y/n_ and Em all moved to the sliding doors and out into the cold air. Hotch watched with a keen eye for any slick or ice spots on the sidewalk. Thankfully it was just a few feet from the hospital entrance to the waiting car. Derek got out of the driver's seat and along with Aaron,  helped _y/n_ into the back seat. Hotch noticed the goosebumps from the chilly air on _y/n_’s skin, and he removed his jacket and handed it over as she gave him the crutches that didn’t quite fit in the backseat. Aaron watched with a tiny bit of warmth in him as _y/n_ slipped his oversized jacket over her frame. Em and Derek were talking quietly near the front of the car. Aaron moved to the trunk and placed the crutches there then moved to the front. Morgan stepped forward and asked, “Are you going back to the office after this?” Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. I’ll need to file some paperwork for _y/n_ and reach out to medical and see what timeline they have for time off in the field. However, if you or anyone else on the team needs the rest of the day off, I’d understand. Can you tell anyone else on the BAU team that?” Derek nodded and said, “Will do Hotch.” Morgan gave his arm a sturdy pat and as the built man turned to move back inside, Aaron called out saying, “Please drive safely, Morgan.” Derek looked back and caught his eye before he nodded and then moved back into the hospital. 

Emily moved to sit in the back of the car with _y/n_. Em and took the injured woman’s hand in hers. Prentiss rubbed circles over _y/n_ thumb softly, providing a soft touch to distract and remind _y/n_ that she wasn’t alone. Aaron pulled out out of the crowded parking lot. He looked into the rearview mirror and saw _y/n_ leaning against Emily’s shoulder. Hotch asked, “_y/n_ how’s the temperature? Do you need it warmer?” _y/n_ just barely opened her eyes and said, “I’m good, thanks.” Aaron nodded, feeling bad that there wasn’t more he could do for her. It took about a half hour with traffic to get to Em’s townhouse in the center of the city. Emily got all of the files, and Aaron helped _y/n_ into the elevator, down the hallway, and finally to a seat on Emily’s couch. Emily turned on a single lamp and grabbed a glass of water for _y/n_. Prentiss took a bit longer in the kitchen than she needed, giving Hotch and her guest a few minutes of privacy. Hotch knelt and placed a hand on her left shoulder. He wanted to do so much more, to rub his hands over her arms, or stroke the profile of her face with the pad of this thumb. He wanted to dote on her, pick her up, put her to bed, and make sure there wasn’t any pain. But _y/n_ probably wouldn’t like that. She acted so strong on and off the field that he wasn’t sure that this kind of corporal affection would be appreciated. He also wasn’t sure his romantic feelings would be reciprocated either. It was one of the many reasons that he hadn’t said anything about his feelings for her. He couldn’t deny that he sensed a connection between them. Something physical and beyond. But perhaps he was reading into things. His brain going into hyperdrive in terms of profiler mood. His brain seemed to short-circuit sometimes when he was near _y/n_, but he was composed enough to hide it. Or at least he hoped he hid it. Aaron realized that he wasn’t saying anything, that his hand was lingering on _y/n_’s body. He looked at her, and she was staring at him. Her gaze seemed a bit distant, but _y/n_ was trying to focus on him. She opened her mouth and tried to say, “Hotch. I’m…” but Aaron stopped her saying, “Please don’t say you're fine, _y/n_. You were, are, in real pain, and you also went through something very traumatic. You don’t have to be brave right now. It’s okay.” That was all Aaorn could bring himself to say without it getting out of hand. A noise from the doorway had Hotch standing in an instant. Emily entered the room and placed the glass of water on the table next to the couch. Hotch softly said to _y/n_ alone, “Rest if you can, alright?” _y/n_ nodded and moved to take off his black blazer. Without really thinking about anything, or that Emily was standing right by him, he said, “You keep it for now. You can bring it back when you’re back in the office.” Aaron moved and unclipped his FBI badge that was still attached to his exterior breast pocket. He slipped the plastic into the back pocket of his trousers and moved away from _y/n_ reluctantly. He turned and Prenitss had a look on her face that spoke volumes without having to say a word. Aaron let out a little sigh, and he motioned for Emily to follow him a bit farther away from _y/n_. Hotch wasn’t ready to address whatever Em was thinking. Instead, he said in a steady voice, “Feel free to call me or text if you need me, or _y/n_ needs something. Anything. I’m just a few minutes away.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I’ll let you know. She’s going to be okay, Aaron. _y/n_’s a strong person.” Hotch nodded, not willing to address the look Emily was sending him. He moved out the door before anything else could happen. 

The next morning, _y/n_ who had just changed her bandages and taken her antimicrobial and pain meds got a call from Aaron. _y/n_ picked up and tried not to give a groan of pain, as she raised her legs onto the bed. She answered, “Hey Hotch? What’s up?” There was a brief pause before Aaron said, “Just checking in. I have some news, but I want to hear how you’re feeling first. How was last night?” _y/n_ could hear that Hotch was using his office voice again. The tenderness that he had spoken to her with yesterday was still there, just veiled behind professionalism like normal. _y/n_ could picture him sitting behind his desk. His knees brushed the inside of his desk as it was just a bit too small for his lanky limbs. He wasn’t on his office phone, given he had called her on her cell. The image of him sitting, bathed in the soft lighting of his lamps was one she played out in her head often. He wasn’t exactly stationary in these thoughts, he was doing things other than paperwork or calling her to see if she wasn’t so battered and bruised. _y/n_ had to push those thoughts back. Now was not the time or the place. Even if her wildest fantasies were fulfilled, given the pain in her body was still feeling, none of those blissful ideas would be able to be completed. _y/n_ stifled a sigh, and instead replied, “It was okay given the circumstances. Things are still pretty painful and I understand what the doctor was saying about the long-lasting effects of a concussion now. My head and brain still haven’t seemed to reset to normal yet, but other than that, I feel as good as I can. Now tell me about your news. What did medical say?” _y/n_ was so familiar with the BAU procedures to not know why Hotch had been calling her. The medical board had gotten back to him to let Aaron know how long she medically needed to be out of the field. Hotch let out a big sigh and replied, “Well the med board looked over your files from yesterday and they’ve grounded you for three weeks, minimum. Given the concussion and the physical nature of being on the field, it’s not wise to have you back with us until then. When you get back after the three weeks, you’ll have to see medical to get cleared back to the field. _y/n_ couldn’t stop the long sigh that they let out while hearing the news. _y/n_ understood the need for her physical well-being, but being off gave her time to think. And if she thought too hard, her mind went to bad places, from the past and present. Working for the BAU mercifully kept her mind on other places and horrible scenarios. But now she was grounded and it sucked. There was a small silence before _y/n_ replied, “I understand.” She could hear Hotch click his pen, a habit of his that she noticed when Aaron was in the office. He would click his pen either on his wooden desk or with his thumb. Aaron took in a breath and said, “Try and rest while you can, _y/n_. You can call me or text me if you have any questions about your return to the field. And if you think you need more time, just let me know.” Hotch said the last sentence as a formality. He knew _y/n_ would be going stir-crazy after three days of not being at work. There was another silence, and _y/n_ asked, “Can I come into the office at least? Like after a week?” Aaron sat back and swallowed his emotion of concern for _y/n_. What more could he say than, “I can’t stop you from coming in the building, _y/n_.” They wrapped up the call shortly after that. _y/n_ closed her eyes for a minute and just tried to relax. In a few minutes, she was going to do her exercises to help with her recovery. It would be a long three weeks. 

The team got called away on a case the next day. Thankfully _y/b/f_ was able to help _y/n_ who moved back to her apartment after Emily left for the new case in Vegas. Even though the lights twinkled and shone on the Vegas strip, and there was a highly unique case afoot - an unsub apparently leading people to poison themselves due to bankruptcy and gambling addictions - Hotch found it hard to keep his mind on the case. At the hotel the second night, he tried to find a lead, any lead that would help the team pinpoint more about this unsub. His brain drifted to _y/n_. He wondered what she was doing right now. It was 11:45 p.m. Any sensible person would be asleep given the chance. Maybe she was in her bed. Aaron had to stop himself there. He didn’t have sexual thoughts about _y/n_, at least not yet, but he was so tired that if he kept thinking about her, his brain might idle down that path. This, he would not allow. It was bad enough that he felt that he couldn’t even talk to _y/n_ he would feel infinitely worse if he started getting off to her too. He reflected on these feelings for a moment, how they had come to metastasize in him. From early on during their employment, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was someone who couldn’t be easily pushed or waived. When _y/n_ had committed to something, they stuck to it. Not that she was one to hang onto an idea or train of thought during a case like Rossi's. _y/n_ tried to be open-minded in that regard. But she had committed fully to the team since the day she signed on. That was the standard, the expectation for him, but _y/n_ sometimes felt over-committed. She would stay up all hours of the night trying to figure a piece of a case out. She relied heavily on his, Rossi's, and Emily’s experience in the field to catch up on facts or training that she might have missed in her previous placement. Aaron sensed that she was running from something given how hard she worked both in the field and the office. He hadn’t asked what that was, but Aaron could sense it. He had hoped that maybe one day she would tell him. But then their feelings toward each other had become more complex. It had happened during a brutal and long case in October last year. It involved kids which was always the worst to deal with for him. The team had been working non-stop until Aaron had essentially ordered them to get some rest. Everyone had moved into their rooms to pretend to sleep and an hour later Aaron was moving down the hall to run a theory by Rossi. He had passed _y/n_’s room and heard crying inside. It wasn’t loud, but he could hear it distinctly. The sobs coming from inside ripped at his heart like a knife. He had knocked and the crying stopped momentarily. _y/n_ had moved to the door, unlocked both bolts, and removed the security chain. Aaron could hear the metal rubbing against each other. When _y/n_ had opened the door, she moved back to let him in. She turned her face as if to hide the pain there from him. Aaron gently took hold of her hand, and she finally looked at him. Softly he asked, “What’s the matter _y/n_? Is it the case? Has something personal happened?” _y/n_ bit the side of her mouth trying to stop the tears from coming again. But she couldn’t, and as she started shaking and crying again Aaron moved forward and took her in his strong arms. She leaned into him; really leaned into him for the first time. He had never seen her so vulnerable before and as he asked, “Please tell me what’s bothering you,” and her enigmatic reply of, “I just can’t Aaron. I can’t;” had changed everything. Because at that moment Hotch would have done just about anything to make _y/n_ feel better. To free her of whatever pain she was feeling. Whatever emotions were plaguing her? And when _y/n_ had stopped crying, and Aaron pulled away, she could see it in his eyes, and she wanted that from him just as badly as he wanted to give it; thus their fates were sealed, because this relationship, or hope at one couldn’t happen, and yet Hotch yearned for it. Thought about it nearly every time he looked at her. 

Thankfully Aaron’s brain did manage to think of something besides _y/n_, and that was Rossi. Whenever he got stuck, he’d go and see Dave to see what the pro had noticed that he might have missed. It was helpful having someone older than him on the team for Hotch to turn to. Aaron pushed himself out of the bed and slipped on his tennis shoes. He padded down the hall and as he moved forward, Emily stepped out of her room in front of him. Prentiss was on the phone and said, “Yeah the team’s okay. I’d love to be spending a week in Vegas just for fun. How’d you feel coming here during Spring Break some year? You, me, Morgan, and Penelope…” There was a pause and Em continued, “You got it, Baby. Sin to Win.” Hearing this, Aaron actually laughed. He tried to disguise it as a cough but didn’t succeed. Prentiss turned on her heel and relaxed when she realized it was just him. She gave him a bit of a joking disapproving glare at him eavesdropping. Hotch could never not laugh when Emily said, “Sin to Win.” He was still unaware of the connotation or story associated with the phrase, but it never failed to make him laugh. It just sounded so strange coming from someone as polite and proper as Em. He pointed at the phone pressed to her ear and whispered, “Who is it?” He already knew, but Emily indulged him and mouthed, “_y/n_.” Aaron nodded and mouthed back, “Tell her to go to bed.” Prentiss rolled her eyes and said into the phone, “Someone has someone has something to say to you, _y/n_.” Without further ado, Em removed the phone from her ear and pressed it into Hotch’s hands. Aaron flushed red and looked at Emily like a deer in headlights, but Em crossed her arms and just looked at him as if saying, “Do it yourself.” After what felt like a bit too long, Aaron pulled the cell to his ear and said in an embarrassed tone, “Hey, _y/n_. Ummm… maybe you should be getting some rest?” The was a beat of silence, and  _y/n_ let out a soft breath at hearing Aaron suddenly on the other end of the line. She replied, “I am resting, I’m in bed right now watching _y/f/s_. I feel so rested that I’m even planning my next vacation. Emily is promising me ‘Sin to Win’ in Vegas in the Spring.” Hotch had to stifle some sort of sound from coming out of his mouth at the rather wild and lurid image his brain came up with in association with _y/n_ and Em’s new favorite phrase. He coughed once and said, “Well good, just don’t get ahead of yourself. Rest well _y/n_.” With that, he quickly handed the phone back to Emily and moved down the hallway, well aware that his agent could see how flustered he was. As Aaron made his retreat, Em pulled the phone back to her ear and said, “It’s me again.” As Prentiss slipped into her room, she smiled. It was fortuitous that she had stepped out of her room when she had. Prentiss, JJ, Rossi, and even Morgan had started waiting for bated breath for something to happen between _y/n_ and Aaron. At this point, Emily was willing to push things in that direction if she had to, and tonight had been a clear, successful first step. 

The case in Nevada wrapped up. Hotch was always glad to be headed home, but in this case, he was especially glad. It meant that he could check up on _y/n_ The team decompressed, and a few days into the next week, _y/n_ stopped by the office. _y/n_ sat next to Spencer and Derek talking about the latest case and what she had missed. Hotch clocked her grabbing at one of Morgan’s files, but he swooped in and took it from her hands, turned it over, and set it firmly back on Derek’s desk. _y/n_ pouted at him slightly, and both Spencer and Derek looked away. Hotch and _y/n_ were acting differently than they had before. Aaron had realized after the accident that life was too short and fickle for him to be playing around. The thought of _y/n_ being in a worse situation than being dragged from her car just in time was something that was going to stay with him for a long time. So even if he couldn’t say anything, he was going to at least act a bit more involved. Hotch viewed this like a soft launch, though to the rest of the team, it looked like ten massive steps forward. No one on the team was going to say anything about it though. They were just grateful that something was happening between them. Hotch also started acting like this to see if _y/n_ wanted this like he assumed she did. If she wasn’t interested in his advances then he would stop instantly. This was only his first day seeing her, and he was trying to still act natural, but he couldn’t deny the rush he felt when she looked at him like this. She feigned disappointment at him taking the file she had, but a genuine happiness to see him again. Aaron’s thoughts were shattered as Penelope's voice cut through his mental fog. Hotch turned to look at the small landing that connected the bullpen to the upper level of the floor the BAU was housed on. Garcia said, “The fam is home, _y/n_ is here, and everything is right with the world.” No one on the team acknowledged that their very jobs meant that the world was a horrible, awful, depraved place. But it was the thought that counted. Aaron moved aside to make room for Garcia in the little huddle of agents. He moved to the edge of the staircase, hesitant to move away. He listened in on the conversation the group was having. He pretended to look over one of his own files, even though he wouldn’t normally do that down in the bullpen. He at least pretended like he was missing a paper as he rifled through his full folder. He listened in on Garcia and asked, “So what’s with you and your friend getting into a fight? What happened there?” _y/n_ gave a small sigh at the question, but replied, “It’s this damn concussion. Some things, like the lights or certain sounds, just seem to set me off. I apologized, profusely, and we made up, but it’s just annoying that such little things are bothering me. It makes me feel like I’m not in control. I hate that.” Aaron actually started moving up the stairs as Spencer started going on a tangent about concussion symptoms and car crashes, while Pen leaned down and kissed the top of _y/n_’s head. 

A full week elapsed and _y/n_ met with medical and took a physical to clear her for the field. _y/n_ was still walking awkwardly, but they were out of the heavy bandaging and her feet and legs had healed well given the care she took with her body and recovery. Aaron was forwarded the medical report from Dr. Sujedia recommending _y/n_ take off a few more days. Aaron had called _y/n_ to his office to discuss the results. _y/n_ sat down and did her best to look tough and undisturbed. Unbothered by the results of the test. Aaron looked over the papers and said, “As you know, Dr. Ramirez recommends another three to four days of rest. I’m prepping a new case with JJ this afternoon and I want your opinions on your condition. How are you feeling?” _y/n_ was honest with Hotch, knowing that was the best guarantee that they would be allowed onto the next case. She said, “My head’s still bothering me, and I don’t think my legs are down for a chase on foot right now, but I can just sit in the background. I can listen to and organize files in the precinct. I can work with JJ and do a geographical profile, or…” Aaron cut her off with a small raise of his hand from his desk. He knew she was trying to prove that she could still be an asset to the team, even if she couldn’t do all of the physically demanding aspects of the job. Hotch thought it over for a moment. He knew that _y/n_ would be upset if he said no. He saw the determined look on her face. Reluctantly he gave a nod. At least if she was with the team he could look over her. Not that she wanted that exactly, but it would make him feel better. He dismissed _y/n_ shortly after he reminded her that she was to take it easy on the case, doing work that would let her rest her body. He watched as she gave him a big smile and walked out the door. She was so happy that she didn’t even try to hide the little limp she had while walking on her tender feet. Once _y/n_ was back in the bullpen talking animatedly to Emily, he moved over to Garcia’s office. He knocked on the door once before he entered the dim space. Penelope looked up from her three monitors and asked, “What’s up Hotch?” Aaron leaned against the door and replied, “How many times did she visit you while we were away?” The ‘she’ in question didn’t need to be named before Pen said, “Just twice, but I didn’t ask her to Hotchy. I swear she came of her own accord.” Hotch’s set into a firm line for a second before he said, “Alright, well don’t encourage it, at least until she’s a bit better.” He added very softly, “She looks worn out.” Pen smiled gently and could see the concern on her supervisor's face. Garcia replied, “Pinky promise. We’ll take care of her.” Aaron nodded ever so slightly and then moved out of the technical den and toward JJ’s office. 

The next case was in North Carolina at the private post-secondary school, High Point University. So far four male students that were all athletes had been found strangled on the school grounds. A panic had set in from the students, faculty, and most annoyingly the donors to the small campus. There was an obvious tie with all of the students being men and athletes. Though different sports had been targeted, not just a single athletic pursuit. There was also the option that scholarships could take a part in the murders as two of the three men killed had been on athletic scholarships that semester. As the team bounced ideas off of each other on the plane ride, _y/n_ said, “There are some wealthy alumni from Highpoint. Maybe this is some wild Operation Varsity Blues type of situation?” As always Spencer took off with this idea and how nepotism could be as real a motivator for murder as rage or shame might be. Aaron looked over his team from his spot near the front of the jet. It felt good to have _y/n_  back, even if in the pit of his stomach he felt concerned about throwing her back in the field like he was. Granted she had asked, but even so, he was still concerned. When they got to the university, JJ immediately started working with the campus media team to get a consistent message out. Hotch moved to speak with the University Police Department and Rossi went to the local station. Hotch took Morgan and _y/n_ with him, while Rossi had Spencer and Emily moved to the downtown police station. Things continued to move quickly as they always did on a case. The team made a basic profile. By the end of the day, due to the unsub clearly being young, or at least mentally young, they had made plenty of mistakes that were easy to pick up on. Unfortunately, the campus's UPD wasn’t used to murder’s happening on their territory and was overwhelmed by the student and parent response. The day unfolded with the team creating a profile and trying to stay as low-key as possible. Because the BAU was the BAU it was clear to the students that something was happening. This meant that the unsub was also likely aware of the presence of the FBI, pulled back, and might stop their killing spree. This would be a good thing except that once the BAU was gone, they could simply start killing again. Therefore, the team started canvassing the campus. Sitting in on big lecture classes and speaking to faculty. The team assumed that the unsub was a student first. Secondly, they assumed that the student was not an athlete, and potentially a student who had to retake a year or even more of coursework at the university. 

_y/n_ was trying to listen to her body and abide by Hotch’s request that she take it easy. She had sat in a large mirco-economics class with Spencer and watched as the genius took so many notes. Covering over twenty pages as Dr. Reid wrote furiously about economic theory, where the Professor was wrong, where the textbook, which Spencer quickly read before class was incorrect. All _y/n_ could think of was that she was glad she was not that professor, or that she would ever have a class with Spencer as the instructor -- she knew she would fail the course on entry. After that, _y/n_ moved to the UPD’s department and went through piles and piles of non-sexual assault claims. If the unsub was a supersenior, there could be over six years' worth of reports to look through. She spent most of the day looking over these reports. The next day, _y/n_ spent a good deal of the morning with JJ, fielding concerns from students, bursars, and faculty members who asked questions. The pair also held some interviews with a few students that had caught the team's interest the day before. Although the interviews didn’t reveal much, but they gave _y/n_ an idea about something she read yesterday in a report. _y/n_ didn’t mind doing this kind of clerical work, but it was harming her current condition. Being under such harsh fluorescent lights was making her head swim. It was also putting their temper on edge. The last interview where a young sophomore had scratched his head incessantly and said, “Um,” “Like,” or “And” every other word had put _y/n_ pushed something in her like an itch that desperately needed to be scratched, but there was no actual, physical place to relieve the annoyance. _y/n_ was desperately looking forward to being cooped up alone in the files room looking for that one folder that she was thinking of. It would be killing two birds with one stone. It could be potentially helpful to the team, and it would give her a moment to decompress and let out her annoyed feelings. Just as _y/n_ was getting ready to leave, Hotch showed up and asked JJ and her about their progress. Mercifully JJ answered for both of them. When Aaron turned his gaze to her, she said, “JJ’s right. We haven’t found much with what we’ve looked at this morning. However, there’s a file I remember standing out at the UPD. I was going to head there now actually.” Aaron nodded. He turned to JJ quickly and said, “Keep up the good work here. Call me if you find anything useful. The smallest scrap of information could be helpful now.” JJ smiled at Hotch and said, “You got it, Hotch.” Next, Aaron turned to _y/n_ and said, “I’ll walk you there.” _y/n_ nodded and followed after him as he opened the door for her. Aaron could tell that something was happening with _y/n_. He couldn’t pin it down yet, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. The day was unimaginably hot given that it was November. The campus was also sprawling and had lots of external stairs. The UPD and the file storage center were almost a mile apart. As the pair moved down yet another set of stairs. _y/n_ felt that she was so hot. The sun felt like it was beating down on her relentlessly. As _y/n_ took another step down, she felt her ankle buckle and her mind went blank as her body swooned toward the concrete steps. 

Aaron could feel that something was wrong as he and _y/n_ moved down yet another set of steps. Halfway down those steps, he looked over to _y/n_. Her breathing was shallowed and despite being in the direct sun, her skin looked shallow. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and _y/n_’s body crumpled dangerously quickly toward the hard, sharp steps. For a millisecond, Aaron felt like he was back at the scene of the wreck, but this time he could do something in the moment. He wasn’t powerless. So, Aaron moved his left leg down two steps and positioned his body and arms to catch _y/n_’s limp body. When he caught her, she let out an exhalation at the harsh contact of her body colliding with his. Aaron bent down slightly and used his other arm to pull up under _y/n_’s legs. He gave a soft grunt as he took _y/n_’s full weight in his arms. Hotch moved carefully down the steps and glared at any students who threw him an intrigued or concerned look as he held _y/n_ close to his chest. Aaron moved to a flat portion of the path that was covered. He spotted a bench that was shaded by a large tree. Hotch quickly moved in that direction, and _y/n_ started to stir in his arms; her eyes slowly opening. Aaron got to the bench and sat down with _y/n_ nestled in his lap. He brushed a hand over her cheek, as she fully came to her faculties. _y/n_ gave a small groan and asked, “Wha’ happened?” _y/n_’s slurred speech worried him. Hotch replied, “You fainted, _y/n_. You really could have been hurt if you were walking alone.” Aaron couldn’t veil his concern. Not now. He added, “I’m worried about you, _y/n_.” _y/n_ looked up at him, not fully aware that Hotch’s hand was in her hair, and his heart rate was beating out of his chest with concern. _y/n_ tried to get her vision to clear. The pain in her head from the lights and the heat was still causing her pain and she replied in a tone that she wanted to sound exasperated, but it really just came out like a snap, saying, “Why do you even care?” And once the words were out and the tone became apparent, her vision cleared and she saw Aaron fully, and the look of love and care for her overwhelmed her. In a breathy voice, one that was starting to be overcome with tears, she said, “I didn’t mean that, Aa…” Her voice was strangled by tears and Hotch pulled her close to his body. His head rested on top of hers as he said, “I know. I know you didn’t mean it that way. I know.” And as Aaron held her, she did know he knew. That he knew it all. At that moment she wouldn’t fight him. All she wanted was for him to hold her and help with the pain. He had at the hospital. Even being near him made her feel better. They stayed there for a few moments and Aaron said, “I’m taking you back to the hotel. You need rest and don’t even try to fight me on this. You mean too much to me to be having on the field right now.” _y/n_ nodded and shifted to stand, but Aaron stopped her with a large hand, saying, “You’re not walking right now in this heat. I’ll carry you to the SUV.” _y/n_’s mouth fell open slightly and said, “Aaron I can do it.” Hotch nodded his head no, replying, “I’m not having you move down all those stairs again. The car is only two lots, over. Now if I hold you like I did before, will it hurt your legs at all?” _y/n_ swallowed and softly said, “No. It won’t hurt me.” Aaron nodded and readjusted his hands again. Carefully picked her up again. He moved quickly to the SUV. He set _y/n_ down and got pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors. Once _y/n_ was seated and buckled, he turned on the AC. The ride to the motel was short with Aaron just shooting Rossi and Em a text saying that he’d be back in a half hour or so. 

_y/n_ was grateful that Aaron let her walk to her own room. As much as she liked Hotch’s touch and gentle care he had when he had carried her, she had her dignity and desire to still be able to care for herself. In her room, Aaron looked over at her bed. _y/n_ didn’t even care as she pulled off her blazer, slipped off her shoes, and laid back on the bed. While she was doing this, Aaron turned off the overhead light and turned on a lamp instead. He puttered with the air conditioning so that it wasn’t freezing, but not too hot either. He then moved to the window messing with the curtains even though the blackout curtain and decorative curtain were clearly closed. Hotch did this because he didn’t know what to say. Finally, _y/n_ called him. It was a voice she had rarely used with him. It was vulnerable, needy, scared even? When Aaron looked at _y/n_ he saw the desire in her face, a look that must have been the one he had on his own face as he covered her body on the freezing road, and as he carried her to the bench just a few minutes earlier. Aaron was drawn to her and sat on the edge of the bed as _y/n_ said, “Aaron. I like you. I have for a long time. I’m sorry if this fucks everything up between us, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to say anything. But I have to say something.” At this, she stopped and looked at him concerned that she might have ruined everything. Aaron leaned forward, ran his left hand through her hair again, and rested his forehead against hers. He felt such a reprieve at her words. He closed his eyes and said, “I like you too, _y/n_. I’ve been a coward about my feelings and your still here being brave after everything that’s happened to you this month. For a few minutes, I thought I’d lost you and I’m never going to let that happen again. At least where I can. I want to be with you.” _y/n_ gave a little hum and placed a hand on his chest. Knowing that she wasn’t delusional for desiring Aaron suddenly made all her pain seem to fade into the background. His breath on her face was comforting, and she opened her eyes a bit. She shifted up a bit and gave his mouth a peck. At this, Hotch opened his eyes. He gave her a soft smile and moved his mouth more needily over hers. As they shared that kiss, they were both grateful for the other. For the comfort that was to be had now and in the future. There was a lot to be said later, but for now, their love and lips said everything that needed to be at the moment. _y/n_ closed her eyes and let the moment linger. _y/n_’s hand found its way to his chest, placed it over his heart, and felt its steady beat under her palm. _y/n_ closed her eyes and as they continued to kiss, she was certain that she would know anywhere. No matter how they were challenged and pulled, she would always know and love him, and this was just the start of that journey.

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